The Cursed Beast Caught My Leash - Chapter 32

“Apparently, there was a transaction involving a certain tribute, but since it was conducted behind the scenes, I haven’t been able to uncover the details yet. If you give me more time…”

“No need, it’s obvious enough. The tribute was likely the princess herself.”

Perhaps, she never had a nanny to spoil her. A silent murmur lingered on Islay’s tongue.

He thought he had brought up a princess who had lived a pampered life, but now he had glimpsed the shadows that occasionally crossed her features. Her tendency to startle easily, avoid eye contact, and frequently gauge the moods of those around her—these might not have been traits she was born with.

Islay walked silently through the moonlit corridor, contemplating the current situation and the uncertain future Stella might face.

Could he obtain the ancient gem through her? Islay wasn’t sure. The search had been frustratingly unproductive, whether due to her inexperience in using the Mind’s Eye or because the gem simply wasn’t in the underground vault.

If this continued, Stella would have to leave the Ice Castle. He had promised to send her back after a certain period if the gem wasn’t found.

But would she be safe returning to Largo?

The King of Largo, who wasn’t even her biological father, had offered her up to Pantege, to a man like Prince Hendrick, infamous for his twisted tastes.

Islay suddenly felt a wave of self-derision.

Who was he to worry about someone else’s future? After all, by next winter, he would either turn into a loathsome beast or lose his life entirely.

He needed to gather his thoughts and make decisions soon. Time would pass in the blink of an eye—just like the fleeting moment under the starlit sky when he had gazed at her.

It would be wise to sort through these uncharacteristically complex thoughts as quickly as possible.

‘Or rather, it’s not so much thoughts…’

What had been troubling his mind recently was not just thoughts, but emotions.

His footsteps, echoing through the silent hallway, came to a halt. Islay blinked slowly, staring straight ahead.

Emotions. It was a strange realization. He couldn’t quite understand why he had labeled it as such.

After all, every change he had experienced since meeting her had seemed less like emotions and more like signs of his impending transformation into a monster.

Losing control of his reason, being drawn to the pulse fluttering near her delicate neck, his body’s erratic responses, and the abnormal quickening of his breath whenever he looked at her innocent face—all these symptoms resembled the behavior of a black beast eyeing its chosen prey, a trait inherited from his ancestors. They were not born of some futile emotion.

“My lord.”

It was then that the silence was broken by the steward of the Ice Castle, who approached like the wind.

“What is it?”

“The elders of Hegir have arrived at the castle. They should be reaching the audience chamber shortly.”

“…Of course, they have.”

Islay didn’t bother to hide his exasperation. The elders, with their minds seemingly consumed by nothing but securing a mate for their lord, were just about to intrude into the Ice Castle.

He quickened his pace toward the audience chamber.

For now, he had to set aside his ‘thoughts’ and deal with the elders.

***

“Great glory of Calis, we greet you, Peruno.”

“We greet you, Peruno.”

The voices, a mix of aged rasp and deep tones, echoed through the spacious chamber. Islay sat with his legs crossed on a grand chair that required ascending five steps to reach. His expression was indifferent as he leaned on one arm, looking down at the elders.

“Oh, protector of Calis and the shining eminence of the North, Peruno.”

The fragile voice, like smoke about to dissipate, was the last to speak. A fleeting chill passed over Islay’s otherwise emotionless face.

An elderly woman with a crooked nose stepped forward, leaning on her staff, and approached Islay by a few paces. She pulled back her hood, revealing clouded eyes filled with an almost ecstatic reverence as she gazed up at him.

“I am honored to be in your presence, my lord, the great ruler,” said Olena, the First Elder, bowing her stiff, wooden-like back. Her face, reminiscent of the witch from a children’s tale who lures and devours children, remained as unnerving as ever.

Islay glanced at her briefly before looking away.

“You’ve come a long way from Hegir. You’ve done well. Now, return to your quarters and rest,” he said, dismissing the formalities.

“But, my lord, the fate of the North grows more precarious by the day,” Olena persisted.

“Every time we think of the dwindling flame of Calis, we, the elders, find our hearts torn asunder, unable to sleep at night. Oh, exalted god of the North, this is a national disaster that demands immediate and urgent discussion.”

The title shifted from lord to god as swiftly as a bolt of lightning. All this talk of disaster and fate was, of course, aimed at Islay’s refusal to produce an heir.

“Even upon arriving at Elrod, you parrot the same refrain. It seems the elders have conveniently forgotten that we are in the midst of the Resting Festival,” Islay retorted, lifting one corner of his mouth in a blatant sneer.

This festival was, in essence, an annual event to pray for peace and happiness for the people of Calis. Yet here were the elders, far removed from the festival’s spirit, preaching like birds of ill omen. Islay’s remark was a direct jab at the hypocrisy of those who claimed to hold Calis’s culture in such high regard.

“My king,” came the voice of the Second Elder, Benoch, as he knelt on one knee.

Benoch was the only one among the five elders who had evolved into a higher form of Calisian, endowed with immense strength and vitality. Though called an elder, he had inherited the position early and was the only young man among them.

“There is something I wish to inquire about, if I may.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve heard that there is an esteemed guest in the Ice Castle.”

Islay slowly blinked, lowering his eyes.

These elders had held power in Calis for nearly a thousand years. Even though Islay had exiled them to Hegir, it was unlikely that all their informants within the Ice Castle had vanished.

“They say she possesses the Mind’s Eye. Is it true that you brought her here from the central continent?”

“And is it also true that Your Highness is still searching for that ancient gem…?” Olena, who had been watching Islay with worshipful eyes, furrowed her wrinkled brows. The elders, who believed in nothing but Peruno, were highly skeptical of the prophecy.

“Though it is indeed a national catastrophe that such a strong and beautiful body would turn into a black beast… isn’t there a priority higher than seeking a gem whose whereabouts are unknown?”

“I understand the elders’ concerns about the fate of Calis,” Islay interrupted her. The Second Elder, still youthful, flinched.

“I, too, will continue to deliberate day and night. But for now, this greeting has gone on long enough. You should return to your quarters for the evening.”

Though his lips curled slightly, Islay’s crimson eyes betrayed no warmth.

The five elders exchanged glances. Olena readjusted her grip on her staff and bowed, signaling the end of the audience.

“Bestow your blessing upon us.”

“Bestow your blessing upon us.”

With their final words, as always urging Islay to continue the lineage of Peruno, the elders retreated.

The large doors of the audience chamber closed with a heavy thud. Islay felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him, and he ran a hand over his face. It felt as if every nerve in his body was pulled taut.

06. The Prophecy

It was a sunny afternoon, with clear skies and sunlight streaming down. Stella sat at the table by the window, her eyes half-closed like a sleepy cat, gazing outside. The Ice Castle was still brimming with the festive atmosphere. From the inner courtyard to the city beyond the castle walls, the entire area was steeped in a lively, jubilant mood.

Stella had been told that this was one of the few significant holidays in Calis, but she hadn’t expected the excitement to last this long, enveloping the entire city. She didn’t mind it, though. Watching the people in white clothing running around in the main square brought a smile to her face.

During the Resting Festival, there was a tradition that any burdensome tasks could be set aside for a while. What surprised her even more was that this tradition applied to her as well. Mikel had delivered Islay’s order that she didn’t need to visit the underground vault for a while and should take some rest.

The thought of not having to descend into the gem vault for two whole weeks felt like receiving a worker’s first holiday. She found herself pondering this with a vague sense of relief.

However, this didn’t mean she could simply go out and explore with excitement. It felt awkward to adhere strictly to Islay’s words about always accompanying her during outings, so Stella spent several days sitting idly in her room. Being confined to a limited space was something she was all too familiar with—it was almost second nature to her.

“Yawn…” Dora, sitting across from her, covered her mouth as she let out a big yawn. Stella, who had been watching through the glass window, turned her gaze back to her. The maid’s round eyes were teary from the intensity of her yawn.

Stella smiled gently. “Dora, are you getting bored just staying in the bedroom?”