Spring Hills Hold No Autumn

The palace maids and eunuchs filed out, each casting a final, pitying glance at Eva—as though trying to force an answer from her.

Only when Eva saw the love bite on Dylan’s neck did the dread finally sink into her heart.

Darkness swam before her eyes—then she fell, fainting.

Dylan frowned slightly and took a step toward her.

Just then, Susan clutched her stomach with a pained groan. “Your Majesty, I feel so unwell.”

He turned to her at once, his concern immediate. “My love, what’s wrong?”

Sobbing, she confessed, “Last night, I didn’t wish to trouble you… but I… I’m with child.”

Dylan froze. Then joy lit his face. Scooping Susan into his arms, he barked over his shoulder:

“By imperial decree, court is canceled today.”

“Summon the imperial physician—now—to examine Lady Susan.”

Carrying her, he hurried toward the inner chambers without another glance at Eva, still lying on the ground.

She didn’t know how long she lay there.

Without the Emperor’s command, no one dared help her up.

And Dylan, lost in the joy of Susan’s pregnancy, had completely forgotten Eva lying in the pooled rainwater.

Her consciousness drifted in a haze, between wakefulness and oblivion, until the old physician’s voice finally cut through the rain.

“Your Majesty, while the pregnancy is most auspicious, it has been cursed by one of tainted blood. I fear the child may be difficult to preserve!”

Dylan erupted. “Tainted blood—that means Eva, doesn’t it? How dare she!”

“Drag her in here!”

By the time the drenched Eva was thrown to the floor, Dylan finally took in her wretched state.

His eyes held no pity, no remorse—only pure hatred.

Striding forward, he seized her throat, his voice a snarl. “You venomous witch! Who gave you the right to curse my heir!”

The fragile column of her throat buckled under the pressure. Pain was an ocean, despair an abyss.

Eva managed a ghastly smile. She offered no defense.

What would be the point?

Her silence was confession enough.

“You deserve death a thousand times over!”

Dylan squeezed harder, his grip tightening until the bones in her neck gave a sickening crack. Only then did his expression falter; he released her abruptly.

Air rushed back into her lungs, sending her into choking coughs. Her already pale face turned a deathly gray.

Clenching his fists, Dylan spoke coldly. “One last chance. Tell me how to break the curse, and I will spare your life.”

“Hah… haha…” Eva laughed between coughs, her voice shattered. “Death… what is there to fear? You slaughtered my clan—my family—down to the last soul. Why let me linger in this world alone?”

A tremor passed through Dylan’s eyes as he looked at her, a flicker of hesitation.

Susan shot a glance at the physician, who immediately knelt.

“Your Majesty, this humble servant knows a method to break the curse. It will, however, require the young lady to endure… considerable suffering.”

“Speak.”

“The one who cast the curse must be imprisoned in a place of profound darkness and stagnant energy. Then, her heart’s blood must be drawn daily for medicine. Forty-nine days in total should suffice.”

Dylan considered this, brow furrowed—until a soft whimper from Susan cleared his expression.

“Forty-nine days. Barely over a month. A lenient sentence for her.”

“Guards. Confine Eva to the Water Dungeon. Begin the bloodletting today.”

Cold iron manacles snapped shut around Eva’s wrists, suspending her in the center of the flooded cell.

The old physician pressed a hand over her heart, then drove the blade in without mercy.

Eva bit down hard, swallowing the scream.

By the time a full bowl of blood had been drawn, pain blurred her vision; the taste of iron coated her tongue.

Withdrawing his silver knife, the physician sneered down. “Do try to last, my lady. This torment must continue the full forty-nine days.”

Eva’s pale lips twisted into the ghost of a smile.

She wouldn’t need forty-nine days.

In just nine more, the Retribution Ritual would activate.

Every ounce of suffering inflicted upon her today would be repaid to him a hundredfold.

From then on, their paths would diverge for good—their futures unfolding under separate skies.

Bound by nothing at all.