PFKWR Chapter 1

Misfortune has a way of striking at the happiest moments in life. The day he found her was no exception.

Lysia, reading a book inside a worn-down cabin, rose from her seat at the sound of a knock.

That must be the folks coming back from town.

Smiling brightly as she always did, she opened the door, only to pale in an instant.

“Kai…lus.”

The shadow cast by the uninvited guest fell upon Lysia’s trembling frame.

“I’m honored you haven’t forgotten me.”

How could she possibly forget him? The man standing before her- Kailus Deymon – was someone who left such a powerful impression that even a brief encounter with him would be unforgettable.

Behind his broad shoulders, armed men clad in steel began to gather around the small cabin. His subordinates ensured every escape route was sealed, should she try to flee.

Dressed in a black uniform adorned with countless medals, he crossed the threshold into her modest space as if he owned it.

She glanced down at herself. Unlike him, clad in the ceremonial garb of the Imperial Knight Order, she was wearing a shabby, faded muslin dress, making her appearance all the more pitiful. But her ragged clothing was the least of her concerns.

“It seems our noble princess isn’t too pleased to see her husband after all this time.”

His piercing blue eyes, sharp and icy beneath slicked-back black hair, bore into her with unrelenting intensity. His gaze swept over her, finally settling on one spot, and instinctively, she shielded her stomach with her hands.

The corners of his firm mouth twisted slowly. Like a predator cornering its prey, he began closing the distance to her. The cabin was small, and her retreat was quickly halted by the wall behind her.

“Your Highness,” he murmured mockingly, “did you enjoy your brief excursion?”

He always addressed her formally when mocking or ridiculing her.

Lysia avoided his gaze, offering no reply. But he grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“…Haa.” A faint whimper escaped her lips, thick with fear. Their eyes met, locking in an unbearably heated exchange. Only then did his lips curl into a satisfied smile.

“Lysia de Yelka,” he drawled, “if you were alive all this time, you should have come to me. Instead of carrying another man’s bastard.”

Despite the ferocity of his words, his expression twisted into something like a sneer as his gaze dropped to her swollen belly.

Then, with a startlingly graceful movement, he bent down, placing his hand on her abdomen. His voice dropped to a low, sinister whisper.

“Little one, it doesn’t matter who your father is. From now on, I will be your father.”

What on earth was he saying to his own child? Lysia couldn’t comprehend his actions at all.

“I’ll find the bastard who got you pregnant,” he continued, his tone deceptively light, “and I’ll kill him, no matter what.”

Then you should just kill yourself. Lysia felt an overwhelming urge to reveal her child’s real father.

 

*  *  *

 

With a flawless victory marking the end of the invasion, the sounds of men and women’s passionate cries echoed throughout the military camp. The crown prince, basking in triumph, rewarded every soldier who participated in the war by granting them captured prisoners, expressing his gratitude for their efforts.

Though the prince was officially the supreme commander of the campaign, the true leader behind the battlefield was none other than the second-in-command and commander of the Imperial Knights, Kailus Deymon.

Now that the conquest was complete, exhaustion swept over Kailus like a crashing wave. He longed to quickly glance at whatever gift his longtime friend had sent and retire for the night.

As he was about to remove his helmet, a voice called out.

“Sir Deymon, His Highness has sent you a gift.”

“Bring it in.”

The gift from his cousin, lifelong friend, and Lord was unlike any he had received before.

A knight dragged in a woman dressed in a sheer negligée, her body exposed beneath the flimsy fabric. Bound and blindfolded, her mouth was gagged and she struggled on the soft goat’s wool carpet, seemingly unaware of how much of herself was visible.

The attendant who had brought her clicked his tongue disapprovingly as he glanced down at her.

“She is Lysia de Yelka, a bastard princess considered as a flaw in the royal lineage.”

“…Am I meant to take her as my wife?” Kailus asked, his tone indifferent.

“That is for you to decide, sir. If you find her unworthy, you may hand her over to your deputy officers. His Highness would surely understand if that is your wish.”

“You can leave now.”

It would have been better if Lysia couldn’t understand what they were saying, but the barbarians who had usurped her homeland spoke the common tongue of the continent, so she could understand every word exchanged. She was shocked by the words of the barbarians, and tried to move and feebly resist, but it was a futile effort as she was bound.

“Damn you, Diego,” Kailus muttered, the face of his cousin flashing in his mind. Diego had plotted to offer the princesses of Yelka to his father, and it seemed he’d even envisioned one becoming Kailus’s wife.

Unlike Kailus, a man of common origins, this woman—bastard-born or not—was still a princess of noble blood.

Lost in thought, Kailus finally decided to let fate choose for her. He began removing his steel armor and leather gauntlets, the pieces falling heavily to the floor as he approached her.

At his unfamiliar touch, she flinched violently, resisting with all the strength she could muster. Ignoring her struggles, he reached to remove her blindfold first.

As her vision returned, Lysia glanced around in confusion, her wide eyes darting about like a frightened animal in unfamiliar territory. Her panicked expression struck him as strangely endearing, like a lost fawn, and he chuckled softly.

The sound of his laugh drew her attention, and she turned to look at him. Her two eyes, filled with fear, were as intensely green as a deep lake. It would be misleading to call the princess of Yelka’s eyes a flaw. They looked as though high-quality emeralds had been embedded in them.

Kailus reached out to her, who was momentarily stunned as she tried to grasp the situation. As the gag was removed, the freed princess let out a harsh, choking cough.

It was now time to understand the princess’s intentions.

“…Princess Lysia de Yelka.” Kailus, who had been silently watching for a while, called out her name. At the low, rasping sound of his voice, a shiver ran down Lysia’s spine.

“…Wh…?”

“Are you thirsty?”

She had intended to ask who he was, but days of being gagged had left her throat raw and dry, rendering speech nearly impossible. She could only nod weakly in response.

Understanding her condition, Kailus knelt to untie her hands and feet before bringing a flask to her lips.

Her thirst had long since surpassed her fear, and Lysia began gulping down the water frantically, almost mindlessly.

“Drink slowly,” he said.

After a while, as if feeding a baby bird, Kailus continued giving her water before finally returning to the bed.

Sitting perched on the bed, he casually threw out the grave question that would decide the fate of the princess of the fallen nation that he had destroyed with his own hands.

“Does the princess wish to live even if it means enduring shame? Or does she choose to preserve her honor through death?”

Her clear, wide green eyes grew large in an instant. The choices before her were only two: share his bed or take her own life. It seemed the rumors of barbarians executing prisoners who refused to share their bodies were true.

Lysia looked down at the pale gemstone-encrusted artifact bracelet on her right wrist. The bracelet, devoid of any magical function beyond negating other artifacts, was utterly useless at this moment. But to her, it held extraordinary meaning. The magic stone embedded in the center encased her mother’s remains. It couldn’t be undone without magic, so she was able to protect it from the barbarian soldiers.

To honor her mother’s final wishes, Lysia knew she must survive. And to survive, she had to give up her body.

After a long pause, Lysia bit her lips hard before finally answering.

“…I want to live.”

However, each and every one of Lysia’s insignificant and trivial actions was a blade slashing at Kailus’ pride.

To the princess, sleeping with him, who was neither the emperor nor the crown prince, but just a mere barbarian, must have been intolerable. Suppressing the sting of his wounded pride that had plummeted to the ground in an instant, Kailus sneered mockingly.

“Then all you need to do is sleep with a man of Noct. It doesn’t have to be me—anyone will do, won’t they? Shall I call in my men right now and let you pick whoever pleases you? You can choose as you like.”

Despite the obvious mockery, Lysia squared her shoulders and straightened her back, feigning an air of indifference.

Her entire life, she had endured the ridicule of being a bastard princess, but she had always strived to maintain her dignity as royalty, at least in front of the lower nobles and servants. This moment was no exception.

“…As long as I can survive, it doesn’t matter who it is.”

He looked at Lysia carefully. Beneath the loose, slipping negligee, her sharp collarbones and shoulders were exposed, and a glimpse of her ample chest was visible, along with her slender arms and legs.

His silver helmet, adorned with black feathers, tilted as his scrutiny became brazen. Lysia noticed his gaze and hastily pulled her thin, almost sheer negligee tightly around her chest, making an effort to cover herself.

Though Kailus had spent his life in training and restraint, the mere thought that a noble princess he believed he could never possess had fallen into his grasp instantly aroused him.

As a child, he had lost his parents, his title, and his lands, and grew up in the imperial palace like a hostage. Though his aunt was the Empress, and Diego, the Crown Prince, was his cousin, life in the palace was far from easy. Even glancing at the princesses of his age without any ill intent often turned him into a criminal.

Now, before his eyes stood the princess of Yelka.

The princess of Yelka carried a lineage so exceptional that it could legitimize the reign of any fledgling king of a newborn nation. Even as an illegitimate child, her pedigree could not be compared to the short-lived royal family of Noct.

A euphoria of victory, unlike anything he had ever felt on any battlefield, consumed his entire body. A sensation like blood rushing to one side of his lower body overtook him, leaving him wishing he could sever his own flesh to suppress it.

Kailus clenched his jaw tightly to hide his desire and slowly opened his mouth.

“There’s one thing you need to know.”

He removed his helmet, shaking loose his sweat-soaked black hair. The shining silver helmet fell to the ground with a loud clang, echoing through the tent.

The first thing to catch her eye was his vivid blue gaze, his face appearing more like that of a noble knight than a barbarian warrior.

Contrary to expectations of a brutish and rugged visage, his features were sharp, refined, and expressive. His slightly tanned, smooth skin accentuated the angles of his face, leaving him striking and symmetrical.

With a flawless face, he leisurely swept aside a stray lock of hair that had fallen over his brow.

“I’m the one who cut off your father’s head.”

For a moment, Lysia was at a loss for words. For a moment, her eyes sparkled like stars, but she quickly lowered her head, fearing her ugly nature might show.

If she were to sleep with this man, she would commit an utterly perfect act of desecration. It would be the ultimate revenge against the royal family of Yelka, who had tormented and abused her all her life.

Suppressing her excitement, Lysia lifted her head. Her plump, red lips hesitated before parting slightly.

“No matter what you’ve done, my decision won’t change. It doesn’t matter who I share my bed with.”

Kailus let out a savage laugh, his fierce eyes narrowing lazily in satisfaction.

“Remarkable. A degenerate princess willing to bed the man who killed her father.” Eyeing her with curiosity, Kailus beckoned her with a crook of his finger. “Come here.”

Lysia tried to rise at his command, but her legs refused to cooperate, leaving her stumbling. Clicking his tongue at her helplessness, Kailus approached and scooped her into his arms.

Her small frame shivered the moment it came into contact with his cold steel armor. His height forced her to wrap her arms around his neck to keep from slipping.

For a moment, Lysia’s gaze met his, but she quickly averted her eyes. She couldn’t bear the intensity of the searing blue fire in his relentless stare, which burned with nothing but fervent lust.

She instinctively knew that tonight, this man would devour her whole.