Married To The Enemy Kingdom's Illegitimate Prince-Chapter 133 — Where Is He?

The faint sun rays struck the sky while Lucian strolled near the entrance of the grand mansion. His footsteps were slow, his mind preoccupied with the unsettling events of the past few days.

He had been brooding over the secrets Duke Ramsel had revealed under pressure, forced by Cynthia’s cold determination to keep him captive.

Lucian wasn’t sure whether he felt more angered or horrified at the truths that had surfaced.

"Her parents were murdered by her uncle, the king and queen of Selvarys..." he murmured to himself, the weight of those revelations pressing heavily on his shoulders.

He halted suddenly when a flash of red light streaked across the sky, its radiance so intense it lit up the entire courtyard. He froze, a deep sense of déjà vu washing over him.

"I’ve seen this before..." he whispered, his voice barely audible against the stillness of the morning.

But before he could process the thought, a sharp, searing pain shot through his head. His vision blurred, and his knees buckled beneath him. Darkness crept into his eyes, unable to see anything, leaving his body crumpled on the ground like a lifeless doll.

***

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the marble hallways as Cynthia rushed to the main building.

The frantic whispers of the servants reached her ears before she even saw them.

"Where is His Highness?" she demanded, her voice sharper than intended, though it betrayed the panic coursing through her.

One of the maids stepped forward timidly.

"The Duke... he lost consciousness outside the mansion. We carried him to his room."

Her heart dropped.

"Take me to him," she ordered firmly, pushing past the crowd with Arlot who trailed her closely.

Upon entering his bedchamber, the sight of Lucian’s pale, sweat-soaked face as he lay on the grand bed made her chest tighten. His usually sharp and piercing eyes were shut, his breaths uneven, his body restless.

"What happened?!" she asked the physician who was meticulously checking his vitals.

The old man looked up, his expression grim. "I’m unsure, Your Highness. He is suffering from a severe fever, but it’s unlike anything I’ve seen before. It’s almost as if..." he hesitated, unsure how to articulate his suspicion.

"Speak clearly," Cynthia snapped.

"...as if his body is fighting against itself, trying to awaken something dormant within him."

Cynthia inhaled sharply, her nails digging into her palms as she turned to Arlot. She came to alert the grand duke about the grand war against demons approaching but that was no longer an option.

"Find my brothers and gather all their men. Bring Edric with them—and make sure to bring the spell to unlock that place."

Arlot nodded, sensing the urgency, and left without hesitation despite the questions creeping in.

The heavy silence of the room was broken only by Lucian’s soft groans and the rustling of Cynthia’s gown as she paced back and forth.

Her hands clenched and unclenched, her thumb brushing over her bottom lip in an anxious habit.

She had always prided herself on being composed, ready to face whatever challenges arose. But now, standing in this room with Lucian’s life hanging in the balance and the kingdom unknowingly on the brink of disaster, she realized how unprepared she truly was.

"I thought I’d have more time," she muttered under her breath. "I was supposed to deal with this after my revenge—after I dismantled those who betrayed me." She paused, her gaze flickering to Lucian’s ashen face. "But now..."

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of hurried footsteps.

Glain burst into the room, followed closely by Dylan. Both men looked visibly distressed.

"Your Highness!"

He halted, noticing the grand duke lying on the bed, groaning in pain.

"What happened?!"

"He is... suffering from his Rune, I suppose. However, what brings you here?"

Demons are attacking Erion as we speak!" Glain hesitantly announced breathlessly. "They’re spreading chaos across the city. What are your orders?"

Although he couldn’t fully trust her, he knew she wouldn’t harm the duchy now that she was a part of it as well.

Cynthia’s blood ran cold.

The demons—they were supposed to remain sealed, trapped behind the barriers separating the human world and the demon world.

How did the Queen manage to unlock those portals?

She forced herself to focus, pushing the questions aside. There would be time for answers later.

"Protect the people," she commanded, her voice steady despite the storm raging within her. "Hold them off until we can call for reinforcements. One of you must ride to the Crown Prince immediately. Tell him to come here without delay."

Glain nodded and turned to leave, but Dylan lingered, his gaze falling on Lucian. His brows furrowed as he took in the Duke’s condition.

"I’m trusting you with His Highness this time, Your Highness."

For once, Dylan’s voice carried some respect and a calm tone compared to his usual disrespectful and rude tone.

The hours that followed were a blur of chaos and tension. Cynthia remained at Lucian’s side, her mind racing with plans and contingencies as she waited for everyone to arrive. She sent messengers to neighbouring territories, calling for aid, and instructed the maids to prepare the mansion in case it became a refuge for those fleeing the attacks.

Outside, the sounds of battle echoed faintly, a grim reminder of the danger that loomed ever closer.

"Your Highness," one of the maids ventured hesitantly, "shouldn’t you rest? You’ve been awake for hours."

"I’ll rest when this is over," Cynthia snapped, though her voice lacked its usual venom. She glanced at Lucian, her expression softening. He was still feverish, his body wracked with occasional tremors.

"Hang on, Your Highness," she murmured, her fingers brushing lightly against his hand. "No matter how complicated things might be between us... I need you. The kingdom needs you, the god of war, to protect them from these monsters."

***

Outside the city of Erion, the scene was one of devastation. The demons moved swiftly, their grotesque forms tearing through buildings and scattering civilians. Glain and Dylan led the charge against them, their swords gleaming as they cut down one demon after another. But for every demon they felled, two more seemed to take its place.

"We can’t hold them off forever," Glain shouted, wiping blood from his brow. "Where’s the Crown Prince?"

"On his way, hopefully," Dylan replied grimly. "If he doesn’t arrive with the royal knights soon, we’re finished."

A loud, guttural roar echoed through the air, shaking the ground beneath their feet. The soldiers surrounding Glain and Dylan faltered, their weapons trembling in their hands as a massive demon emerged from the smoke. Its towering form dwarfed the buildings, with jagged horns curling back like a crown and glowing red eyes that seemed to pierce through their very souls.

"By the gods..." Dylan whispered, gripping his sword tighter.

The demon’s massive clawed hand slammed into the earth, sending soldiers flying like ragdolls while buildings collapsed. It let out another roar, a sound so deafening it seemed to drain the courage from their hearts along with their strength.

"Retreat!" Glain shouted, grabbing Dylan by the arm. "We need to regroup! We can’t take that thing head-on!"

"But the civilians—" Dylan protested, his eyes darting to the terrified people still trying to flee.

"We’ll lose everyone if we die here!" Glain snapped. "Retreat to the city’s central market and set up a defensive line! Go!"

Reluctantly, Dylan nodded, rallying the remaining soldiers to follow. They moved quickly, their retreat protected by mages who shielded them with protection spells. Smaller demons pursued them, and they were shot down by arrows the knights struck their way. But the massive demon remained relentless, tearing through buildings and throwing debris like toys.

***

Back at the mansion, Cynthia stood at the window, her expression unreadable as she watched the distant glow of fires spreading across the city.

The muffled sounds of screams and battle reached even the fortified walls of the estate. Her fingers tightened around the hilt of the sword at her side. It was the same horrifying scene as in her past life.

Within a few hours, the duchy had turned into a bloody mess.

"Your Highness," a voice called softly behind her.

She turned to see Anni, her maid, standing hesitantly by the door.

"What is it?" Cynthia asked, her voice colder than she intended.

Anni flinched but pressed on.

"The scouts have returned. They say the demons are advancing faster than expected. The central market will fall within the hour if reinforcements don’t arrive."

Cynthia closed her eyes, steadying her breathing.

The situation was spiralling out of control, and she could feel the weight of it pressing down on her chest. If the central market fell, the city would be lost not too long after—and with it, thousands of innocent lives.

She turned to Lucian, who was now seated on the edge of the bed, his movements peculiarly slow though his expression remained tense.

His emerald eyes met hers, and for the first time, she saw a flicker of something that might have been concerning.

"I will assume you feel better since you can sit on your own. We can’t wait any longer. Demons have been freed and Erion will be destroyed if we don’t take action," Cynthia said firmly. "You need to lead the charge, Your Highness. I will heal you constantly if you suffer any injuries. The people need you."

Lucian hesitated, his jaw tightening.

"Do you think I can?.."

"Don’t doubt yourself," Cynthia said, stepping closer. "You just need to trust me. Do you not?"

Lucian’s gaze shifted to the sword at her side, then back to her face.

"And what about you? What will you do?"

"I’ll join the fight," Cynthia replied without hesitation. "I can’t sit here and watch my people suffer. Besides..." Her lips curved into a faint, almost bitter smile. "I’m not as defenceless as I might seem."

Lucian stood, nodding at her.

"Then, let’s end this together this time."

This time?

Cynthia wondered for a second but she shook her head, assuming she had heard it wrong.

"Let’s go."

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