The Villainess Wants To Retire-Chapter 374: TRAP

His voice cracked with a sudden, sharp surge of rage. "If you ever touch her again, if you even look at her with that pathetic, grasping longing, friendship be damned. I will end you. I will erase your name from the histories and turn your kingdom into a graveyard of ice. Do you understand me?"

Caelen let out a short, bitter laugh, a sound of pure, exhausted pain. "Friendship?" He met Soren’s eyes, his own gray irises finally clear of the black smudge of the ring. "Why are you pretending we’re still friends, Soren? The moment you decided to take her from me, our brotherhood was a lie."

Caelen glanced weakly at Eris, his expression a map of ruin. "You married my wife. You took the mother of my son and placed her on a throne beside you. And you ask about friendship?"

He didn’t wait for Soren to respond. He couldn’t. His body was failing him, the ice in his chest demanding all his remaining strength. He began to walk, a slow, painful shuffle past the Emperor. Each step was a battle against the paralysis creeping through his limbs. As he neared Eris, he stopped for one final second.

He looked at her, really looked at her, one last time. His eyes were full of a jagged, bleeding regret, a realization of the absolute finality of his loss. Eris didn’t soften; she glared at him, her silhouette framed by the protective shadow of Soren. She said nothing.

"I’m sorry," Caelen murmured, so quiet the wind nearly stole the words.

Too late, Eris thought, her heart hardening like forged steel.

Caelen turned away. He didn’t look back at the garden or the lovers standing in the ruins of the frost-flowers. He walked toward the guest wing, his mind a hollow chamber. This is it. The last time I try. I’ve lost her. Forever.

Soren watched him go, his hands still fisted at his sides. He knew the ice in Caelen’s chest was lethal.

He could feel the magic doing its work, slowly turning the man’s life-force to slush.

He should let it finish.

He should let the man die in a hallway, alone and cold. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

But as Caelen disappeared into the stone archway, Soren’s jaw tightened. With a sharp, reluctant flick of his wrist, he retracted the core of the magic.

The ice on Caelen’s chest stopped its advance. It didn’t recede, the pain would remain for days, a frozen brand upon his ribs, but it would no longer seek his heart.

Caelen felt the sudden relief of the pressure, but he didn’t turn. He didn’t thank the man who had spared him. He just kept walking.

Alone in the garden, the silence was heavy and cold. Eris turned to Soren, her hand still gripping his arm. He was still buzzing with a terrifying energy, his eyes glowing with that predatory sapphire light, his breathing heavy as if he were still in the heat of the duel.

She saw the way his hands shook, not with fear, but with the sheer effort of not hunting Caelen down and finishing the job. She should have been the one seeking comfort; she was the one who had been cornered, the one who had almost been violated by a dark compulsion. But looking at Soren, he looked like he was the one about to shatter.

"Soren, " she began, reaching for him.

He didn’t let her finish. He bent down and scooped her up in one fluid, powerful motion, carrying her bridal style. One arm was hooked firmly under her knees, the other pressed against her back, pulling her tight against the cold metal of his breastplate.

"Soren, I’m fine, " she protested, though she leaned into his chest instinctively.

"You’re not," he snapped, his jaw tight enough to crack bone. He started walking, his strides long and urgent as he headed back toward the Imperial wing.

"I can walk," she tried again, her voice gaining a bit of its usual fire.

"No."

"Soren, really, I’m okay now. The magic is gone."

"You are not okay!" Soren’s voice was rough, a raw explosion of the fear he had been suppressing. "He used dark magic on you, Eris. He touched you. You’re coming with me, and I’m not letting you out of my sight until I know that foulness is completely purged from your blood. Now be quiet."

Eris stopped protesting. She saw the pulse jumping in his neck, the way his eyes scanned every shadow in the corridor as they walked. She let him carry her.

She realized he needed this, needed to feel her weight in his arms, needed to play the protector to drown out the memory of finding her in another man’s grasp.

Across the palace, Caelen reached the guest chambers. He leaned against the heavy oak door, gasping for air, his chest feeling as if it had been hit by a battering ram. The ice Soren had left behind was a dull, throbbing ache, but as the adrenaline faded, a new sensation took its place.

The ring.

Still on his middle finger, the silver band suddenly began to glow, not with the dark, inviting light of before, but with a fierce, angry crimson. It grew hot. White-hot.

"Ah!" Caelen gasped, looking down. The metal was searing into his skin, the smell of burnt flesh rising in the quiet room. He grabbed at it, trying to wrench it off, but the ring wouldn’t budge. It was as if it had fused with his bone.

The pain didn’t stop at his hand. It exploded through his entire nervous system. The incomplete spell, the words left hanging in the air, was backlashing. Vetra had purposely omitted the cost of failure. The magic was a living thing, and it didn’t tolerate being denied its purpose.

It began to eat at him. Not quickly, like Soren’s ice, but with a slow, systematic cruelty. It began to drain his life-force to fuel its own stalled engine, a punishment for the man who was too "good" to be a monster. Caelen slumped to the floor, his vision swimming, realizing the full extent of the trap he had stepped into.

Vetra knew. She had known he would hesitate. And this was the price for his conscience.