The Princess’s Final Wish Before Her Time Runs Out - Chapter 67

Though his golden eyes burned with intensity, Rashid’s gaze radiated an eerie chill, felt only by Count Clu.

“Was there ever anyone who didn’t know? That I wanted to place Tericia’s name beside mine—that I wanted her by my side?”

His voice was laced with a low, dangerous amusement. It was calm, but sharp enough to cut through the still air. No one in the room could ignore it.

“And now you say she’s to be listed as my elder sister? Absurd. Do you even know what kind of agreement I made with Father?”

“……”

Count Clu gaped like a fish, utterly speechless as he stared at Rashid.

“Two years—no, perhaps just one left now.”

Rashid’s cold gaze shifted from the Count, sweeping across the entire ballroom. Then it settled on Lady Tericia—and in that moment, the sharpness in his eyes softened into warmth.

The smile that touched his lips was so gentle, it made everything feel like a staged play—unreal and far removed from the tension in the room.

“Tericia.”

He stepped toward her slowly.

Then, without looking away for even a second, Rashid took her hand and lifted it to his lips, pressing a long, deliberate kiss to her hand.

“One year from now—if I’ve won your heart—your name will be entered into the temple registry as my wife. But if you continue to refuse me… then it will go in as my elder sister.”

“……”

“But that will never happen. Because I will never give you up.”

He looked at her with a radiant smile—one that shut out the entire world. In his eyes, there was only her.

Whatever anyone else believed, whatever falsehoods or manipulations had brought them here, Rashid now spoke with only truth.

“You’ll live as a member of House Hespelt. Just as my father permitted—just as it was from the very beginning—you belong to this house. Not as a nominal daughter who might vanish tomorrow, but as my woman.”

Lady Tericia stood frozen, pale as snow.

It was a lie.

She felt it instinctively—Rashid was lying to protect her.

There had never been an agreement like that with the former Duke. Lady Boren, her mother, would never have agreed to it. Her goals had always been something else…

“That’s a lie! The Duke—Lady Boren—she never would have allowed that!”

The scream burst out of Count Clu, still trembling on the floor. He couldn’t even stand, yet he roared at Rashid in protest.

“Uncle. Do you really not understand what Lady Boren was like?”

Rashid let out a short, sharp laugh.

“She was an ambitious woman. You think she’d say no to a chance at more power? To making her daughter the future Duchess? She’d never have refused.”

“And just as your father—the old Duke—granted you excessive titles and land as his second son, my father was willing to grant me one wish. You benefited the most from that legacy. And now you turn around and behave like this?”

Rashid crouched down on one knee, locking eyes with the Count.

“You forget what you’ve received, and all you remember is what you didn’t get.”

With a swift motion, he gripped the Count’s head.

The older man flailed, trying to pry Rashid’s hand away, but it didn’t budge an inch.

“Do you really think you still need this head?”

The strength in Rashid’s hand was terrifying—enough to make Clu’s eyes bulge and his face turn red with pressure. He let out a garbled, helpless moan—unable even to scream properly.

A few more seconds, and his skull would’ve shattered. He would have died a gruesome death, right there on the ballroom floor.

Shock and horror rippled through the room.

“Rashid!”

The first voice to break the tension was the Crown Prince’s.

But Rashid didn’t react, as if the voice hadn’t reached him.

He wouldn’t actually kill him… would he? Even with the Crown Prince here?

Nobles around the room paled. Several noblewomen fainted. Some dropped to the floor, trembling uncontrollably.

“Rashid, what are you doing?!”

The Crown Prince’s voice rang out again—now tinged with urgency and desperation.

He wouldn’t… but if he does…

Finally, Rashid let go of the Count’s head—but not his life.

As if just remembering something, he murmured softly.

“I failed to show you dignity, Uncle. As a noble, you deserve to face the end with some grace.”

He extended a hand, and Heinz, standing silently nearby, drew his sword and passed it to him without hesitation.

Rashid stood and unsheathed the blade.

Shing. The steel hissed as it was drawn.

Screams erupted—but not even panic could rise above the oppressive weight of his killing intent.

Rashid held the blade firmly, his expression unreadable.

And for a moment—it truly looked like he would strike.

“Rashid!”

Tericia’s voice cut through everything like a lightning bolt.

For a second, nothing else had reached him. But her voice—her voice snapped him out of it. His reason returned.

Only now did he realize how far he’d fallen into the haze of bloodlust.

His eyes turned to her.

A cold silence settled between them.

She stood there, trembling. Her knuckles white from clutching her dress. Her eyes glistening with tears she refused to shed.

She opened her mouth a few times—faltering—before finally forcing the words out:

“Stop… please, stop…”

She met his eyes, just for a moment. She was afraid the tears would fall. All her strength was focused on staying upright—on not collapsing.

Not like this…

And in that moment, Tericia knew:

She had to leave.

It was the only way to stop him.

She clenched her fists, gathered her strength, and turned away from him.

She began to walk—away from Rashid.

She didn’t run. She didn’t cry.

Back straight, steps firm, she walked on—without looking back.

Without seeing the weight of Rashid’s gaze burning into her back.

Without breaking—until the very end.

Just before Tericia stepped out of the ballroom, her pace quickened—until, in the blink of an eye, she vanished from Rashid’s sight.

The Crown Prince, watching Rashid stare blankly in the direction she had gone, clicked his tongue quietly and then ran out after her.

Silence swallowed the hall.

Murderous intent, shock, and pity hung heavy in the air—so thick that no one dared to move.

Clang.
The sharp sound of a sword hitting the floor shattered the stillness.

Then Rashid spoke.

“Heinz.”

“Take this man to the underground prison.”

“Yes, Your Grace!”

“Adler.”

“Yes, Duke.”

“End the banquet.”

Rashid gave the command without ever looking away from the direction Tericia had fled.

Now that he had said all he needed to in front of the Crown Prince, the truth no longer mattered. Whether her name was on the registry or not—it made no difference.

If it wasn’t, so much the better.

The only thing that mattered now… was bringing her back.

Rashid turned and strode out, his long strides chasing after Tericia.

Outside the ballroom, Tericia’s pace turned to a run.

I have to leave. But where?

The question echoed in her mind—a question she’d asked herself long ago.

She couldn’t stay here. Staying meant hurting Rashid.

Even now, he had almost killed Count Clu. Because of her.

If she hadn’t been there, none of this would’ve happened. He wouldn’t have needed to lie. And that… hurt more than anything. No poison could wound her like that.

I have to disappear. For him.

She had always known. She was the invisible mark carved on his back—something anyone could strike to destroy Rashid Hespelt.

I can’t stay. Not anymore.

She had looked into his face one last time… yet now she couldn’t remember what it looked like. Shocked? Confused?

She had tried to memorize it, believing it might be the last time—but the memory slipped away.

“…I didn’t want to leave like this.”

Just then—

“My lady!”

A voice tore through the silence.

A hand grabbed her wrist.

Tericia instinctively tried to pull away, but the grip only tightened.

“It’s me.”

It was the Crown Prince.

He was slightly breathless, as though he had sprinted after her. Still holding her wrist, he stood close.

Tericia looked at his hand. Then his face.

“My lady…”

She flinched and shook her head, desperate.

“Don’t call me that! You saw everything. You know.”

Her voice trembled as she spoke.

“I do,” Ludwig said gently, nodding. “Lady Tericia—”

She froze.

“I’ll call you anything you want. Whatever you prefer.”

“……”

Ludwig thought she might cry.

But she didn’t.

Her violet-red eyes shimmered, just barely, but no tears fell.

“…I must’ve looked disgraceful.”

“You weren’t.”

His voice was firm, immediate.

The strength in it startled her. She shrank back a little. Clearly, this wasn’t easy for her. She was reacting in ways so unlike her usual self.

“Let’s go back, my lady. Rashid is waiting.”

“No. If I go back, I’ll only cause more harm.”

“He won’t see it that way.”

“Maybe not. But…”

She bit her lower lip, taking a long breath, holding something back.

“You saw it too, didn’t you? Because of me—just me—Rashid nearly killed Count Clu in front of all those nobles.”

“……”

“And you want me to go back? No. I can’t. I won’t be his burden.”

Her refusal was desperate—and Ludwig felt himself grow uneasy.

“You really think Rashid will let you go?” he said. “Do you not know why he fought so hard to become Duke? To seize power? Don’t tell me you believed his words were lies.”

“…I didn’t. I know they weren’t.”

“Then why run?”

“Because I always end up holding him back. I don’t want to—but I keep becoming the thing that weakens him. And if I can’t be someone who helps him… then I need to disappear.”

“Where would you even go? Do you really think you can run far enough to escape him?”

She didn’t answer.

Didn’t look away.

Her pale face, lit by moonlight, looked almost translucent.

“I’ll hide you.”

“…What?”

Tericia blinked. She wasn’t sure she heard him correctly.

But Ludwig’s expression was serious. All his usual lightness was gone.

He held out his hand.

“Tericia… I know you’ve never once taken my hand. I know.”

“……”

“But just this once. Take it. Let me help you disappear. I’m the only one in Latran who can hide you from him.”

“Your Highness, I…”

“You’re just tired. That’s all. Exhausted.”

She looked down at his hand.

He had offered it to her many times before.

Always with a smile. Always joking that Rashid would hate it.

But beneath the jokes… she had always known there was sincerity.

And that was why she could never take it.

“Tericia. Please.”

Seeing her hesitate, he stepped a little closer.

“Just once. Take my hand. Let me help you run.”

“……”

“This one time. Just once.”

She realized her hands were trembling.

He was right.

If she truly meant to disappear—if she truly wanted to run—he was the only one who could help her.

Her fingers twitched. Once. Twice.

Then, slowly—hesitantly—she lifted her hand.

And placed it in his.

Just the barest touch. But Ludwig released a long-held breath as if it meant everything.

He closed his fingers around hers—gently, but firmly.

He wouldn’t let go.

A faint smile touched his lips, heavy with relief.

“I’ll hide you from Rashid.”

He held her hand tightly, as if he never intended to let it go.

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