CHAPTER 107: CHAPTER 106. HOW THEY LOST THEIR EMPRESS CONSORT

Flashback

The night before the emperor began to spiral into full madness, Johan sent a secret message to Roxanne. And Roxanne passed it to Vivianne, believing she needed to see it.

Inside the letter, Liselotte explained that she no longer felt safe in the Silvaris Palace. She had been locked inside her palace, the Silvaris Palace, for the empress consort. She’s being watched day and night, unable to step beyond the doors without permission, because the royal knights keep following her everywhere and giving reports directly to the emperor.

She wrote that she had tried to contact her own brother. She begged him to come for her, to take her back home, to save her from the emperor’s sudden temper and strange cruelty.

But her brother, the current count of Rothschild, didn’t believe her words. He told her she was overreacting and that she simply needed to obey the emperor and endure. Even her mother had told her to stop complaining.

When Vivianne finished reading, her jaw tightened until her teeth hurt. She knew that fear. She knew exactly how it felt when Dietrich locked her away. The walls that felt too close. The breath that would not fill her lungs. The way silence could become louder than screams.

And while she remembered that Liselotte once treated her poorly back in the Rothschild estate, the memory didn’t erase the pain she understood too well. Duke Eisenwald had also sent word, asking Roxanne to please help the empress consort. He said that Liselotte hadn’t agreed to any of Dietrich’s growing madness, and she shouldn’t be dragged into it.

Vivianne wanted to answer him and wanted to ask why no one had ever made such requests for her in her first life. But she couldn’t say anything back, because none of them remembered her first life. None remembered the way she had lived and suffered.

She whispered, almost unable to breathe, "I also never asked to be part of Dietrich’s madness. No one helped me either."

Her voice broke, and the tears came faster than she could stop them. Every emotion she had been holding inside rose at once. Anger. Betrayal. Emptiness.

Roxanne pulled her into her arms. She could feel every piece of Vivianne’s pain as if it were her own. The heartbreak of watching herself in Vivianne’s first life refuse help and stay in the North in that first life. The memory tasted bitter in both their chests.

Vivianne took a deep breath, then, staring at her wife, said softly, "I know how it feels to be alone." She took a slow breath. "So please, save Liselotte. She’s still my sister. After everything ends, I will slap her myself."

Roxanne then turned to Marvessa. "Do as my wife asks."

At this moment, Marvessa is the only one who could get Liselotte out without drawing attention. She had once been a shadow knight of the emperor. She knew every secret hallway, hidden door, and silent staircase in the palace. Even other shadow knights didn’t know them all.

Just as Marvessa prepared to leave, Vivianne spoke again. "Wait, Marvessa. Kneel." Marvessa immediately lowered herself without question. Vivianne placed her hand over Marvessa’s forehead.

"With the power of the spirit kings that live with me, I remove the curse in your bloodline," Vivianne said. Her voice is steady, but the air around them trembled. "And from this moment on, the only royals of Erengard you shall never betray are Roxanne de Borgia and her heirs."

A sudden, burning pain spread across Marvessa’s entire body. Her blood heated like fire moving through her veins. She gasped and dropped to her hands, her breath catching as something old and rotten forced its way out of her.

Black blood spilled from her mouth. She coughed again and again, her body shaking until the curse was gone. She collapsed, exhausted, and Mara, who had been nearby, rushed to hold her upright.

The room inside the tent stayed quiet except for the sound of Marvessa struggling to breathe. The ancient bond that tied every assassin born in Elderglen to the royal blood of Erengard had been shattered at last.

It was something that was believed to be eternal, something no oath or blade could ever undo, yet it now lay broken like glass. A new vow shaped itself in the silence, brighter and sharper than the old one had ever been.

Marvessa slowly pushed herself up from the floor. Her limbs trembled, but her eyes were clear. She wiped the dark stain from the corner of her mouth and let out a breath that sounded like the first true breath of her life. Her shoulders felt lighter, her movements steadier, as if a weight she had carried since birth had finally been lifted.

"Dietrich will no longer be able to control you," Vivianne said. Her voice was soft, but there was certainty in it. Not a threat, not a hope, but a truth.

Marvessa lowered herself back into a kneel, not out of force, but out of choice. Her head bowed low. "Then I offer my life to you, Your Grace. I will serve you, your wife, and your lineage for as long as I live."

Mara had been watching from the side, her hands still hovering near Marvessa’s shoulders in case she collapsed again. She let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding and smiled. She didn’t fully understand what had changed, but she could see that Marvessa was no longer weighed down by something unseen.

"Yes, Marvessa. I accept your vow," Vivianne said.

The moment her words settled into the air, a faint light appeared on Marvessa’s forehead. It glowed like a small crest, a sign that her loyalty had been acknowledged by the power that lived alongside Vivianne. This mark is recognized by spirits that are older than any kingdom.

Vivianne stepped forward. Her voice steadied. "Now, please save my sister."

Roxanne moved to stand beside her. "Bring her to the Fenclade Dominion. If she reaches there, no one loyal to Dietrich will dare to chase her. That land is outside his shadow."

Vivianne placed her hand over Marvessa’s. "The spirits will watch over you from the treetops. The Luthens will guide your steps through the ancient forest. You will not be alone."

Marvessa rose for the final time, the air around her turning still and sharp. "Yes, Your Grace."

She turned to leave, but she isn’t leaving alone. Roxanne had already chosen two of her Borgia knights to accompany her. They moved like whispers, swift and quiet, trained to step without leaving a trace. They can match her speed and precision.

Mara’s voice cut through the bustle of preparation with the kind of authority that made people listen without thinking about it, and she didn’t bother to soften her tone. "No scratch on her, or I will deal with both of you later." Her eyes bored into the two mixed-blood demon knights who had been posted to move with Marvessa.

One of the knights chuckled, the sound low and easy. "Don’t worry, Sir Mara," he answered, the words smooth. "We will protect your wife."

The reply had barely left his mouth before Marvessa launched a protest that’s half indignation and half flustered embarrassment. "What? No, no, I’m not her wife yet," she cried, cheeks hot enough to burn, three shades brighter than her usual calm.

Mara only smiled, a slow, satisfied curve that mixed pride and amusement in equal parts. "Tell my cousin Leonhart Fenclade that Mara Fenclade’s wife is to be treated well," she said with a tone that made the command sound like both a joke and a decree.

She watched Marvessa for a moment, enjoying the way the younger woman’s face betrayed all the color in her. The camp hummed around them, but Mara’s expression held a private amusement that did not evaporate easily.

Marvessa blinked, as if trying to decide whether Mara was mocking her or flattering her, and then the truth of her heritage seemed to dawn. "You are a Fenclade?" she finally asked, the disbelief plain and ringing in her voice.

"Yeah," Mara said simply, as if the fact that her father came from the Fenclade line were ordinary news that required no further explanation. The way she said it made the revelation land like a small, bright stone tossed into the water of Marvessa’s surprise.

"Unbelievable," Marvessa breathed, stamping one boot on the ground in a show of childish protest before spinning on her heel and moving toward her assignments.

Roxanne watched them leave, her face showing no emotion. Then she turned to Vivianne; she could see a mix of feelings in her wife’s eyes: relief, but also determination. Vivianne met her gaze and nodded once, a silent agreement that meant more than words could express.

The plan was underway. The rescue had started.

Meanwhile, in the grand halls of the imperial palace, the court carried on with its routines and started to get the news about the Borgia’s knights at the city border. The empire would remain unaware about what will happen and lost until it was too late to act.