The Crown Prince's Lost Beloved

The elderly imperial physician fell to his knees with a thud and advised in a sorrowful voice, "Your Highness, I really can't do this. Miss Jerryton accompanied you on your 900‑mile exile and already suffered from illness. If I take blood from her heart again, she will be in unbearable pain when she wakes up."

Louis Xavier interrupted sharply. His eyes held a chilling hostility. "Enough. Since you can't do it, I'll do it myself."

He snatched the dagger from the imperial physician's hand and plunged it into Arissa Jerryton's heart without hesitation.

"Mmm..." Her fingertips trembled slightly, yet no one noticed.

Blood gushed out. Louis caught it with a silver bowl, turned around, and left once it was full.

The imperial physician staggered after him. The door closed with a heavy thud, and their footsteps faded away.

Arissa slowly opened her eyes. Her hair was damp with cold sweat. She bit her lower lip tightly to keep her groan from escaping.

She thought, "Ouch... It hurts so much."

No one knew she was not in a coma.

Half an hour earlier, Louis handed her a glass of red wine. She drank it and sensed something was wrong, then vomited it out. She never expected it to contain anesthetic powder. Was it all to put her in a coma so he could drain her heart's blood to save Nicola Mullery?

She trembled as she raised her hand to cover the gruesome wound on her chest. Blood seeped through her fingers and stained her snow‑white nightgown.

How ridiculous.

Three years earlier, the Crown Prince Louis angered the king and was banished. The entire court avoided him like the plague. The noble ladies who once fawned over him shunned him. Even his childhood sweetheart and fiancée, Nicola, publicly broke off their engagement because she feared he would implicate her.

Only Arissa defied her family's objections and insisted on following him.

On the road to exile, she took a knife for him when bandits robbed him. In the dead of winter, she saved all her rations for him when food was scarce. She even cut her own wrist to feed him medicine with her blood when he had a persistent high fever.

She shared spoiled food with him, slept in haystacks, and endured countless miles of wind, frost, rain, and snow.

He had now been restored to the throne. His heart softened after Nicola knelt before the palace gates, weeping and pleading her case. He even went so far as to extract Arissa's heart's blood to save her.

Arissa staggered out of bed. Each step felt like walking on knives. The wound in her heart tore open with each movement, yet it was nothing compared to her agony.

Nicola's bedchamber was brightly lit. Through the half‑open window, Arissa saw Louis carefully feeding Nicola a bowl of her heart's blood.

"Ouch..." Nicola's eyes were tightly closed, brimming with tears. "Louis, it hurts so much."

Louis stiffened. "Bear with it. It'll be over soon."

Nicola finished the blood and nestled in his arms. Her complexion improved. A moment later, she slowly woke up and looked at Louis with concern.

"Louis." She trembled and grabbed his sleeve. "You forgive me, don't you? I'm sorry. I was too cowardly back then, unable to endure hardship. I regret it. I really regret it. If you don't want me, I'd rather die."

She tried to smash her head against the wall.

"Enough." Louis grabbed Nicola and pushed her onto the bed, kissing her roughly.

It was not a gentle kiss. It was a release filled with anger, pain, and helpless frustration.

He kissed her repeatedly, as if he wanted to meld her into his very bones. When he spoke again, his voice held suppressed misery. "Nicola, you're taking advantage of my feelings for you."

"I still want you. How could I not? Yesterday, I petitioned my father to grant you and Arissa the right to marry me on the same day. She will be the Crown Princess, and you will be my concubine."

"A concubine? Louis, you promised me you would only be with me forever." Nicola was on the verge of tears.

"Arissa sacrificed so much for me. I can't abandon her. You only need to know that you're the one I love."

He held her tightly. His thin lips brushed her collarbone.

His eyes, filled with deep affection, seemed to unravel all the love, hate, and longing of the past 3 years.

Arissa looked at the intertwined figures behind the gauze curtains. A sharp pain in her heart made her bend over. She clutched her chest as blood dripped to the ground. Even that pain could not compare to the agony of her heart feeling pierced by countless arrows.

She pondered, "Louis, oh Louis, 900 miles of exile, and you still don't love me. If that's the case, I don't need to marry you."

She had loved someone with all her heart for 10 years, yet letting go happened in an instant.

She turned around and left. Blood dripped along her path and bloomed into poignant flowers in the corridor.

The palace staff retreated in terror, yet she remained oblivious. She walked straight toward the king's quarters.

"Miss Jerryton?" The guarding servant was shocked to see her covered in blood. "What happened to you..."

"I, Arissa Jerryton, request an audience with His Majesty. This concerns the relations between our two nations. Please inform His Majesty immediately."

A moment later, the doors opened.

Inside the royal study, the king looked at the woman kneeling before him and frowned. "Arissa, what's..."

Arissa bowed deeply. "Having heard that Northania seeks the hand of a noblewoman, I volunteer to marry into Northania in exchange for lasting peace on our border."