The Arranged Suitor Was the Kidnapper

“Unbelievable.”

Ishel let out an exclamation of disbelief.

Though he had experienced a prophetic dream, witnessing the actual door opening was still astonishing.

For centuries, all attempts to breach it, by any means, had proven futile.

“…”

Laria slowly lowered the hand that had grasped the handle.

As the door swung open, the space concealed behind was revealed. Yet all she could perceive was an expanse of blinding white, devoid of any distinguishable features.

Even Ishel, who had initially fretted, fell silent upon belatedly examining the room’s interior.

An enigmatic realm, an embodiment of pure magic.

None could foresee what might transpire should they venture within.

“Young lady.”

At Ishel’s call, Laria turned toward him.

“Surely you don’t intend to enter?”

“Having opened it, I must explore further.”

“If any harm befalls you, Zenox will undoubtedly seek to end my life.”

For a fleeting moment, Ishel’s complexion paled with trepidation.

Yet Laria couldn’t relinquish this opportunity.

Perceiving her unwavering resolve, Ishel squeezed his eyes shut.

“Then let’s enter together!”

Would that be wise?

Laria toyed with the gemstones in her pocket.

Having brought an ample supply, she could potentially safeguard even the Crown Prince if necessary.

At Laria’s nod of assent, Ishel took the first step forward.

“Agh!”

Accompanied by a dull thud, Ishel clutched his forehead with both hands.

His brow had instantly flushed crimson, as if colliding with an invisible barrier.

“I can’t enter?”

As Ishel turned with those words, Laria extended her foot across the threshold.

In an instant, she was sucked inward with a whooshing sound.

“Young lady!”

The voice calling out from behind swiftly faded into silence.

Enveloped by a radiant brilliance too dazzling to keep her eyes open, the blinding light abruptly dissipated like a flickering flame, revealing an ordinary chamber.

Slowly opening her eyes, Laria surveyed her surroundings.

‘A study of some sort?’

Sunlight streamed through the large windows, bathing the room in a languid, tranquil afternoon ambiance, yet tinged with a sense of disarray.

First catching her eye was an immense desk, large enough for an adult to lie upon.

Scattered across its surface were papers, quills, and cups in utter disarray.

A chair draped with clothing, an open crate with its lid misplaced…

Vivid traces suggesting the room’s occupant had only just departed moments prior.

As Laria’s gaze roamed the chamber, an oddity became apparent.

‘Why does everything appear so antiquated?’

Though showing no signs of dilapidation or decay, the furnishings exuded an unmistakably archaic quality, as if glimpsed from the pages of a history tome.

It was akin to having traveled through time itself.

Approaching the desk, Laria noticed a neatly placed journal amidst the strewn documents.

On its cover was inscribed a single name:

[Lumena Rohan]

Rohan?

Could there be another family bearing the Rohan surname?

-I’ve even heard it dates back centuries. A member of the White Fox clan, apparently… Could be one of our ancestors.

During her previous palace visit, Theodore had remarked upon glimpsing the Imperial barrier.

While numerous White Fox clan families existed, the Rohan lineage was unique to Laria’s own clan.

‘Could the White Fox sorcerer who created the barrier have been from our family?’

Such an extraordinary coincidence seemed too improbable to be mere happenstance.

Had one of their ancestors truly been a sorcerer of such immense renown, it should have been widely documented – yet even Theodore seemed unaware.

Deferring her contemplations for the moment, Laria picked up the journal.

The title inscribed upon the corner belatedly caught her eye:

[Research Log]

If it pertained to research on the fox orb, all the better.

Harboring a glimmer of hope, Laria turned to the first page.

[His lapses in lucidity have grown more frequent. Suppressing them through magic has reached its limits. I have resolved to create a cure.]

A cure?

Furrowing her brow quizzically, Laria flipped to the next page.

According to the log’s author, Lumena Rohan had a lover who tragically suffered from dissociative identity disorder.

The journal chronicled her experimentation in an attempt to alleviate his condition.

‘Could her lover have been from the Wolf clan?’

Lumena’s beloved’s dissociative episodes bore striking resemblance to the mana overload afflicting the Wolf clan.

She had heard that such hereditary disorders had once been prevalent among their kind, lending credence to the possibility.

[Failed again.]

Page after page, the log entries continued to document nothing but successive failures.

Yet Lumena persisted, meticulously recording even the minutiae of each unsuccessful endeavor.

Among the notations, Laria recognized some of the experiments she herself had attempted.

Eventually, Laria’s fingers stilled upon a particular passage.

[Directly infusing it with magic power proved unsustainable. What if I imbued an object with power instead? He seems fond of glimmering trinkets, so a crystal bead may suffice.]

A bead…!

Laria’s eyes widened in realization.

Could this be a clue regarding the fox orb?

She began reading the log with heightened focus.

[Infusing it with magic power all at once caused the bead to shatter.]

[Imbuing it with lesser amounts caused the effects to swiftly dissipate.]

After numerous failures, Lumena concluded that dividing the magic power and imbuing it into the bead in increments would be necessary.

From that pivotal day onward, the entries began documenting the daily progress.

[Day 1 – I encased his blood within the bead, turning it black. When I infused it with magic power, it shifted to a faint, pale hue.]

Laria became convinced that the bead Lumena had experimented upon was indeed the fox orb she had swallowed.

Having ingested the bead imbued with Lumena’s magic power, the palace barrier had recognized her as its caster.

It also explained why Ishel couldn’t enter this chamber, while she alone could proceed unobstructed.

Among the fox sorcerers, the fox orb was renowned as an artifact capable of amplifying magic power or granting wishes.

Yet its true purpose had been to serve as a cure for mana overload.

‘Though perhaps too potent a remedy.’

Just what manner of sorcerer had Lumena Rohan been?

The more Laria read, the deeper her curiosity grew.

[Day 13 – The bead destabilized upon my touch.]

Continuing to pore over the log, Laria realized the reason behind her previous failures.

She had simply attempted to infuse the bead with magic power, unaware of the intricate requisites involved.

To have unraveled this process entirely through solitary endeavors…

‘What kind of sorcerer was she, truly?’

Initially perceiving her as an unparalleled genius, Laria now sensed an underlying madness as well.

And finally:

[Day 99 – At last, only one day remains. Tomorrow, it shall become a perfect, luminous white.]

What?

The fox orb Laria had witnessed bore a faint, lingering black blemish.

Perplexed, Laria turned to the next page, only to freeze.

It was blank, devoid of any entry.

Unable to conceal her dismay, Laria scanned the remaining pages.

Yet the 100th day’s log was nowhere to be found.

Had Lumena simply forgotten to record it? Or perhaps…

‘It remained incomplete.’

Why, with only a single day remaining?

Unanswered questions flooded Laria’s mind.

So intensely engrossed had she been that the delayed onset of mental fatigue caused Laria’s legs to buckle, collapsing into the chair.

The incomplete fox orb had been passed down through the Krassium lineage as a dynastic heirloom.

Based on the remaining clues, Lumena’s lover may well have belonged to the Krassium family.

‘I wonder if Zenox is aware of any legends regarding the fox orb?’

Thus far, she had consciously avoided broaching the topic, fearful of inadvertently revealing her identity as Whitie.

“Haah…”

Laria exhaled a long sigh.

Though unable to satisfy all her lingering curiosities, she had at least uncovered the method for crafting the fox orb.

A joyous occasion, yet Laria’s expression remained somber.

According to the log, she could return the fox orb to Zenox after the hundredth day.

Having manifested her sorcery thanks to the orb’s power, relinquishing it would inevitably strip her of those abilities.

Though regretful, it paled in comparison to witnessing Zenox succumb to mana overload, even if it meant sacrificing her magic power entirely.

‘When that day comes, I must reveal everything.’

The mere prospect of that impending future weighed upon her like an unbearable burden.

Though fearful of Zenox’s resentment, she had steeled her resolve to accept whatever his reaction might be.

Perhaps that was why she no longer felt consumed by dread alone.

‘How much time has passed?’

Regrettably, she had neglected to bring a timepiece.

The wall-mounted clock in the study displayed unmoving hands, likely rendered inoperative.

Or perhaps a spell had been cast upon the entire chamber, suspending the flow of time itself.

‘The pristine condition of the papers suggests a strong likelihood.’

For centuries to have elapsed, the room remained far too well-preserved.

‘An hour or so, perhaps?’

She envisioned Ishel, undoubtedly frantic with uncertainty outside.

Unwilling to prolong her absence further, Laria rose to her feet.

After a moment’s deliberation, she gathered the journal, having committed its contents to memory yet hesitant to leave it behind.

In her final sweeping glance across the study, Laria’s eyes fell upon an open desk drawer containing a music box.

The instant her fingers made contact, an intense sense of repulsion overcame her, as if warded by a spell.

‘How peculiar…’

Pocketing the music box as well, Laria finally approached the door, grasping the handle and pulling it open.

Whoosh!

A brilliant flash of light engulfed her surroundings before fading, accompanied by a chorus of familiar voices echoing like lingering reverberations.

“Lady Rohan!!”

“Laria!!”

“Our baby fox!!”

Recognized faces had gathered, all present and accounted for.

And lastly, Zenox came into view, his expression one of bewildered disbelief, as if perceiving a mere illusion.

“…Laria.”

Laria remained oblivious.

An entire week had elapsed since her disappearance.