The End of Your Arrogance - Chapter 72

Ilya extended his hand towards the nightstand beside the bed, retrieving a bowl of medicine. Bringing it to his lips, he cradled Evelyn’s neck with one hand, gently parting her lips with the other.

Their lips met without hesitation, the bitterness of the medicine flowing between their parted lips. Evelyn’s limp body twitched, prompting Ilya to press deeper to prevent her from spitting out the remedy. With a gulp, he observed her swallow the medicine, and he reluctantly parted their lips.

Evelyn’s head rested on his shoulder as he pulled her closer, allowing her to lean against him. In a soft, tired voice, he whispered, stroking her sweat-soaked hair, “Do not hurt.”

Ilya drifted into a light sleep, cradling his wife in his arms, only to be awakened by a voice questioning the absence of his mother.

“Mom, isn’t she coming?”

“Master, right now…”

“Mom, get up.”

A loud cry resonated outside the door, accompanied by the comforting sounds of Arthas and Belina consoling their child. Ilya, now fully awake, felt a sense of concern. Normally, he would have instructed them to send the child away, but the words exchanged with his wife the previous night echoed in his mind.

“Okay, kid. There are still issues between us that need to be resolved.”

With a determined decision, Ilya called out, “Bring them in.”

As the door opened, Sophie entered the room with an embarrassed expression. Ilya frowned as he noticed Libe hiding behind the hem of her skirt, only his face peeking out.

Sophie addressed Ilya, “Your Majesty, I apologize. He doesn’t usually wake up early in the morning…”

“Mom!”

As Libe caught a glimpse of Evelyn behind Sophie, he impulsively pushed Sophie aside and darted out of the room. In an instant, Libe arrived at the bedside, placing both hands on the bed. The child burst into tears upon finding Ilya, a stranger to him, holding his mother.

After a moment, Libe shot a menacing glare at Ilya, placing one leg on the bed. Despite his attempts to climb onto the bed, it proved too challenging. Ilya sat on the bed, observing the child’s struggles.

“Hmm, Libe?” Ilya inquired, prompting the child to call out for her mother.

“Mom!”

Evelyn weakly opened her eyes upon hearing her son’s voice and stretched out her arms to him. Ilya frowned at her trembling arms.

“Anyone can see how many years we’ve been apart,” he remarked to Sophie, who stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do.

“Bring water,” Ilya instructed Sophie.

Quickly complying, Sophie brought a glass of warm water. Encountering the familiar face, Libe, full of courage, jumped up again.

“Master, if you run like that, you’ll get hurt,” Sophie warned.

Before Sophie could react, Ilya got off the bed, wrapped his arms around the child’s waist, and lifted him, with Libe hanging by his side. Sophie exclaimed, realizing the lack of consideration for the child’s safety.

“Your Highness, such an attitude is dangerous,” she warned, though Libe clung on with a relaxed expression, showcasing impressive athletic ability. Ilya looked down at Libe with an unreadable expression.

Evelyn, sipping water from Sophie, smiled slightly. After finishing her glass, she extended her arms towards her child.

“There, there.”

Despite Libe’s struggles, Ilya shook his head and gently set him down on the bed. Evelyn embraced her son, whom she hadn’t seen in half a day.

“Just leave now,” Ilya declared, his tone reflecting a sense of finality.

Sophie, casting anxious glances at Libe, breathed a sigh of relief as she quietly exited the room, leaving only three men behind. An awkward silence settled in the room, broken only by the characteristic short-tongued sound of the child.

“Mom, let’s play,” Libe piped up, poking his head out from Evelyn’s embrace. Evelyn, lacking the energy to speak, simply patted her child on the back. As Libe continued to whine, Ilya intervened.

“Your mom is sick. Sleep quietly, little one.”

Surprised, Evelyn looked at Ilya, who shrugged as if questioning what the issue was.

“Mom, mom.”

When LIbe whined again, Ilya muttered in a firm voice, “I told you to sleep quietly.” Despite the crying, LIbe eventually settled down next to Evelyn. With Evelyn comforting him, Libe drifted off to sleep. Ilya, hugging her tightly, observed her closely, realizing the eerie resemblance between mother and child.

“The resemblance is truly eerie,” he remarked. LIbe frowned and nodded, astonishingly, to Ilya, who hadn’t expected the child to understand even in sleep.

“But you’re luckier than me. You met a good mother.”

At the mention of ‘mother’, Libe giggled. Ilya, taken aback, playfully poked the child’s cheek with his finger. At that moment, Libe’s small, chubby hand wrapped around Ilya’s finger and squeezed it. However, as if trying to conceal the moment, Libe quickly withdrew his hand and resumed even breathing.

Ilya, standing there for a while as if rooted to the spot, abruptly left the bedroom, almost as if he were fleeing.

Evelyn drifted in and out of consciousness for several days, battling simple body aches that made it difficult to get up. Illya worked tirelessly during the day and visited the outbuildings late at night. Upon his arrival, Evelyn had usually taken her medicine and was fast asleep. Sitting on a small chair by the head of her bed, Ilya stared at his wife’s slumbering form, a silent vigil in the quiet hours of the night.

There was a subtle shift in Illya’s attitude toward Libe. Although Ilya never actively sought out Libe, there were moments when, finding the child asleep in her mother’s arms, he would simply watch.

Today was no exception. After observing the tender scene of mother and son embracing in sleep, he returned to his office and indulged in a solitary drink. Thoughts of Evelyn weighed heavily on him, and when coupled with the presence of their child, his head throbbed as if splitting open.

Suddenly, Ilya lifted his head at the sound of something blunt hitting a surface. Outside the window, bright yellow eyes peered into the room.

“Your Majesty, what an eagle…”

“I’ll see if it needs to see me. I’ll open it.”

Ilya halted the guard, attempting to rush to the window. Slowly, he walked over and opened the large window. Without warning, a majestic eagle gracefully flew into the office. Landing in the center of the room, the eagle fixed its gaze on Ilya and spoke.

“Big human, I have something to say.”

Already suffering from a headache, Ilya touched his temple as his head pounded. He gestured for the guard knight in his office to leave.

“Hmph, you’re a person who can communicate.”

“So, what do you have to say?”

The eagle soared over the large desk, its bright yellow eyes focused on Ilya. It spoke, raising its voice.

“Human, we’re barely holding on. Don’t shake it anymore.”

If the eagle referred to a human, it must be talking about his wife, Evelyn. Ilya chuckled, finding it amusing that even a beast seemed to hold itself responsible.

“How do I shake Evelyn?”

“Why are you interested in young humans? You can’t even take responsibility.”

Ilya felt a momentary surge of anger at the words spoken by a creature. He couldn’t comprehend why he was so affected by the utterances of an animal.

“I promised Evelyn. I will protect you both while you stay here.”

Bright yellow eyes locked onto Ilya, and he reciprocated with a stern glare at the eagle.

At that moment, Illya couldn’t believe her eyes as the eagle’s black feathers stood up one by one. It was a peculiar sight as if the eagle was alone in another world. Ilya drew his sword, fixing a sharp gaze on the eagle.

“What on earth are you? It’s not just familiar, is it?” he questioned.

Bright yellow eyes laughed at Ilya. “Grand Duke of Ajauntice.”

A dry, unfamiliar voice sent goosebumps down Ilya’s spine. The eagle, acting like a mind reader, continued to reveal the hidden truths.

“When a young human was born, you thought your position was threatened. Am I wrong?”

Ilya’s face twisted into a demonic expression. The eagle removed the mask it had been wearing in front of the magical beast, exposing its true identity.

“Who would like a child who threatens his father’s life as soon as he is born?” Ilya lamented theatrically. He continued to speak, locking eyes with the eagle.

“A child with Maduse’s blood was finally born. His older brother feared for his life at that time. What do you think you would do if you were Marquis Maduse?”

The eagle glared at Ilya and questioned, “Are you saying that it was because of the young humans who were betrayed in Tatar?”

“That may not be everything, but it must have been quite a motivator,” Ilya admitted, revealing the source of the discomfort he felt every time he saw his child. It was something he couldn’t bring himself to share with his wife.

“Do you think it wouldn’t have happened if you two hadn’t had a child?”

There was only one answer Ilya could give. The Black Forest knights might not have perished in the bloodshed at Tartar’s Canyon, but even he was uncertain about the consequences.

The feelings he harbored for his child differed from those for his wife.

“You will lose both your wife and your son. Just like the great princes of Azantis have done so far,” the eagle’s voice became chillingly low. Ilya snorted and retorted.

“There was no such thing as a family from the beginning.”

Once again, Ilya struggled to confidently assert that he never had a family from the beginning, questioning how something nonexistent could vanish. The image of a woman with a bright smile, proclaiming, “We are family now,” flashed before him. In his memories, she appeared much younger and happier than in her current state. The woman who once smiled like that was now a pale figure lying on a bed, breathing heavily.

Running his hand down the exact center of his chest, Ilya felt a tingling sensation in his solar plexus. The eagle’s feathers, which had been floating in the air one by one, returned to their original state. A fair voice emanated from the bright yellow beak.

“Useless expectations are poison.”

Having accomplished its purpose, the eagle flew out the window without a backward glance. Ilya approached the window to collect his thoughts, feeling the night wind tickle his face.

Despite the words of the eagle and others, he planned to search for a separate house the following night. There were unresolved issues between himself and himself that needed attention. After solidifying his decision, a sense of ease washed over Ilya.

Closing the window, he returned to his desk to handle the remaining work. Seeing his wife had been a brief respite; now, it was time to focus on the tasks at hand.