The Arranged Suitor Was the Kidnapper

“Lady Rohan!!”

“Laria!!”

“Our baby fox!!”

Laria’s eyes widened at the chorus of voices calling out to her in succession.

Not only the Rohan family members but Ishel and Zenox as well had gathered in one place.

Armed knights and palace sorcerers could even be seen in the rear.

Before she could inquire as to why they had all assembled, Theodore rushed forward, enveloping Laria in a tight embrace as he broke down in sobs.

Taken aback, Laria turned a bewildered gaze toward Semela.

Even Semela’s eyes were reddened with tears.

Grinding his teeth tightly, Herdin exhaled a ragged breath.

“Are you injured anywhere?”

“No, I’m not…”

“Consider it carefully. You may have sustained a head injury or lost your memories.”

She had merely spent time in what appeared to be an ordinary study before emerging once more. Yet their reactions suggested she had returned from the throes of battle itself.

“My memories are intact. There was no danger – I simply entered and exited shortly after.”

At Laria’s reassurance, Ishel, his features haggard with weariness, spoke up.

“You were gone for an entire week before emerging.”

For an instant, her mind went blank.

A full week had elapsed?

She had assumed perhaps a couple of hours at most.

Reflexively, Laria turned her gaze toward Zenox.

“…Laria.”

Zenox uttered her name in a faint whisper, as if his voice might extinguish at any moment. His eyes held a dazed, dreamlike quality, as though he might collapse without warning. His pallor was so alarmingly severe that it wouldn’t have been surprising had he fainted on the spot.

Though she had witnessed his unwell states before, never had he appeared so utterly distraught.

Studying Zenox, Laria’s gaze fell upon the sword gripped in his hand, eliciting a startled reaction.

To brandish a weapon within the Imperial Palace grounds…

Taken aback, Laria could only part her lips wordlessly.

Sensing her scrutiny, Zenox sheathed his blade.

Unlike when Laria had previously regained consciousness after fainting, he now seemed outwardly composed.

Yet his forced semblance of being unperturbed only amplified her unease.

It resembled the eerie stillness preceding a tempest’s onslaught.

“Truly, nothing untoward occurred.”

Perceiving Zenox’s alarming state, Laria turned toward her family members.

“Might I recount the details once we return home? Can we depart together shortly?”

“…We’ll wait for you.”

At Laria’s earnest expression, Semela acquiesced, turning to leave.

Theodore, his legs seeming to buckle, wavered unsteadily.

“There is a recovery room available. We head there.”

Herdin guided the Count and Countess away.

Laria silently watched their retreating forms.

It seemed she would need to spend time with her family upon their return home.

“Shall we step aside to converse for a moment?”

Before Laria could engage Zenox in private discussion, Ishel intervened.

His urgent demeanor suggested he had pressing matters to address.

Ultimately, Laria could only nod in agreement as the three made their way to a nearby receiving room.

Throughout their journey, Zenox remained eerily silent, his movements resembling those of a lifeless doll. Furtively studying him with mounting concern, Laria had scarcely taken her seat when Ishel posed his query.

“What did you witness?”

Had that been the impetus for his insistence?

Then again, having opened a door that had remained sealed for centuries, his eagerness was understandable.

“There was what appeared to be a study from several centuries ago.”

“A study, you say…”

“Though my subjective experience felt like an hour or two at most, the apparent discrepancy in the flow of time seems to be the reason for my delayed emergence.”

Offering a detailed explanation in an attempt to reassure Zenox.

Listening intently, Ishel nodded in acknowledgment.

“For a long time, I have harbored an interest in fostering unity between the Fox and Wolf clans.”

Had he truly held such interest?

When Laria had previously heard it from Zenox, she had assumed it was merely a pretext to facilitate their arranged union.

“Seeking to uncover the root cause behind the rift between our kinds, I discovered certain records…”

Despite his evident fatigue, Ishel’s brow furrowed in contemplation.

“The catalyst that ignited the war between our clans was the Imperial sorcerer, Lumena Rohan.”

Unconsciously, Laria tightened her grip upon the journal she had retrieved from the study.

“For a sorcerer who had even cast the Imperial barrier, one would expect a wealth of information to remain. Yet it seemed as if someone had deliberately attempted to conceal or erase significant portions.”

Ishel extended a slim volume.

“These are the facts I managed to uncover over several years of restoration efforts.”

Coincidentally, Laria had been curious about Lumena Rohan herself. She had continuously wondered about the nature of this sorcerer and why her existence had remained shrouded in obscurity until now.

“I gratefully accept it.”

“I hope it proves insightful.”

Abruptly adopting a solemn demeanor, Ishel continued gravely.

“And in the near future, an ill fate shall befall Zenox.”

“…An ill fate?”

The ominous words struck Laria like a bolt of lightning, draining the color from her cheeks.

The loss of blood flow caused her fingertips to tingle with numbness.

“In my dream, I witnessed…”

Lowering his gaze, Ishel recounted the vision from his dream.

“Zenox, having lost all sense of will and purpose.”

Laria’s heart plummeted like a leaden weight.

Surely Zenox couldn’t fall victim to Marquis Hashir’s brainwashing?

“When and where might this occur?”

Though her voice trembled with the query, Ishel could only shake his head.

His prophetic dreams often lacked specificity.

Pinpointing the exact location and timeframe proved challenging.

Previously, Ishel had foretold Zenox embracing the white fox at an illegal auction, yet that prediction had never manifested.

Such was the inherent difficulty in precise interpretation.

“It seemed to be a forest setting… Most likely during the upcoming hunting competition to commemorate the harvest.”

An hunting competition in the wilderness would soon be held to celebrate the harvest season.

If any occasion called for venturing into the forest, that would be the prime candidate.

Having been apprised of Ishel’s prophetic visions, declining participation seemed prudent…

“Yet you stated that the future can’t be changed?”

“That’s rigth.”

No matter how desperately one fled, their fate could never be escaped.

Prophetic dreams existed not to change the future, but merely to prepare for its inevitability.

‘In that case, orchestrating the circumstances myself may prove more advantageous.’

Better to confront it with preparedness rather than be caught unawares.

Moreover, properly employing mind control techniques required substantial quantities of blood and physical components. Smuggling such materials past security checkpoints would severely hinder their effective deployment.

Emerging from her contemplation, Laria spoke.

“Have you heard the rumors of Marquis Hashir resorting to forbidden magic during the duel?”

“I have heard them, though their veracity remains uncertain.”

“I was the one who instigated those rumors.”

Ishel’s eyes widened in astonishment.

Laria proceeded to recount the entire sequence of events to Ishel.

As he listened in silence, his expression gradually hardened with grim severity.

Fury and indignation mingled with sympathy for Zenox, accompanied by lamentations of belated realization.

Having heard the full account, Ishel fixed Zenox with an indescribable gaze.

Despite his pretense of familiarity, he had been utterly oblivious to the truth.

Believing Zenox’s skewed path stemmed from the early loss of his parents, the hidden reality proved so appalling that his body trembled.

Exhaling a prolonged breath, Ishel studied Zenox’s impassive countenance.

Zenox seemed to regard the revelations as if they concerned a stranger, detached and disinterested.

Rising from his seat, Ishel stated:

“For now, I will inform His Majesty. You two should converse privately.”

The soft sound of the door closing echoed in the ensuing silence.

Finally alone, Laria turned her attention to Zenox.

His unnerving stillness had been a growing source of concern.

“Are you unwell?”

Zenox slowly shook his head in denial.

Yet to Laria’s eyes, his physical state appeared utterly debilitated.

A medical examination seemed advisable before any further discussion.

“Perhaps you should undergo an examination, just to be certain.”

As Laria rose to her feet, intending to depart and summon a physician, Zenox’s voice reached her ears.

“…Don’t leave.”

Halting in her tracks, Laria turned back toward him.

Following her gaze, Zenox pushed himself upright with a muttered insistence.

“I’m fine.”

Yet his demeanor belied his reassurance, exuding an aura of profound instability.

His desperate attempts to feign composure only amplified the unsettling sense of dissonance Laria had perceived since his arrival.

Undoubtedly, this wasn’t his usual self.

“Even so, would it not be prudent to undergo an examination?”

Uncertain if his condition stemmed from illness or injury, Laria’s primary concern remained Zenox’s evident distress.

“If you would only wait a moment…”

At that instant, the sound of shattering carried through the air.

Startled, Laria fell silent as the armor Zenox habitually wore fragmented, clattering to the floor in pieces.

His razor-sharp claws now fully exposed, yet he seemed incapable of even acknowledging the need for restraint.

“Are you going to leave again?”

At his murmured words, Laria unconsciously swallowed hard.

‘Again?’

Aside from her escape from the Krassium estate, when had she ever departed from Zenox’s presence?

Rather than responding, Laria met Zenox’s gaze directly.

His once brilliant, sun-like golden eyes had become utterly clouded, as murky as disturbed silt.

Despite her reflected visage, he didn’t truly seem to perceive her presence.

“I don’t know what to do.”

The shadows cast across Zenox’s features appeared ominously oppressive.

“Your Excellency.”

Though Laria called out to him, he showed no indication of comprehending her words.

Unable to suppress the unbridled force of his aura, the very air thickened to an almost suffocating density.

Dragging his palm down his face, Zenox muttered hoarsely.

“You had promised to remain by my side.”