So I Was the Persecuted Grand Duchess Destined to Die? Chapter 125

Chapter 125

“That’s why I sent her ahead as a gift.”

Raphael Blanche shrugged as if it were nothing.

But Felix, unconvinced, pressed further—his tone almost a warning.

“You promised. After everything is over, you said you would leave Renée to me. I don’t care if her soul shatters, or if her body breaks. Just… let her remain by my side.”

Felix’s face looked disturbingly similar to Raphael’s—madness reflected through a different mirror.

“Of course. Naturally…”

Raphael nodded with deceptive gentleness.

“My son wants her that badly. How could a father refuse?”

Only then did Felix’s expression ease, as if he could finally breathe.

“Then I’ll take my leave.”

He bowed and exited.

The moment his footsteps faded beyond the closed door, Isabella’s disgust spilled out.

“Why would you push that woman onto our Felix? Raphael—have you lost your mind? That wretch can’t be allowed to live!”

“Mm. I know.”

Raphael answered lightly.

“I only told him that for now.”

“Then why make a promise you can’t keep?”

Irritation sharpened Isabella’s voice.

Raphael cupped her cheek.

“My love, don’t be so tense. Felix only needs Renée’s shell. A body without its soul… or even a fabricated imitation. He’ll be satisfied.”

His gaze drifted toward the fog-veiled window.

“People driven mad by love treasure illusion more than reality.”

Outside, the palace spires vanished into mist.

“Tomorrow, everything will be decided. Xavier’s heart will be refined into a flawless jewel inside Renée’s body…”

Raphael’s smile deepened.

“And the one who harvests that fruit… will be me.”

From within his robes, he drew out the oath written in Renée’s blood.

Even through parchment, her life force tingled faintly against his fingertips.

He knew.

He knew Renée would choose sacrifice.

And that sacrifice would elevate him to godhood.

“Isabella. Look forward to it.”

His voice lowered, intoxicated.

“Tomorrow will be this empire’s funeral… and the birth of a new era.”

His quiet laughter dissolved into the fog.

* * *

“…Renée?”

“…Ah—yes?”

I startled at the sound of my name.

Across from me sat Felix Rembrandt, watching carefully as I set down my teacup.

The tea had long gone lukewarm.

“What were you thinking about?”

His voice sounded heavier than usual.

I shook my head.

“You barely slept. Your body hasn’t fully recovered from the underground cell.”

His tone was cautious.

It had been two days since priests escorted me to Felix’s palace—mere moments after Ternox and Xavier had left.

Perhaps Raphael wanted me in perfect condition for the ritual.

Unexpected—but not entirely unfavorable.

Felix had changed.

His golden eyes no longer held reckless youth. They were steadier now.

“Did things… end well with Xavier?” he asked.

“For now. We’ll use the same route people were brought through as the escape path.”

“Good.”

Felix had become the perfect insider.

Before Raphael, he played the obedient hunting hound.

Behind the scenes, he quietly redirected sacrifices—using decoys and dummy constructs provided by Ternox.

The day Raphael realized it, Felix would die.

And yet he still chose this path.

Because he finally understood—

His parents’ greed had gone too far.

“Raphael acts calm,” Felix said quietly, “but I think he’s nervous.”

His face paled.

“He’s ordering people seized from across the country. Prisoners… citizens… anyone who can serve as sacrifice.”

His fingers trembled despite himself.

“Ternox helped me prepare substitutes. But even so… people are still dying. I can’t save everyone.”

His voice hollowed.

That helplessness was eating him alive.

I reached across and took his hand.

“Tomorrow… it ends.”

Yes.

Tomorrow.

The ritual to implant Xavier’s heart.

The Grand Noble Assembly.

Raphael’s so-called Day of Judgment.

Ironically—

We would be the ones judging him.

“…Yeah.”

Felix exhaled softly.

Silence stretched between us.

Not uncomfortable.

Just heavy—like air before a storm.

“Renée.”

He lifted his gaze.

Guilt. Fear. A fragile spark of hope.

“If tomorrow… doesn’t go as planned—”

“It will.”

My answer was calm.

Certain.

He gave a faint, bitter smile.

“That’s just like you.”

He stepped closer and gently adjusted the shawl around my shoulders.

There was resolve in that touch.

A quiet finality.

“Rest. Tomorrow will be long.”

Escorted back to my room, I felt the pulse inside my chest.

Xavier’s fragment.

Tomorrow, everything returns to its rightful place.

I did not lie down.

I stood at the window instead.

The fog was grotesquely thick.

Rain continued without pause.

I touched the crystal pendant.

I didn’t know if he was watching.

But knowing it connected me to Xavier was enough.

At the same time, the layers of wards Raphael had placed around the palace pressed in like invisible chains.

I lowered my hand and clutched my chest.

The fragment inside me beat unevenly.

* * *

The Day of the Ritual.

When I opened my eyes—

I was lying once again on cold, damp stone.

“Good morning.”

“…!”

Raphael stood over me.

“Did you sleep well, my niece?”

His smile was gentle.

Repulsive.

I turned my head sharply.

A circular underground chamber.

A massive red magic circle carved into the floor.

It pulsed like something alive.

My hands were bound.

Knock. Knock.

A hooded figure entered.

“Is everything prepared?” Raphael asked softly.

His voice echoed wetly along the stone walls of the Sanctum.