𝐈'𝐦 𝐚𝐧 𝐄𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐝𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥 (𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐃)

Chapter 65: Corrosive Corruption

The morning air was crisp and biting as I stood by the stone railing of the central palace balcony. My fingers, though wrapped in fine lace gloves, felt like ice against the cold marble.

Beside me stood Arsen, his stature tall and imposing, his presence a silent anchor in the swirling storm of my mind.

Down in the cobblestone courtyard below, the heavy wooden carriage that would transport the disgraced former Duke, Constantine, and his loyal companion, Phoebe, to the barren northern border lands was being loaded.

A small contingent of imperial knights moved with efficient, joyless precision, tying down supplies and securing the perimeter.

Behind them stood a somber palace physician, adjusting his medical satchel as he prepared to mount a horse. He had been ordered to follow along on the grueling journey because Phoebe was currently pregnant—carrying a child whose life was beginning just as its parents' worlds were ending.

My gaze tracked Phoebe as she stepped out into the courtyard. The once lovely woman looked frail, wrapped in a simple, unadorned traveling cloak that did not quite hide the slight swell of her stomach. Yet, her attention was entirely focused on the man beside her.

Constantine looked awful. The ruthless, calculating mastermind had vanished, replaced by a shattered shell of a man.

His hair was matted, his clothes disheveled, and his eyes darted wildly around the courtyard, trapped in the invisible cage of his own fracturing mind. The madness was consuming him rapidly.

He flinched at the sound of a horse's whinny, mumbling incoherent, paranoid words to the empty air, but Phoebe was remarkably gentle with him.

She didn't shrink back from his trembling or look at him with disgust. Instead, she softly placed her hands on his cheeks, whispering soothing words that I couldn't hear from the balcony, smoothing down his unkempt hair until his panicked breathing began to slow.

Watching the scene unfold, I felt a strange, suffocating sensation tighten in my chest. I couldn't quite describe my feelings.

It wasn't a pity—I felt no remorse for taking revenge. They had earned this desolation. But seeing the profound sincerity in the way Phoebe shielded the madman, I felt a hollow ache that defied explanation.

Arsen shifted slightly beside me, his ruby eyes fixed on me. Without a word, he reached out, placing his warm, gloved hand over mine on the railing.

I looked down at our joined hands, then back at the carriage as the heavy iron doors slammed shut, locking the two exiles inside. The horses stamped their hooves, and the caravan began its slow, heavy march toward the barren lands.

The slow, rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels faded into the distance, leaving the courtyard below eerie and quiet. The heavy dust kicked up by the horses settled back onto the cobblestones, erasing the last physical traces of Constantine and Phoebe from the capital.

The dust of vengeance settled, thick and suffocating, leaving me staring at the hollow victory I had bled for. The fiery consuming purpose that had driven me for so long vanished, replaced by a chilling emptiness, because I realized that the ruin of my enemies couldn't resurrect what I had lost, leaving me with nothing but an aching void.

I remained frozen at the balcony railing, gaze fixed on the empty iron gates. Though the morning sun was rising, its light offered no warmth to me. My jaw remained tight, shoulders locked in the rigid posture of a ruler who had won the battle but lost a piece of her humanity in the process.

"Are you happy, Calypso?" Arsen asked softly, his voice carrying no judgment, only a deep, protective concern.

"Ask me again later, Arsen," I murmured, voice barely louder than the morning breeze. I turned my head to meet him. "Ask me again when I can finally say yes."

He watched me in silence for a moment, seemingly aware of the heavy burden pulling at my posture. Step by step, he closed the small distance between us. He didn't offer empty, platitudinous words about justice or peace; he knew better than anyone that vengeance left a bitter aftertaste.

He had warned me, didn't he? Though I never listened.

Suddenly, Arsen stepped up directly behind me. He wrapped his strong arms around my waist, drawing me back against his broad chest. He buried his face into the crook of my neck, letting me feel the steady, reassuring warmth of his breath against my skin. His embrace was tight, unyielding, and completely safe—a stark contrast to the cold, hostile world I had been fighting against.

"You don't need to carry every burden in this world, Calypso," he whispered against my skin, his hands locking over my abdomen. "The gates are closed. They are gone."

At his touch, a tremor ran through my rigid frame. The icy facade I had maintained throughout the entire confrontation began to show microscopic cracks. I let my head fall back against his shoulder, finally allowing my muscles to relax, if only a fraction.

"I thought watching them leave in ruin would feel like a victory," I confessed, voice dropping to a low, raw murmur. "But honestly, the outcome felt hollow, lacking the relief I had anticipated during long, sleepless nights."

Arsen tightened his grip, pulling me even closer, as if physically anchoring me to the present reality.

"You kept asking me if you'd become a monster," I said softly. "But I think I was the one who became a monster."

He turned me gently in his arms until I was forced to look into his deep, unwavering eyes.

"You are not a monster," Arsen said, his voice ringing with absolute certainty. He raised a hand, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear that I hadn't even realized had escaped my eye. "You're the one who told me, remember? A monster feels nothing. A monster doesn't look out at a broken enemy and feel a heavy heart. You did what you had to do to protect our future. To protect us."

He brought his forehead down to rest against mine, his breath mingling with mine in the crisp morning air.

"I told you before, didn't I? If you have to walk through hell to find peace, then I am walking right beside you," he promised softly, his gaze locking onto hers with a fierce, protective devotion. "Your burden is my burden. If you sink, we sink together. But we won't. We will build something beautiful out of these ashes. I will make sure of it."

For the first time that morning, the suffocating tension in my chest loosened. I reached up, clutching the fabric of his imperial tunic, burying my face into his chest as his warmth finally began to melt the winter ice in my soul.

***

Author's Note:

I think Calypso is having internal turmoil here. It's the path she has chosen herself, but it doesn't mean it will leave her unscathed. I think one of the messages I wanted to convey through this story is that revenge always bled both ways.

But what do you guys think? Please let me know.