Exiled Prince: I'm the Unexpected Extra in the Novel-Chapter 121: The War for the North[9] The Ice Princess and the Crimson Lizard
The most protected room in Winter Castle, despite being insulated from the storm outside, held an atmosphere so heavy and bleak it felt like a funeral parlor.
The fire in the hearth was feeble, its fuel almost spent, casting long, shivering shadows into the corners of the chamber.
Cecilia Frosthelm sat sadly in the middle of her magnificent, silver-embroidered bed. Shrunken beneath the thick quilt she had pulled over herself, she had drawn her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around her legs.
She was trying to shield herself from the outside world, from her responsibilities, and from the cruel truths Cassian had spoken to her.
Tears streamed silently from her eyes, dropping onto the silk surface of the quilt. Her sobs were caught in her throat; it was as if she lacked the strength even to make a sound.
Cassian’s words... they kept echoing in her mind.
"Your family is dead, Cecilia. They are never coming back." "Clinging to their so-called legacy won’t change anything!" "They caused the destruction of the people they sought to protect."
These sentences were the verbal manifestation of the darkest thoughts Cecilia had suppressed for years, afraid to admit them even to herself.
For a stranger, and a younger one at that, to come and slap these realities across her face had opened an unhealing wound in her soul. She felt helpless, inadequate, and utterly alone.
She was no Duchess right now; she was just a little girl who missed her mother and father and felt guilty for failing to protect her legacy.
She rested her cheek on her knee and thought of Mordret’s Blade, kept hidden deep within the castle. That sword was a curse. But it was also the last remnant of her family. Giving it up felt like killing her parents a second time.
Meanwhile, across the corridor, a peculiar scuffle was taking place outside the massive oak door.
The Mystic Beast Cryomara held Cassian by the arm, dragging him to the door like a mother pulling a reluctant child to school. Cassian was dragging his feet, resisting going inside. On his face was an expression of weariness and unease utterly unbefitting a ’God Slayer.’
"Couldn’t I see her tomorrow, at least?" Cassian pleaded, his voice a whisper mixed with supplication. "By morning, we’ll both have calmed down. If I go in now, she might try to freeze me again."
Cryomara rolled her blue eyes. "So you want her to spend the entire night alone, crying in that cold bed and blaming herself?"
"No!" Cassian said quickly. "That’s not what I meant. It’s just... the timing is bad."
Cryomara straightened Cassian’s collar and placed her hand on the doorknob.
"You’re going to be human, not strategic, little lizard," she said. Her voice was both firm and encouraging. "Be brave, little lizard, just say what’s in your heart."
Before Cassian could utter another "But...", Cryomara flung the door open with a crash and shoved Cassian by the back, launching him into the middle of the room.
"Good luck," she said and shut the door behind him.
Cassian stumbled from the sudden, powerful push. He staggered a few steps forward, barely regaining his balance. He turned and cast an angry glare at the closed door, where Cryomara was. "Traitor..." he muttered through gritted teeth.
Then he took a deep breath, swallowed, and slowly turned around. He looked at the bed.
Cecilia had flinched when the door opened but hadn’t lifted her head. That small, trembling silhouette beneath the quilt dropped a knot of guilt into Cassian’s stomach.
The girl’s eyes were so red from crying that their beautiful blue had been lost among the bloodshot veins. Her cheeks were irritated.
The moment Cecilia saw Cassian, the expected outburst of fury did not come. Just... apathy. She averted her gaze from Cassian, turned her head away, and continued to stare at the wall as if no one else were in the room. This silence was far worse than any yelling.
Cassian stood fixed in place. His hands hung at his sides, unsure what to do. An apology... a simple word, but it felt like shards of glass in his throat. How should he begin? What words could fix this situation?
Cassian walked to the wall and sat on the floor near the fireplace.
He sat there for a while, just watching the fire burn without logs, its reflection dancing in his red eyes. He reached up and nervously rubbed the back of his neck.
"I’m sorry," he murmured. His voice was so low that the crackling of the fire might have drowned it out.
No reaction came from Cecilia. She was completely ignoring him. She was denying his existence.
Cassian felt his inner discomfort swell at this dismissal. After a short while, he tried to keep his voice louder, clearer.
"I apologize for being rude to you, Cecilia Frosthelm," he said, choosing his words. "I overstepped my bounds."
The silence continued for a while longer. Then, from beneath the quilt, a faint, broken voice, interrupted by sobs, rose.
"I don’t... hic... need your apology."
Cassian’s left eye twitched involuntarily. His impatience and logic clashed with his emotional intelligence. Even though I’m the younger one here, why is she acting like a stubborn child? he thought to himself. I’m apologizing, can’t we just drop the subject and focus on saving the Duchy?
Cecilia slightly threw off the quilt and fixed her tear-stained eyes on Cassian with an accusatory look.
"You’re only here because Cryomara forced you, aren’t you?" she said, her voice trembling but with a sharp edge. "You didn’t come of your own accord. I heard you being thrown through that door. You... you are a fraud!"
Cassian paused. He could have lied. He could have said, "No, I felt remorse." But he had learned a lesson from his conversation with Liora: these people were sick of lies.
"Yes," Cassian said honestly. He did not look away. "I’m here because Cryomara brought me here, even forcibly shoved me in."
The tiny, vague flicker of hope in Cecilia’s eyes extinguished at that moment. She lowered her head again, a bitter smile on her lips. "I knew it..."
"But," Cassian said, raising his voice. "My regret about treating you badly and doing you wrong... that was genuine."
"I acted disgustingly toward you, Cecilia Frosthelm. I showed no respect for your family’s memory or your grief. I focused only on my own goal and saw you as an obstacle. You... you didn’t deserve to hear those things, to be humiliated in your own home, in your own bedroom. I apologize for that. I’m saying this not because Cryomara forced me, but because I truly feel it."
Cecilia sniffled. She fixed her eyes on Cassian. There was still anger in her gaze.
"You know nothing about me!" she muttered, her voice breaking. "You don’t know me! You don’t know what I’ve suffered, what I’ve sacrificed! You can’t come here and lecture me about life!"
"Yes, I don’t," Cassian said, nodding. "I cannot fully know what you have been through. But you also know nothing about me, Cecilia. You don’t know why I am the way I am, why I want that sword, or what I am fighting against. Yet, you continue to label me as a ’fraud’ and ’hypocrite.’"
"Because you are!" Cecilia retorted. "If you weren’t... you would never covet that sword. That sword is sacred to us. An ally does not reach for the sacred."
Something boiled up inside Cassian. That sword... Mordret’s Blade. He knew the history of that sword, to whom it belonged, and its true power better than Cecilia did. That sword belongs to me! he wanted to shout. That sword is my legacy, which your family has hoarded and allowed to rot because they couldn’t use it!
His lips parted; he wanted to argue, to defend his right.
But then he looked at Cecilia’s face. At that exhaustion, that fear.
He swallowed his words. They left a bitter taste in his throat.
Whatever he said now, no matter how logical his arguments were, it wouldn’t mean anything to Cecilia. The girl was holding on by clinging to that sword. Taking the sword meant demolishing her last pillar of support. Cassian took a deep breath. He clenched his fists, then relaxed them.
"The sword..." Cassian said, his voice calm but with storms raging within. "The sword can stay with you."
The room fell silent for a moment. Cecilia looked up as if she couldn’t believe what she had heard. She narrowed her eyes.
"What?"
"You heard me," Cassian said, averting his gaze. "I don’t want the sword. At least... not for now."
Cecilia’s suspicion did not lessen; instead, it grew. "Is this a game? Are you trying to trick me into letting my guard down?"
Cassian turned his gaze back to Cecilia. His red eyes glowed like embers.
"My priorities have changed," Cassian said.
He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper, yet every word was clear.
"My only desire now, my only goal... is to destroy the Obsidian Dawn. To wipe the darkness they brought from these lands."
"Why?" Cecilia asked. "You have no reason to fight them? Is it just for power?"
"Power?" Cassian laughed bitterly. He put his hand on his chest. "They... they stole my life, Cecilia. Just as they took your family, they took... everything I had, my future, my past. As long as they exist, neither can you be safe with that sword, nor can I find peace."
He locked his eyes with Cecilia’s. His gaze was so intense, so sincere, that Cecilia couldn’t look away.
"You may still choose not to believe me. After everything you’ve been through, I can’t blame you for that."
"But," Cassian continued. "But... I will still continue to fight the Obsidian Dawn in these lands."
"You may not see me as a friend or an ally, but at least we share a common goal."
Cecilia saw the reflection of her own pain in Cassian’s eyes. She recognized the hatred, the loneliness, and the desire for vengeance behind those red eyes. This boy might be a fraud, a manipulator, but his pain... his pain was real.
These words created a crack in the icy wall Cecilia had built around herself. She felt compelled to believe him. Because she had no other choice. Because she wanted to believe.
"If you are lying..." Cecilia said, her voice shaky but threatening. "If this is also a game... I swear, I will kill you with my own hands, Cassian. I will do it myself, without waiting for Cryomara."
Cassian smiled slightly. "That sounds terrifying."
As the tense atmosphere between the two gave way to a fragile, threadbare truce, a sudden temperature shift occurred in the center of the room.
Ice crystals in the air began to dance, and a beam of blue light intensified in the dark corner of the room.
The Mystic Beast Cryomara appeared in human form. On her face was the tired but satisfied expression of a mother who had watched her children quarrel and then reconcile.
"I see..." Cryomara said, her voice like a melody that dispersed the tension in the room. "You’ve managed to talk without throttling each other, at least."
She approached the bed, touched Cecilia’s shoulder, and then looked at Cassian.
"Giving up the sword... that was mature of you, little lizard. Kaiser would probably have demolished the castle to get it."
Cassian shrugged. "I’m not Kaiser. And demolishing the castle... is not in my plans for now."
"In that case," Cryomara said, shifting the mood to business. "Now that the emotional moments are over... shall we talk about this ’cleanup’ plan? Because the corridors of this palace must be washed with the blood of traitors."
