The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 316: The Groom’s Torment

SOREN

I hadn’t slept.

The darkness of my chambers had offered no sanctuary, only a canvas for the images that had been seared into my mind since the previous night. Every time I closed my eyes, the garden returned... the silver filigree of the arches, the diamond-dust paths, and the three of them.

Eris. Caelen. Rael.

They had looked like a portrait of a life I could never give her. A perfect, painful circle of shared history and common blood. From my vantage point at the high window, I hadn’t been able to hear their words, but I hadn’t needed to.

I had seen the way Caelen reached for her, the desperate, physical hunger of a man trying to reclaim a world he had foolishly discarded.

And I had seen Eris... my Eris... lift the boy into her arms with a tenderness that made my own chest ache with a dull, hollow thud.

I had followed them. I shouldn’t have, but the ice in my veins had felt like it was boiling. I had stood in the deep shadows of the colonnade, a ghost in my own palace, watching them.

I saw Caelen pull her to him, his head bowed against her, and for a moment, the world had gone white with my rage. I wanted to storm in. I wanted to tear him away from her, to remind him that she was mine now, by law and by choice.

But I didn’t.

Because I loved her. And love, in its cruelest form, is knowing when to let someone be free. If she chose him... if she walked away from the altar today to return to the sun... I would let her go. I would destroy myself to ensure her happiness, even if that happiness was a sword in my side.

The click of the door latch felt like a gavel striking.

Aldric entered, his arms laden with the heavy, ceremonial silks of the Imperial house. He stopped mid-step, his eyes tracking over my disheveled state... the way I was still slumped in the chair by the window, my hair a mess, my eyes rimmed with red.

"You look like hell, Your Imperial Majesty," he remarked, his voice devoid of its usual caustic edge.

"Thank you," I muttered, rubbing my face.

Aldric set the garments on the bed and studied me. "You didn’t sleep."

"No."

"Are you going to tell me why, or do I have to guess?" He crossed his arms, waiting.

I stayed silent, staring at the floor.

"She’s still angry about your question," Aldric said, his voice softening into something almost respectful. I had told him about my foolish blunder at the memorial.

"I know," I replied. "I asked if she was sure. I needed to know, Aldric. I couldn’t let her walk into this marriage feeling like she was just swapping one cage for another."

Aldric let out a long, weary sigh. "Respectfully your Majesty, you’re good at sabotaging your progress with her."

"I’m aware."

A long pause stretched between us, filled only by the distant, rhythmic tolling of the wedding bells. "What if she says no?" I whispered, the words tasting like ash.

***

Aldric left to fetch the priestesses, leaving me alone with the silence.

It was then that the composure finally fractured. I sat on the edge of the bed, my head dropping into my hands, my shoulders shaking with a silent, jagged breath.

The fear was crushing. It was a physical weight, a mountain of ice pressing down on my lungs. She had looked so right with them.

Like a piece of a puzzle finally clicking into place. What if I was the intruder? What if my love was nothing more than a secondary trap?

A soft, heavy weight settled on my knee.

I looked down. Bjorn, usually a whirlwind of chaos and fur, had padded over. He didn’t nudge me for food or bark at the curtains. He simply rested his massive, snowy head on my leg, his large eyes fixed on mine with an uncanny, silent understanding.

I reached out, my fingers trembling as I buried them in the thick fur of his neck. "If she doesn’t come," I whispered, "you’ll still have me, right?"

The wolf let out a low, huffing breath, his tail thumping once against the stone.

"Yeah," I smiled faintly, though it felt like a break in the ice. "I know. It’s not the same."

The dressing ritual was an exercise in mechanical endurance.

My attendants returned, draping me in the formal regalia of the North... ice-blue silks and heavy, silver-embroidered velvet. The clothing was weighted, designed to make an Emperor look immovable, like the mountains themselves.

They placed the crown on my head... a jagged circlet of frozen silver, shaped like antlers and encrusted with raw frost-diamonds.

People swirled around me, their faces bright with excitement. They joked about the feast; they whispered about the beauty of the Temple. I smiled when the protocol demanded it. I responded when prompted. But inside, I was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the wind to push me over.

Aldric returned, carrying a small, velvet-covered box. He opened it to reveal the gift I had spent the last hours crafting in the private forge. After breaking it countless times in my distraction, my magic fluctuating with my moods, now it was perfect.

"It’s beautiful," Aldric said quietly.

"It’s not enough," I replied. "Nothing could be."

The door opened again, and Ryse stepped in, looking stiff and formal in his commander’s uniform. "The cathedral is ready, Your Majesty. The guests are arriving. The ambassadors from Solmire have taken their seats."

I adjusted my cuffs, my heart pounding so hard I feared it would crack my ribs. "And... Lady Eris?"

Ryse paused, a flicker of something... awe, perhaps... crossing his face. "She is being prepared. I’m told by the maids that she is... stunning, Sire."

"Of course she is," I said, my voice barely a breath.

I stood before the mirror, fully dressed, the Emperor of the North in all his cold, glittering glory. I looked powerful. I looked ready. But as I stared at my own reflection, a thought bloomed, dark and tempting.

I could call it off.

Right now. I could walk out those doors, make a formal announcement, and give her an escape. I could let her go back to the warmth of the South, back to the son who loved her and the man who, despite his flaws, shared her history. I could let her be happy, even if it meant I would spend the rest of my life in a palace that felt like a tomb.

I reached for the door handle, my jaw tight, the words forming in my throat. I was ready to destroy my reign for her peace.