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Saved By The Mad Duke

Aideen Ruan, though a royal princess, was always unwanted due to the circumstances of her birth. Born blind to a hostage concubine, she possessed an intriguing beauty; however, her disability rendered her utterly useless to the royal family. Even when the struggling Count Crueder reluctantly agreed to take Aideen as his wife to secure the royal dowry, her life failed to improve. A year into their marriage, Aideen's inability to produce an heir sealed her fate. The princess was destined for exile to the Temple, consigned to spend the remainder of her days in isolation and abandonment. Contrary to her anticipations, instead of the Temple, Aideen found herself within the cold walls of Duke Tillian Valentine's castle. Duke Valentine, the last scion of the once-revered Valentine family that ruled the Kingdom before the "Fratricide Rebellion", now presided over the desolate Northern lands. Faced with fear and confusion, Aideen expected her life to perpetuate its cycle of misery, only to discover that Duke Valentine might hold the key to a new opportunity, a chance at a life she had never envisioned. "You bewitched my body and soul. Put an intoxicating spell on me, shackled my heart to yours with your magic. If I could exchange my eyesight with you, I would do it just to make you see what a man dying from love looks like."

yoojee · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
228 Chs

Mad Dog

Abruptly, the stillness outside the carriage shattered into a cacophony of abrupt noises – swift footsteps, a chorus of stern male voices, and the unmistakable sounds of men engaged in a fight.

Caught off guard by this sudden twist of events, Aideen felt a surge of panic. She instinctively retreated to the farthest corner of the carriage, away from its door, clasping her shoulders as if shielding herself from potential harm. In a surprisingly loud and frightened voice, she inquired,

"What is happening?"

Instead of offering a soothing response, the knight swiftly muffled her words with his large, gloved hand, pressing her head against the rough surface of the carriage, and whispered,

"Shh! Stay quiet!"

In response to his gesture, Aideen found herself further confounded. Trembling like a leaf in the wind, she retreated even deeper into the corner of the carriage, attempting to steady her racing heart. She strained to discern the exact nature of the sounds that persisted in echoing through the ominous expanse of the dark forest.

'What is happening out there? Could we be under attack by bandits? But there's scarcely anything of value in here; Count Constantine would hardly be generous enough to send me off with such riches.'

Lost in her thoughts, Aideen could not gauge how much time had passed while they remained in silent confinement within the carriage. With the knight's hand steadfastly muffling her mouth, and anxiety tightening its grip on her heart, she felt a growing sense of breathlessness. Yet, paralyzed by terror, she dared not move a single muscle.

'I can't breathe, I need some air...'

Finally, the loud sounds of fighting subsided, giving way to a solemn stillness. The only audible remnants were the subdued murmurs of those who had emerged victorious—two men engaged in what seemed like a measured conversation as they strolled cautiously around the carriage.

In the grip of fear, Aideen could not suppress the nagging curiosity about the grim and inevitable fate that awaited her in the imminent moments.

'Could these be the bandits? Have they killed the royal knights? Are they now poised to end my life? The royal knight will never risk his life for me. My destiny seems sealed.'

The carriage door creaked open, revealing the two bandits who scrutinized the interior before acknowledging the knight seated beside Aideen. The first bandit, with a loud, raspy voice, initiated the conversation,

"The job's finished. Now, what shall we do with the woman? Slit her throat and strip her of her belongings? Does she even have anything of value to stage this as a robbery?"

Aideen emitted a desperate gasp, stifled by the knight's sizable hand, while an intense wave of shivers coursed through her body like an earthquake.

'So he was not a knight after all, he was with the bandits this whole time!'

Unpleased with the princess's response, the man clicked his tongue disapprovingly, intensifying his grip on her face to the point of near-crushing. A heavy sigh escaped him as he turned to address the other men,

"Count Crueder has already compensated you with gold, hasn't he? Feel free to demolish the carriage, salvage the wood and metal for your homes. As for the woman..."

He leaned in closer to Aideen's face, a sinister grin playing on his lips as he added,

"Do with her as you wish; just make sure she is dead before the Royal Guards arrive for investigation."

The two men erupted into a repulsive fit of laughter, the sound slicing through the air like thunder, piercing the woman's ears. Seizing her by her slender wrists, they forcefully yanked her out of the carriage, aided by a third man who callously shoved her with his foot, treating her like a worthless criminal.

"How about indulging ourselves before ending her life? Opportunities to lay hands on a royal princess don't come that often."

The first man drew his face near Aideen's, his noxious breath clinging to her skin like poison, almost inducing sickness.

"Often? How about never! This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance, and we shall relish it to the fullest! Despite being a defective princess, she's still a beauty! It's a shame she's blind; otherwise, I bet her eyes would have crowned my collection!"

The second man pressed the cold blade of the knife against the temple of the woman's head, slowly moving it closer to her left eye, leaving a thin trace of blood. The blade halted right at the corner of her left eye, and Aideen could no longer suppress her emotions.

With her eyes still closed, two heavy teardrops slowly moved down, escaping the loose confines of her thick eyelashes as her frantic mind succumbed to despair.

'I feared death, but now, death appears as the greatest mercy. Please, torment me no more. Just let me die.'

Observing her distress, the bandits could not resist another round of laughter.

"Oh my, looks like I've almost made the mistake of getting here too late."

The laughter ceased as another man's voice emerged seemingly out of thin air. The two men swiftly turned, their swords pointed at the stranger leisurely advancing toward them. This mysterious figure, draped in a long black cloak with a large hood over his head, possessed an imposing stature. His face was concealed beneath a black mask, and his right hand securely gripped the handle of a massive black sword.

"And who, may I ask, are you?"

The third man leaped out of the carriage, pointing his sword at the tall man in black, the glistening tip of the blade pressing against the stranger's broad chest. The latter lowered his head, fixing his gleaming red eyes on the blade touching his body. Then, as if the sword were nothing more than a flimsy plaything, he seized the blade with his gloved hand and bent it down until the weapon finally snapped, leaving the bandit with a broken sword in his trembling hand.

"What... What are you?"

The stranger offered no reply to another query. Instead, he skillfully swung his black sword before the bewildered man, cleaving his body in half.

"The black sword! It's him! The Mad Dog of Valentines!"

One of the remaining men exclaimed, forcefully thrusting Aideen in front of him and pressing his sword against her throat.

"Don't come closer or I will kill her! Don't move!"

The mysterious man enveloped his own sword with the fabric of his cloak, wiping away the blood that stained its blade. Then, he fixed his glowing eyes on the man standing beside the princess and began a deliberate advance, his ponderous footsteps resonating like those of a colossal entity, causing the ground to quake beneath him.

Reluctant to suffer the same fate as the man severed in two, the bandits succumbed to panic. Without much ado, they pushed Aideen toward the stranger and hastily retreated, their bodies weaving through the towering trees, stumbling over roots in their desperate escape.

The man deftly caught Aideen's falling body, cradling her carefully in his arms, observing as she lay motionless within his embrace.

"Is she even alive?"

Out of the shadows emerged another tall figure, clad in black, approaching the stranger and lowering his face to assess the princess's condition.

"She is. Go take care of these two."

The first man issued a resolute command, met with a respectful bow from the second, who affirmed,

"Yes, Your Grace."