Chapter 93

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 93

Chapter Title: The Magic Tower Lord's Intrusion

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“……”

It was a profoundly unsettling feeling.

Just as he was about to lick her blood, Arpad opened his eyes in that hazy border between dream and reality—and even then, this thought crossed his mind.

‘What a shame.’

That he hadn’t been able to taste it properly.

‘…This is truly a strange and horrific thought.’

Arpad briefly wondered if his own mania had manifested in such a twisted direction.

Another worry crept in.

‘If she knew about this, Hilia—who’s already so suspicious—might try to bolt.’

She was sensitive, with sharp instincts.

She might even pick up on it just from his reaction.

Because of this unease, Arpad lingered in his office far longer than usual, well past the time he would normally head to the Ivory Bedroom.

At that moment, an alien prickling stabbed at one corner of Arpad’s keen senses.

“!”

An intruder.

And in the direction of the Ivory Bedroom, where Hilia was.

Arpad burst through the door in shock and sprinted at full tilt.

‘Hilia!!!’

‘…He’s late.’

I quickly shook my head to dismiss the thought.

‘No, that makes it sound like I’m waiting for Arpad!’

I was simply sitting in my room.

‘More precisely, feeling embarrassed.’

I couldn’t bring myself to explain to Annie or Yulken why I was so flustered.

They’d see Arpad doting on me hand and foot as perfectly natural.

After all, we were officially husband and wife.

Sharing the same bed every single night.

They’d think it odd if they saw me acting all coy now.

I cooled my burning cheeks against the back of my hand and muttered under my breath.

“If I’d known it’d be like this, I should’ve told him to go easy.”

Suddenly, the thought hit me—what would Arpad think if he walked in and saw my flushed face?

He was sharp; he might figure it all out.

I pulled a single glass bird from the decorative cabinet in the wall.

The toy I’d used for wind sound effects at the last banquet.

I whispered the activation word, and its tiny wings fluttered, sending a delightful breeze tickling across my face.

‘Right. Act like nothing happened. He pretended not to notice too, didn’t he?’

I’d just barely steadied my nerves when something went wrong with the glass bird toy.

Crackle!

A tiny spark popped out, and the toy stuttered. The breeze cut off, then started again, repeating the glitch a few times.

“!”

Small as it was, it startled me into high alert.

‘This happens when powerful magic or a magic artifact is nearby!’

A rare malfunction, but I knew it from the countless ordeals of my past life.

I shot to my feet, scanning the room, and shouted in a tense voice.

“Who’s there!”

“…Hoo? How did you know I was here? So, you do have something special about you?”

A voice from behind me sent chills racing across my skin, every hair standing on end.

It wasn’t Arpad’s voice.

But it was familiar.

The last voice I wanted to hear in this moment.

I whipped around in horror.

There stood a man, as if he’d melted out of the shadows themselves.

His black hood was pulled low, revealing only his mouth and chin below the nose.

I knew the true face hidden beneath that hood.

I clamped a hand over my mouth to stifle the scream of his name.

‘Magic Tower Lord Gaspar!’

Terror slithered up my spine like a snake.

“Please, please stop! It hurts too much!”

My despair and agony had only fueled his curiosity and delight.

Memories of Magic Tower Lord Gaspar were from near the end of my third life.

They felt anything but distant; my body locked up like a mouse before a serpent.

Gaspar stared at me intently before slowly advancing.

He reached out a finger etched with dense, intricate red runes toward my chin.

“So you’re that famous Crown Princess blessed by the dragon……”

“……”

He cocked his head from side to side.

“Your magic power in size and quality doesn’t seem all that different from an ordinary person’s.”

The razor-sharp tip of his nail brushed my chin.

“If there’s truly something special, a dissection would reveal it……”

No one knew better than I did that this was no joke.

“I was curious if the rumors were true. I hadn’t planned on being spotted, but since it’s come to this, I might as well verify.”

Goosebumps erupted across my skin.

“Dragon’s Bride. No epithet suits you better.”

The man who’d made me realize what I truly was.

And the enemy who’d inflicted one of the most nightmarish ordeals across my three regressions.

Barring Evangeline and Ludwig, if I had to name the one I loathed most—it was Gaspar.

This man, the embodiment of my fear and hatred, who’d tormented my body relentlessly.

I couldn’t afford to freeze before him.

‘Get it together, Hilia!’

The taste of blood filled my mouth.

I couldn’t afford to lose focus.

The sharp sting slowly restored my wits.

In that instant, I slapped away Gaspar’s hand—hovering just shy of my chin—with a sharp smack.

“!”

A glint of intrigue flashed in Gaspar’s eyes.

“You were clearly terrified of me a moment ago, yet you switched in an instant. Like a completely different person? Fascinating.”

I forced down my primal terror, swallowing it whole.

Stilling my tremors, I kindled my rage.

My voice, laced with steel, rang through the bedroom.

“Mind your manners, mage.”

“How do you know I’m a mage?”

“Who else but a mage could pop out of a wall like that?”

I knew his identity, but I wasn’t about to tip my hand.

The corners of Gaspar’s mouth, visible beneath the hood, curved into a wicked arc.

His disagreeable laugh pierced my ears.

“You’ve got guts. Most noble ladies freeze solid in terror the moment they stand before me.”

Of course they would. Who wouldn’t fear a twisted psycho like you?

“I’m not your typical noble lady.”

“True enough. You’re the exalted Crown Princess blessed by the great dragon, after all……”

He thrust his head forward like a striking serpent.

“So, is it true? Real?”

“……”

“Did you really meet the dragon in person? Were you chosen? Huh? What was it like? What did it look like? Transformed form? Or its true body? If true body, how big? What about the scales and claws? How did it communicate? Tell me. Now. Now!”

Madness clotted thickly in his torrent of questions.

“Spit it out! I could rip your body to shreds right now and confirm the rumors myself!”

His icy glare flipped back his hood.

The man’s face was laid bare.

Surprisingly refined. Long silver hair neatly bound, pale green eyes evoking fresh spring sprouts.

Save for the red tattoo twisting grotesquely around his left eye, a mark of his insanity.

I bit my lip and forced a smile.

Scraping together composure from thin air, I shot back.

“Why should I?”

“…?”

Gaspar’s head cocked at an unnatural angle.

“Didn’t you hear me?”

“Oh, I heard you loud and clear.”

I’d momentarily forgotten my precarious position.

I was balanced on a knife’s edge.

Utterly vulnerable and unstable.

This wasn’t the time for idle, luxurious frets over a little embarrassment from someone glimpsing my body.

I uttered words Gaspar couldn’t simply dismiss.

“Neither Evangeline nor the Empress can give you what you want.”

“…?”

The smirk on Gaspar’s lips evaporated.

“Why bring up the Empress or Evangeline?”

I ignored his retort and pressed on.

“You can’t be satisfied with diluted royal blood like Ludwig’s, can you?”

The genius mage Gaspar was obsessed with dragons.

The only things that could move him were dragon-related intel—or a live test subject.

“…You truly know what I desire?”

“You were just ranting about dragons a second ago. Only a fool wouldn’t get it.”

In truth, I’d learned it bone-deep over months of his experiments in my past life—but I wasn’t about to admit that.

And then I dangled the ultimate bait.

“Don’t you crave a fresh, living body of royalty bearing a true dragon bloodline?”

“…!”

The smug, manic grin drained from Gaspar’s face.

In my past life, I’d heard it countless times.

Staring at the imperfect monstrosity crafted from Arpad’s corpse, his mutterings.

“Ahh. This bloodline’s purity is nearly half-human, half-dragon.”

“If only I’d gotten my hands on flesh still warm and alive…”

“Then I could have recreated that beautiful, perfect race with my own hands……”

Right now, he was genuinely rattled.

Of course—pinpointing his deepest craving like that would shock anyone.

Wearing a leisurely, infuriating smile, I continued.

“Next time, come calling properly—with fitting compensation.”

Gaspar paused for a beat, then an admiring smile bloomed across his face.