Chapter 43: The Dreaming Girl (4)

Renaria realized that Lucas had failed immediately after he returned triumphantly and reported that he had captured the woman.

Praising him with gratitude as he boasted of his success, Renaria excused herself to prepare tea, humming cheerfully as she imagined the woman’s fate.

Should she be stripped of her status and exiled from the country?

Or perhaps sold off to slave traders or a brothel?

The Sandis Kingdom was generally safe—but not entirely.

There were places where things were… less so.

A woman who had been defiled and abused would never find a respectable marriage.

The higher her status, the more devastating even mere rumors would be.

With Albeltiina gone, the fiancées of the capture targets—starting with Vivian—would be the prime candidates for condemnation next.

This would make for the perfect rehearsal.

Completely elated, Renaria failed to notice the hand reaching from behind her.

By the time she realized, her hair had been yanked violently, slamming her to the floor.

A gag was forced into her mouth.

Her hands and feet were bound, and she was dragged roughly along.

Still stunned, she looked up—and saw someone she had never seen before.

…What a beautiful person.

Her heart trembled from the depths of her being.

A numbing sweetness spread through her.

Though older than her, his overwhelming presence more than made up for the difference.

His beauty was almost inhuman.

Glossy ash-brown hair, a noble forehead, intelligent brows, and long lashes casting shadows over cool eyes.

His jewel-like irises were pale blue.

A straight nose, thin lips curved into a bewitching smile.

His attire was equally refined—

a deep navy cloak, a finely embroidered white coat and trousers, and a gray vest.

A small brooch adorned his chest—though Renaria did not know it, it was a medal signifying rank and honor.

Even without much knowledge of men’s fashion, she was struck by how sophisticated he looked.

His movements were elegant, his bearing flawless—

a truly magnificent man.

Among all the noble youths she had seen at the academy, he stood apart—

more refined, more imposing than any of them.

Though restrained by the knight accompanying him, Renaria initially tried to look toward Lucas for help—

but the moment she saw the duke’s beauty, her eyes could not leave him.

He was the Duke of Latiche.

Kishtarial’s stepfather—and Albeltiina’s father? Him?

He didn’t look like a man with children her age.

Tall and slender, his profile showed no sign of age.

He was simply too beautiful to comprehend.

Greil von Latiche.

Even within the “I Fell in Love With You” series, he was one of the most difficult characters to conquer.

Only after completing all character endings could he appear randomly at the academy, the royal palace, or social events.

Even then, the encounter itself was random.

The timing and order of key choices were also random, and all parameters had to be raised significantly.

Even with inheritance mechanics, it took countless retries just to meet him.

And above all—his routes had a high mortality rate.

Not for him, but for the heroine.

She might be attacked by jealous rivals, caught in conspiracies against him, or even executed on a whim if he was in a bad mood.

Sometimes she would simply be expelled from the academy.

Because of his unreadable nature and extreme difficulty, he was called the Demon King or hidden final boss.

Strangely, Albeltiina never appeared in his events.

His abnormal requirements meant only a few players had ever cleared him—often requiring hundreds of attempts.

It was said the key to conquering him was sheer willpower, determination, and luck.

Yet his overall performance was unrivaled among all characters.

Some even claimed he alone could sustain an entire nation.

According to those who succeeded, the heroine became his second wife and was utterly cherished—treated like a delicate flower.

But rumors whispered of darkness, as his daughter Albeltiina and stepson Kishtarial were casually married off elsewhere.

Still, Greil’s obsessive love for one woman earned him a devoted fanbase.

His difficulty was extreme—but Renaria herself had failed to conquer him in her previous life and eventually gave up.

…She wanted him.

After all, she was the heroine.

This world existed for her—for Renaria Duches.

She alone was worthy to stand beside him.

Though not well-versed in high society, she knew the Latiche ducal house was immensely powerful and wealthy.

And his position as duke’s wife was vacant.

After all, Albeltiina had driven Kishtarial’s mother to death—

or so Renaria believed.

…She had forgotten something.

At the academy, countless men had danced in the palm of her hand.

They had fallen easily to her calculated sweet words, and she reveled in her advantage of game knowledge.

Minor discrepancies could be handled.

But she had never imagined that Kishtarial didn’t hate Albeltiina—

but instead felt the opposite.

His intense attachment came from love and devotion—

and the hatred was directed at Renaria instead.

His real mother was alive and well, sharing tea with Albeltiina as if it were natural.

The duke doted on his beloved daughter, and because Albeltiina accepted them, neither Kishtarial nor his mother was mistreated.

There was none of the family discord from the game.

To Kishtarial, Albeltiina was a gentle, beautiful elder sister—

a fragile woman bearing childhood trauma, whose very weakness made her all the more precious.

Renaria had also assumed Julius suffered under Albeltiina.

In truth, he harbored intense emotions—longing, desire, devotion—hidden beneath his servant’s mask.

Far from a lifeless puppet, he was a man driven by ambition to claim the woman he had cherished since childhood.

And Mikhailis—

though Renaria believed he had no connection, he had been faithfully sending letters to Albeltiina.

Both he and his sister owed her a deep debt from childhood, and his first love for her had only grown stronger with time.

He would gladly devote his sword—and more—if she wished.

But Renaria, an unrefined country noble, could not understand the meaning behind his gestures.

…And above all—

Greil himself adored Albeltiina.

Renaria, gazing dreamily at Greil, had no idea what cold thoughts lay behind his aqua-blue eyes.

He would never whisper words of love to her.

Her fleeting dream shattered in blood.

Something heavy rolled across the floor—

a human head.

Blood splattered near her face.

At first, she thought she saw a glimmer of light—

only later realizing it was the blade of a sword, translucent like glass, glowing faintly.

The young noble who had been begging for his life moments ago was now silent forever.

His body convulsed faintly, blood pouring endlessly from his neck.

“Show it to His Highness.”

“As you wish.”

At Greil’s command, Julius picked up the severed head, wiped it clean, and placed it so Lucas could see clearly.

Renaria saw it too.

Unable to bear the sight, she turned away, pale, retching.

She vomited despite herself.

Lucas, confronted with the face of a man who had just been alive, turned pale.

This was the result of his actions.

Another crying youth was brought forward—

and beheaded just as easily.

Blood stained the carpet deeply, splashing onto Greil’s boots and hem.

The heads were placed neatly on silver trays.

Lucas’s once-bright emerald eyes darkened with fear and guilt.

Renaria watched it all in a daze.

Her mouth tasted sour, her body felt unwell—

so she averted her gaze from the grotesque scene and focused only on beauty.

The duke with his flawless blade—

and the prince collapsing under terror.

Yes… Greil was far more wonderful than Lucas.

There was no way she would be killed.

After all, she was the heroine.

She had conquered countless men—she could conquer Greil too.

All she needed was the chance to meet him properly.

She stared at him, willing him to notice her—

but he didn’t.

Lucas received glances—

she received none.

Then, suddenly—Greil looked up.

His smile changed.

It softened.

“—Father!”

“Ah, Albeltiina.”

The sweetness in his voice was overwhelming.

Ignoring the corpses, the panicked Lucas, and Renaria—

Greil turned fully toward her.

As if she were the only one in his world.

His gentle voice overflowed with affection.

Even without seeing her face, his love was unmistakable.

Renaria, collapsed on the floor, stared in disbelief.

No… no… no.

Albeltiina couldn’t be loved.

Only Renaria should be loved.

Yet Greil yielded to Albeltiina’s plea.

The slaughter ended with her words.

And just like that, he lost all interest in everyone else.

Leaving the aftermath to Kishtarial and the others, he departed with her.

Those involved were punished with suspension and warnings.

But Renaria—

was arrested before she could even return to her dorm.

The ones who seized her wore black, their eyes cold as they looked at her like filth.

No matter how she screamed, she wasn’t released.

The cell was bare stone, with only a crude toilet.

No bed, no warmth.

Her food was thin vegetable soup and stale black bread.

Days passed.

Her body grew filthy, her hair dull and greasy.

Then one day—

she heard a sound.

Looking up, she saw him.

Greil.

His blue eyes fixed on her.

She tried to speak—but no voice came out.

“Is it acceptable?”

“It’s been confirmed. That’s enough.”

The guards knelt before him.

His presence alone marked him as extraordinary.

And then—he left.

After that, she was moved.

Given proper food.

Allowed to bathe.

Soon after, Graham came and freed her.

But Renaria didn’t care about him.

“…He saved me…?”

A warmth spread in her heart.

No one else came.

But he did.

She wanted to see him again.

To obtain him—no matter what.

But no one would help her meet him.

Still—

Renaria remained convinced.

If she could just meet him again—

he would fall for her.

And in his jewel-like eyes—

only she would remain.

Lost in her delusion, she smiled darkly.

Unaware that the gears had already begun to slip—

and her downfall had begun.