Even in that moment, Hersis’s expression was calm, and his tone was composed. So, the people who remained in the square seemed to think that Ishaar had pledged eternal loyalty to Hersis, and Hersis was gladly accepting the pledge.
A content smile adorned everyone’s lips.
“I don’t think you would suspect my woman, Duke of Valdemion.”
Ishaar didn’t respond.
“Why say such things now?”
Hersis tilted his head, genuinely curious.
“Because I… am repenting for my mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“The mistake of surpassing someone I shouldn’t have dared to challenge.”
“Anyone can harbor feelings. I have no intention of controlling that, Ishaar.”
Hersis remained consistently composed. At least, that’s how it appeared to others.
But he knew.
He was less calm than Ishaar, who wore a dismal expression and avoided eye contact.
Hersis briefly reviewed when Ishaar started deceiving him. Countless new circumstances kept emerging, to the point that it seemed impossible not to have known for such a long time.
He couldn’t believe he had remained oblivious for so long.
His head felt like it was going to explode.
But like a beast that never revealed its weaknesses until the moment of death, Hersis successfully hid any signs of disturbance and feigned composure.
“Caisel.”
At Hersis’s call, the chief of the guards, who was not far from the dais, rushed over.
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
He bowed his head, awaiting orders.
But there were no orders. Only, his sword, sheathed at his waist, was unsheathed.
The sun, emerging from the clouds, cast its light on the blade, turning it pure white. Hersis brought it to rest against one of Ishaar’s shoulders. Ishaar’s body stiffened.
“Relax.”
Hersis whispered.
“People are watching.”
Ishaar bit his lower lip and lowered his head.
The people who were standing at a distance began applauding. It was a sign of respect for the long-standing friendship and the display of loyalty between the two.
However, Hersis’s eyes were fixed on Ishaar’s neck.
Light and shadow divided his neck. It looked like a line drawn when practicing bamboo cutting as a child. Then, a strange impulse arose.
Strength flowed into the hand holding the sword.
“Your… Maj… Majesty.”
Someone approached and spoke with a trembling voice. It was Clovin.
“You… should… probably return now.”
It was a surprisingly firm voice, as if summoning all the courage. He sensed an unusual energy emanating from himself. Perhaps madness…
Hersis returned the sword to the chief of the guards and stepped back.
Amidst the applause from the crowd, Clovin’s shoulders sank with a sigh of relief.
Until then, Ishaar had kept his eyes closed.
He had a resolute expression, as if he had already prepared himself. His demeanor perfectly matched the epithet “noble lineage.”
“Get up,” Hersis said. Ishaar opened his eyes and rose from the ground.
“Go home and wait quietly,” Hersis instructed. That was the extent of Hersis’s care.
Ishaar obediently complied.
Hersis turned away from him. Clovin, looking unsure of what to do, glanced at Ishaar briefly before quickly following Hersis.
As people once again dispersed like parting seawater, Hersis walked through the gap.
That was the last event in the square.
“Sigh…”
The sound of Hersis’s deep sigh disrupted the silence of the makeshift sleeping quarters.
He thought.
If Clovin hadn’t stopped him in time, he might have truly slit Ishaar’s throat.
Faster and smoother than a guillotine.
He was confident that he could have brushed off such a situation leniently, but it was a perfect delusion. When he gripped the sword, his nature reacted involuntarily. The male’s instinct to destroy the intruder that dared to challenge him.
And he was a particularly threatening male…
How could this happen? How did he not notice Ishaar’s feelings at all?
He, who was stern and cold to all women but softened only in front of Liz, why did he think that was an expression of respect and courtesy toward the Empress?
Hersis shook his head at his own dullness.
He seemed like a foolish character from a clichéd novel, clearly showing his flaws but remaining completely oblivious.
If the other person wasn’t Liz, would he have become a despised husband?
“Maybe. Ishaar is quite a charming guy.”
Hersis chuckled.
“He doesn’t know. It was my unrequited love.”
If Liz knew, she would never have allowed Ishaar to stay by her side.
And Hersis bet half of his heart that Liz knew.
If Liz had known, she wouldn’t have kept Ishaar by her side.
And Hersis bet the other half of his heart that Liz had never harbored any negative feelings.
She didn’t have the luxury to do so. She was too busy dealing with the tragedy she believed was destined. The tragedy of Hersis’s death.
But still, Hersis occasionally felt that Liz had Ishaar in mind for some reason.
“How is Ishaar as a knight?”
“Do you trust him? How much?”
Looking back now, it was truly perplexing.
Subtle yet complex questions, as if expressing vigilance or interest.
My Ex-Girlfriend Is The Regent In The Female-dominant World (Male lead transmigrates to the matriarchal world)
Two years ago, Gu Sui picked up a homeless woman in ancient costume from the street.
Apart from occasionally claiming to be a princess from a female-dominant country due to illness, her figure, appearance, intelligence, and martial arts skills were impeccable.
Naturally evolving from roommates to girlfriends, as time went on, Gu Sui found it increasingly difficult to tolerate her queen syndrome.
“Mu Jiulu, can you stop controlling me inside and out? Let’s break up.”
Gu Sui made a breakup call, and since then, he couldn’t find any trace of her.
A year later, Gu Sui, who was planning to move, woke up the next day and found himself in a different place.
“Young Master, today is the day you choose your Wife-master through martial arts competition at Jade Dew Pavilion. Please get up quickly.”
Gu Sui: Who am I? Where am I? What am I doing?
As the only son of a general’s mansion in a female-dominant dynasty, the young empress personally issued a decree allowing Gu Sui to select his Wife-master through martial arts competition. Whoever could defeat him could marry him.
Gu Sui: “……”
He didn’t inherit the original owner’s martial prowess, so anyone could defeat him! And what the hell is a Wife-master?
Forced to come to Jade Dew Pavilion, the densely packed women below made Gu Sui’s agoraphobia act up, and his face was full of resistance.
Until he saw the Regent sitting on the second floor, with a smile on the corner of her lips, her eyes wicked and nonchalant.
Hmm… she looked a little familiar.
It turned out that the Regent also found him a little familiar.
Mu Jiulu fiddled with her bone clasp, her deep gaze locked on the man who was out of place in this world.
“Finally, I found you.”
Male transmigrates into female-dominant world
One-sentence summary: What goes around comes around, taking turns in the crematorium
