TCCIO 37

Chapter 37. That’s a Relief
Night had fallen deep and dark. A faint glow flickered inside the Supreme Commander’s tent of the Stilleitz Empire.

Drip.
Aaron tipped the bottle, pouring brandy into a glass. The golden liquid, reminiscent of her hair, filled the glass to the brim.

Clink. Clack.
Two stones in Aaron’s palm clicked against each other.

As the Supreme Commander of the Stilleitz Empire, Aaron rolled the stones in his left hand and lifted the glass in his right.

Through the amber liquid catching the reddish glow, the memory of the recent battle shimmered faintly—
The Battle of the Kabat Plains, fought near the Iorenti border.

There, 50,000 Iorenti troops had been waiting for the imperial army.

The empire’s forces had barely survived an ambush from just 200 royal guards at Mount Tarens. And now they faced a full force of 50,000, fully prepared.

Aaron raised every possible defense.
He requested 50,000 reinforcements from the imperial mainland, leading a 100,000-strong army himself.
He watched the weather carefully, crafted precise strategies.

And yet… that absurd battle.

When the gunfire began and Iorenti’s formation scattered, he first thought it was a trap to lure them in.
A cunning ploy to make the empire lower its guard.

But he realized it wasn’t a trick—it was a genuine retreat.
The news came from a messenger:

“The Supreme Commander has disappeared.”

Just as the real fighting was about to begin, the Iorenti commander—who should have been leading the charge—vanished.

Without their leader, the Iorenti army, made up of mercenaries, crumbled instantly.

“My sister throws herself into battle with just 200 soldiers, ready to die for Iorenti…”

Aaron muttered low, downing his drink harshly.

The flickering firelight flowed down his jaw and neck like liquor itself. The sharp scent of alcohol filled the tent with each exhale.

“And the Crown Prince… flees the moment he sees the enemy, even with a full army behind him.”

Thanks to the fleeing prince, they’d taken the Kabat Plains with hardly a fight.
But the victory only deepened Aaron’s emptiness.

The prince had abandoned Iorenti so easily.
So why had she found it so difficult?

“Who knew two siblings could be so different…”

A dark shadow veiled his deep-set eyes, his pupils burning bright beneath.

If only she had let go of Iorenti, he would’ve given her everything.
But she was his prisoner.

The princess who couldn’t abandon Iorenti no matter what.
The princess who ate poison just to return to her homeland.

Thinking of Delia, Aaron’s gaze deepened.
He lifted the glass again, refilling it with golden liquor that shimmered in the soft light.

The drink resembled her.
No… was it she who resembled the drink?
It didn’t matter anymore.

Without her, he couldn’t bear the silence. Without liquor, he couldn’t bear her absence.

Damn prisoner.

He had plucked flowers with his own hands to comfort her.

The sensation of severing the stem and the trembling curve of her small back lived on in his palm.
It drove him mad.

No matter how much he scratched at his hand, the feeling wouldn’t fade. It suffocated him.

If he had known it would hurt this much, he never would’ve picked the flower.
If he’d known it would torment him, he would never have let her eat it.

Now, he had a new habit.
Whenever regret overwhelmed him, he’d pick up ordinary stones lying around.

The sensation of her lips brushing his when she bit into fruit.
The soft skin that brushed his hand when feeding her raspberries.
The deep rope marks on her thin wrists.
Her hair, like sunlight, tangled softly in his fingers.

And the small hands that had clung to him, trembling in pain, yet pleading desperately.

Each time those memories returned to his fingertips, he rolled the stones.
The rough feel of the stone grounded him when regret tried to consume him.

“Commander.”

Clink clack.
As the stones tapped, Dyke entered the tent.

He’d come to report, but Aaron’s deadly aura made him hesitate.
He’d been like this ever since they sent the princess away—
Dark, cold, hiding in shadows, with only his eyes burning.

“Report.”

“We’ve lost Crown Prince Alberto.”

Aaron drank fiercely.
Dyke, intimidated by the sharp energy, reported carefully.

“Well… we searched the entire area, but there’s no sign of him.”

“Is that so?”

Aaron’s calm reply shimmered in the red-lit tent.
Even the curve of his lips looked terrifyingly beautiful.

“Tell the army—capture him alive if found.”

“Understood.”

“And bring me any further updates related to the prince immediately.”

He had to claim everything connected to Iorenti.
Whether land, royalty—or even stones. Anything.

Aaron’s command, heavy enough to smother, filled the empty glass with more than brandy.

“Yes, Commander. And one more thing…”

Just as Dyke began to report again, another soldier burst through the tent flap.

“Commander!”

Dyke frowned at the intrusion.

“What is it?”

“Advisor Colin has returned—with survivors.”

“Advisor Colin?”

Dyke’s eyes widened as he looked at Aaron.
But Aaron didn’t move, even after hearing the urgent news.

As if detached from this world, he raised his glass slowly.

Damn princess.

Colin had gone to assault the royal capital in Aaron’s place, obsessed as he was with the escaped prisoner.
Colin had likely opened a path per Aaron’s orders, for the endangered princess.

Her response had been war.

The imperial army had been drenched in rain and blood—defeated.
Yet even while writhing in pain, the princess’s resolve to protect Iorenti never broke.

How had he thought she could be tamed?

Aaron sneered at himself and emptied his glass.
Slamming it down, he slowly stood.

Outside the tent, Colin was kneeling before him.

“I’m sorry, Commander.”

Aaron looked down at him coldly.

“The rain disabled our weapons, and we reacted too slowly.”
“The fault lies with me.”

Remembering the rainy battlefield, Colin clenched his fists.

That night was filled with darkness and pounding rain.

Surrounded on all sides, Colin had been shocked by the Iorenti attack through the black storm.
Gunpowder weapons failed in the rain.

In the end, they clashed with blades.
While the empire’s army was strong, Iorenti matched them sword for sword.

They fought fiercely under the downpour, and both sides suffered heavy losses.
Unable to hold the royal capital, Colin had gathered the survivors and retreated.

“We should’ve been better prepared.”

Colin spoke grimly, as a defeated commander.

“I’ll take full responsibility—”

Before he could finish, Aaron interrupted.

“Forget it.”

Colin looked up in disbelief.

“Sir?”

“Erase that battle from your mind.”

“But…”

“Forget the defeat. Remember only the victories to come.
We will claim Iorenti.”

Aaron’s calm voice echoed with more force than ever.

“Dyke. Prepare meals for the survivors. Call the medics to tend to the injured.”

“Yes, Commander.”

“Provide everything they need for a full recovery.”

Colin looked up in astonishment.
No punishment?
No blame?

This was rare. Almost unheard of.
He glanced around, but no other soldier seemed surprised.

Everyone moved swiftly, obeying Aaron’s command.
What’s going on?

Colin tried to ask—but Dyke stopped him.

Standing behind Aaron, Dyke crossed his arms in an X.

“Don’t speak. Don’t say anything.”

Right now, the only thing scarier than the enemy was their own Supreme Commander.

Dyke slashed his hand across his neck.

“Say the wrong thing, and you’re dead.”

Colin, not yet caught up, stared at Aaron, stunned.

The sole Duke of the Empire—Bergen.

Even in war, when blood splattered, he always smiled.
But now, he’d forgotten how to smile.
His ever-relaxed demeanor had vanished.

His eyes, like blades, cut through everything before him.

Soldiers moved quickly—not out of duty, but survival.
And still, the stones rolled in Aaron’s hand.

“Commander. One more message.”

Aaron stopped mid-step, returning to the tent.

“A letter from Day.”

Aaron’s brow twitched.
Day—the spy planted in Iorenti.

Grabbing the letter, Aaron scanned it. Then froze.

Even the clinking stones went still.

Like the world had gone silent after a sudden explosion.

[Iorenti Royal Ship Preparing for Departure. Presumed Related to Marriage Negotiations with Boswell.]

Aaron’s ash-gray eyes locked on the note.

After a long silence, he slowly raised his head.

His breath escaped like water from a cracked dam.

“That’s a relief.”

Aaron clutched the letter.
His hand trembled like Delia’s had, wracked with poison.

“I was worried. But I’m really… relieved.”

Damn Delia.
Still alive, thankfully.
Stronger than he’d feared—
Strong enough to discuss marriage with Boswell across the sea.

“As long as she’s alive… that’s enough.”

He could go get her—anytime, anywhere.

Aaron handed the crumpled note to Dyke.

The two stones in his hand began rolling again.

“Tell Day—report everything. The princess’s movements. The royal family’s plans. Don’t miss a thing.”

“Yes, Commander.”

“And increase our advance speed.
If we’re to conquer Boswell across the sea—we’ll need to hurry.”

With a low voice, Aaron gave the order and looked up.

The stars sparkled above.

The stones in his hand had served their purpose.
Worn smooth from friction, they now resembled her.

Time to find new ones—rougher, sharper.

Aaron let out a deep sigh and began walking, searching for his next stone.