CHAPTER 126: [NO MERCY FOR MONSTERS]

The Duchess stood abruptly.

No words.

No breath.

Only the thunder of her heart crashing like waves inside her ribs.

Her hands moved before her mind caught up, snatching the box from the maid’s trembling grasp.

Warm.

Wet.

Sticky.

Blood.

Fresh.

The velvet had soaked through.

She staggered back a step, the weight of it anchoring her soul in dread.

"No," she whispered, her voice a thread unraveling. "No, no—this can’t be—"

The maid stood frozen, pale as chalk, unsure whether to flee or weep.

But the Duchess didn’t wait.

Her fingers shook violently as she pried the box open.

And then—

The scent hit them.

Rancid. Metallic. Rot.

The kind of smell that made the stomach curl and the soul recoil.

Inside—

A severed hand.

Delicately placed.

Almost reverent.

The skin still warm.

The fingers curled slightly as if clinging to the last traces of life.

Painted nails.

Soft lilac.

The color she had painted.

For her.

And on the ring finger—

A gold band with an emerald crest.

The family seal.

Mirielle’s ring.

Her daughter’s ring.

No mistake.

No doubt.

The Duchess didn’t scream at first.

She simply stared.

Her mouth opened, but nothing came.

Then—

A sound erupted from her throat—raw, guttural.

Both women screamed in unison.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA—!"

The box slipped from her hands, crashing to the floor with a sickening thud.

The hand rolled out.

Fingers first.

Dragging faint trails of blood across the polished marble.

It stopped at the Duchess’s feet, as if reaching for her.

She collapsed, knees giving out.

The maid barely caught her in time.

"My lady! Please—breathe—please!"

The Duchess clutched her chest, trembling, gasping like her lungs had been crushed.

The maid tried to hold her upright, tried to speak, but words were failing.

Then—

A glint of parchment.

Nestled in the box, untouched by the blood.

A folded letter.

The Duchess, still panting, reached out with shaking fingers and pulled it free.

The seal was intact.

Pressed in crimson wax.

The crest of the Western Province.

Kaelion’s crest.

She opened it.

And began to read.

Her tears dripped onto the ink.

But her eyes—burned.

###

To Her Grace,

Duchess Selvaris of the Southern Province,

Hello, hello.

I do hope this letter finds you in good health and excellent spirits.

Truly, I do.

As per your earlier request, I had the pleasure of meeting your daughter.

Regrettably... things didn’t go as either of us might’ve hoped.

I must confess, Duchess, I was rather surprised—shocked, even—by her boldness.

She approached me with a confidence that bordered on... desperation.

Attempting to seduce me so brazenly—how unbecoming of a noblewoman raised under your name.

It hurt me, Duchess.

It really did.

And between us—she’s not nearly as beautiful as you....

Still, I’m a forgiving man.

So, I decided to teach her a small lesson.

A gentle reminder in discipline, you might say.

But don’t worry.

She’s alive.

Safe.

And in... let’s call it stable condition.

No need to panic—yet.

Now, if you wish to reunite with your daughter, I’ve made the process quite simple.

On the back of this letter, you’ll find an address.

Bring five hundred thousand gold coins.

That’s all.

Just that little sum to buy back your precious daughter’s freedom.

One small note:

Come alone.

No guards.

No knights.

No curious little spies.

I have a rather delicate heart, you see.

If I sense betrayal or interference, I may get startled.

And accidents... happen.

And Duchess—if word of this reaches the palace, or any other ears—well.

Let’s just say you’ll be needing more than a hand to identify what’s left of your daughter.

So please, do keep this between us.

With all due respect and affection,

Kaelion Drenlor

Duke of the Western Province

Occasionally sentimental

Always thorough

###

As the last line of the letter sank in, Duchess Selvaris’s hands trembled.

Her breath hitched.

Her face twisted—not in sorrow, but in raw, blistering fury.

Crimson light flared from her fingertips as magic surged wildly.

With a single gesture, a blast of force shattered the wall behind her desk into a storm of marble and dust.

"Kaelion, you bastard!" she screamed, her voice echoing like thunder through the estate.

The maid flinched but didn’t flee.

She stepped forward, still pale, still trembling, but bold enough to speak.

"Please—milady—calm yourself," she pleaded.

"This rage will help nothing. The young lady is still in his hands..."

Selvaris stood amid the rubble, panting, the spell’s aftermath crackling across her skin.

For a moment, she said nothing.

Then she exhaled.

Once.

Twice.

The fury didn’t leave—but it crystallized.

Hardened.

Focused.

Kaelion Drenlor.

That name now pulsed in her mind like a curse.

She had thought him clever, yes.

Ambitious, perhaps.

But charming

Polite.

Even... innocent.

How wrong she had been.

Not a boy.

Not a man.

A monster in silk.

Her daughter hadn’t harmed him—had only wanted to meet him—and yet he had dared to play with her life?

To mock her?

To send a hand in a box and call it love?

Cruelty didn’t begin to cover it.

The Duchess’s voice was low now.

Measured.

Deadly.

"That brat thinks he can toy with the South?" she hissed.

She turned to the maid, eyes glowing red with magic and rage.

"Ready the war vaults.

Activate all reserve artifacts.

Call every assassin house we’ve ever blackmailed into loyalty—and double their fees."

"Y-Yes, milady," the maid whispered, backing away quickly.

"Mobilize the army.

Quietly.

I want my knights armored by midnight.

No fanfare. No noise."

"And when I take my daughter back," Selvaris said coldly,"the Western Province will burn."

She stood tall—serene now, but lethal as drawn steel.

The maid bowed and left the room without another word.

Left alone, Selvaris turned to the shattered wall, the open box, and the crumpled letter she now held like a bloodied oath.

Her eyes narrowed as she read Kael’s signature one last time.

"You’ve made a very grave mistake, Kaelion Drenlor," she whispered.

"And you’re going to pay for it in blood."

###