Watching the butterfly’s swift suppression of his madness, Duran’s eyes widened, and he stood frozen in place.
He felt a sense of relief and a slight alleviation of pain just by touching her body.

Although his eyes were closed, Karaf’s body still trembled as if immersed in icy water, and his breath was rough.

He had exhausted all his strength trying to suppress his madness alone, locking himself in this room for several hours.

Suddenly, a tear rolled down from his eyes.

In truth, he, too, did not want to harm anyone with his thorns.

Since no one loved him, he just wanted to take one step closer on his own.

However, he didn’t know how to approach…

Understanding his feelings only now, Aisha silently caressed his head.

Karaf, breathing heavily, opened his eyes shakily.

There were surely many things to say when he looked at Aisha, but now nothing came to his mind.

Her embrace was so tender and peaceful that he wished this moment could last forever.

He wanted to say the clichéd words of “thank you and sorry,” but now he had no strength to speak, so he just exhaled.

Aisha slowly felt his heartbeat calming down.

When a flower touches a butterfly, it seems to stabilize.

Yearning and feeling a sense of security in the butterfly’s embrace…

It was impossible to guess how anxious Karaf’s early years had been.

The Imperial citizens who were ignorant of his curse only thought of him as a tyrant obsessed with slaughter.

And rightly so, as rumors of countless deaths due to his tyranny had spread widely.

Even Aisha, before coming to the palace, had known him only like that.

His resentment towards the minority race was even more severe, not to mention insufficient.

Karaf seemed not to deny the evaluation of himself.

It was partly true, and he thought it would be easier to rule if the image of a tyrant was implanted in the minds of the people.

Since the spread of those rumors, no other empire dared to attack the Etzheim Empire easily, and there were no noble factions trying to seize power or shake him.

As the price for the stigma he carried, he chose the path that brought stability to the empire.

Aisha turned to Duran and said slowly, “We need to move him to another room.”

“What? But if His Majesty goes mad again… at that time, it’ll really be unstoppable…”

“That won’t happen.”

Duran was worried about her safety when he spoke, but Aisha spoke so firmly that he closed his mouth.

He bowed his head once and then accepted the lord directly from Aisha.

With the support of both, Karaf was moved to an empty room on the second floor.

Under the bright candlelight, Aisha could closely examine the red vines entwining his heart.
At the center of the vines, the area around the heart, where a crescent moon was originally engraved, was now filled with a red moon, resembling a full moon.

Due to the curse, on nights when the moon did not rise in the sky of Sakh, a red moon had risen over his chest.

As Aisha touched the full moon pattern, blood-like veins around it trembled, and a tumultuous movement began.

As the curse pattern reacted intensely to her, Karaf, too, twisted in apparent pain, frowning and gasping for breath.

Behind them, Duran watched all of this tensely.

Aisha pressed his heart with both hands, taking a moment to gather herself, as if performing artificial respiration.

‘Saving a life. Don’t hesitate.’

She then kissed Karaf, breathing into his mouth.

At that moment, surprisingly, the red veins that spread like vines on his chest began to gradually retreat into the pattern.

Karaf’s rough breath, as if he were about to die, also calmed considerably.

Pressing her lips against the pattern once again, the full moon slowly crumpled and returned to a faint crescent moon shape.

This curse vine emerged once a month, protruding outward in an attempt to bloom. If unsuccessful, it retracted into the heart, hiding.

Because of the complex of the black rose, Karaf rarely showed his face to the imperial citizens.

It was an ironically fitting pattern for him, hiding within countless thorny rumors of being a tyrant.

After calmly finishing the procedure, Aisha wiped the cold sweat from her forehead and soaked a towel in a basin of cold water.

Then, she quietly wiped Karaf’s blood-stained body.

His face, with closed eyes, looked pale and serene, as if all the blood had drained out.

His body was filled with scratch marks, evidence of such intense pain…

Aisha bit her lower lip.

Once a month, Karaf used to forcibly unite with her.

Whenever that day came, he would lose his sanity and rush at her more wildly than usual. Perhaps it was all due to this madness.

Every time they kissed and touched, he seemed to exhale deeply, feeling a sense of calm.

Watching him settle down after their physical contact earlier, Aisha was certain.

For him, the existence of a butterfly was indeed like a savior.

Even though he was the adversary she desperately wanted to escape, the one who tormented her to the point of wanting to die, seeing him in such agony made her heart ache.

However, that was the moment.

“…Thank you for saving His Majesty, Lady Bannetsha.”

Aisha turned her head towards the voice.

Duran was bowing at the doorway.