Grant me Your Grace Chapter 95

This was a word he had never anticipated.

 

The question asking if she was not a Baran, if she was truly not the daughter of Khankundra, was utterly beyond Hissin’s expectations.

 

Dahlia’s words—that this was the only way to survive—remained as another variable, carving a deep scar upon his heart.

 

“You’re going to kill me? A man who’s been wandering this palace, never knowing when he’ll be caught… Do you know what I first thought when I heard that…?”

 

A fresh tear traced a path down Dahlia’s cheek, already stained with blood and tears.

 

“Thank goodness.”

 

That single tear sent a profound tremor through Hissin’s crimson eyes.

 

“They say the Emperor tore me from my parents’ arms… that he slaughtered my entire clan…!”

 

Her voice, which had soared with desperate intensity, now broke and fell, shattering into a whisper.

 

“And like a fool… I thought… now you would have no reason to hate me…”

 

Her mind screamed that it was impossible, a denial she clung to fiercely. 

 

Yet, in a hidden corner of her heart, a fragile hope dared to lift its head. 

 

Even though he was the man who had utterly shattered and destroyed the very Baran legacy she had sought to protect, in that moment, if she was not the daughter of his enemy… she wanted nothing more than to collapse in infinite relief.

 

If she were not a Baran, then everything he had taken from her from the start would mean nothing.

 

If she were not the Emperor’s daughter, then there would be no further reason for him and her to stand opposed.

 

Then he wouldn’t have to seize her heart only to break it into a thousand pieces.

 

Then wanting you… wouldn’t be a sin.

 

“So… please, just say it,” 

 

Dahlia pleaded, her gaze desperately fixed on Hissin.

 

“Tell me… I’m not a Baran.”

 

Had her tears flowed onto him? 

 

A single, transparent droplet clung to the chin of the expressionless man.

 

Something else traced a path across his cheek, merging with the sorrow gathered at the line of his jaw before falling. When Dahlia lifted her gaze, his impassive crimson eyes were welling with tears once more.

Dahlia cupped Hissin’s weeping face. 

 

As she spread her thumb to wipe a tear away, the muscles of his jaw tightened sharply. 

 

Tracing the painful evidence of something forcibly swallowed down, she spoke, her own heart aching.

 

“Tell me I am not worthy of your hatred.”

 

“…”

 

“Tell me you… You merely rescued me from that terrible land.”

 

Even if it’s a lie.

 

I wouldn’t mind being deceived again.

 

Just let me… let me drop everything and stay by your side.

 

Just let me breathe.

 

Hissin slowly closed his eyes, then opened them. 

 

A fresh tear, born from who knows how long he had been crying, streamed down his damp cheek and wet Dahlia’s hand.

 

It’s just a few drops of tears. 

 

Yet Dahlia, whose own eyes were already red and swollen from crying too much, wore a heart-wrenchingly pitiful expression, as if even this pained her.

 

What’s so pitiful about a bastard like me crying? 

 

What’s so wretched about a fool who, lost in his own revenge, took his rage out on a woman more unfortunate than himself?

 

Still, every time Hissin shed a tear, Dahlia’s own suffering deepened, making her weep more. 

 

Unaware that her tears were only casting her deeper into an abyss. 

 

Unaware that her tears were solely for him.

 

Hissin forced strength into facial muscles threatening to contort on their own and parted his lips.

 

“Your name… is not Baran.”

 

His voice, submerged in tears, cracked lowly.

 

“You are of the Selector people… long exploited by the Baran kingdom…”

 

“…Hhng…”

 

“The Emperor… took you, born around the same time, and raised you as the Princess… in place of his own daughter who died at birth.”

 

Dahlia’s shoulders shook as a sob broke free. 

 

Confronted with a long-buried truth, she swayed precariously, yet, mercifully, did not collapse. She mourned the family who had died unjustly, but did not succumb to confusion.

 

Contrary to the fear that the truth would shatter her, her eyes, instead, cleared from the chaos, like a person discovering light at the end of a long tunnel.

 

“Then… then who am I?”

 

She reached a hand toward that shimmering light. 

 

Hissin placed a brilliantly shining name into her palm.

 

“Hinnah.”

 

“…”

 

“You were Hinnah. The original masters of the Baran.”

 

“Hinnah…”

 

Dahlia pronounced her true family name for the first time. 

 

Though she had never met her kin, the mere thought that their blood flowed in her veins filled her with a renewed strength to go on living.

 

“Thank you… For telling me… For not hiding it from me.”

 

Dahlia forced a smile through her tear-streaked face. 

 

Gazing at her, Hissin spoke in a voice thick with suppressed emotion.

 

“…I’m sorry.”

 

For the first time, the face of the man who had endured everything stoically twisted.

 

“I dared to try and burden you with the sins of the Baran.”

 

I have already committed too many unforgivable crimes against you. I dare not even hope for forgiveness. 

 

And yet… I want to cling to your ‘thank you.’

 

“I know that saying ‘I didn’t know’ is no excuse I am entitled to.”

 

Hissin pulled Dahlia’s body into his arms. 

 

He embraced her, this woman with a frame so frail it seemed it might break, who was nonetheless standing firmer than he was, holding her with a desperate, aching tenderness.

 

“You never have to forgive me. You can despise me, hate me, blame me for the rest of your life…”

 

Just stay by my side. Don’t leave me.

 

I will live the rest of my life atoning, so please… don’t take yourself away from me.

 

“Even if it’s that version of you… let me live my life looking at you.”

 

Dahlia looked at Hissin, who was clutching her so desperately, with eyes full of sorrowful longing. 

 

What had entangled us so inextricably like this? 

 

Unresolved emotions swirled chaotically within her, but in this single moment, one thought burned with absolute clarity.

 

“How… could I ever leave you?”

 

Just as you cannot let me go… I, too, cannot release you.

 

“You are the only one who can cleanse this cursed blood… No… If I can just keep you by my side, I would willingly carry this accursed blood for a lifetime…”

 

How could someone like me ever leave you? 

 

Where would I, who has lost everything, go? Where could I, who has only you left, possibly go?

 

“Let’s forget it all,” 

 

Dahlia whispered, wrapping her arms around Hissin’s neck. 

 

Gazing into his eyes, now stained the same color as her own sorrow, she painted a heart-wrenching smile upon her tear-quivering lips. 

 

“Forget everything… and let’s just think of us.”

 

Only you and me. 

 

Only the fact that we desire each other. 

 

That we need each other, that we are deeply, irrevocably bound to one another.

 

That you cannot be without me, and I cannot be without you.

 

“That… is all I need.”

 

Dahlia, who had been cradling Hissin’s face, slowly lowered her head. Then, she pressed her lips to his—the lips that had always been the first to claim her.

A warmth tasting of tears steeped thickly between their gently joined mouths. 

 

A warmth that had been so maddeningly resentful, yet so inescapably longed for. Dahlia swallowed back a sob threatening to escape and savored his lips a little longer.

At the very moment, a soft, unrestrained cry finally scratched at her throat—

 

“Hah…”

 

Hissin tilted her chin with his fingertips and, in one breath, delved deep inside her. His invading tongue entwined with hers, unraveling her pent-up desire as he claimed her completely.

 

Having greedily swallowed Dahlia’s lips, Hissin lay her down, imprisoning her beneath him. 

 

Yet, fearing she might be hurt by the lingering red marks, he began to carefully, tenderly stroke her neck.

 

His touch, so impatient yet so achingly gentle, felt so good it brought tears to her eyes, and Dahlia surrendered her body to him completely. 

 

Provoked by the skillful, overt grinding of his tongue, a tightness coiled low in her belly, and her breath grew shallow.

 

Despite her body, weary from weeping, something deep within yearned for Hissin. 

 

That heat, ignited in an instant, swelled and tightened in her throat.

 

She wanted to be closer to him. 

 

To intertwine with him so seamlessly they became one.

 

She wanted to do that with him—the act that had always brought shame and a sense of betrayal, that tangled her thoughts and melted her into a feverish mess.

 

Not because of the red marks.

 

But because she wanted you, wholly and completely.

 

“Hold me,” 

 

Dahlia murmured in a voice thick with desire, already half-unraveled beneath him.

 

“I want… to be with you.”

 

Hissin gazed down at her with crimson eyes. 

 

He had been restraining himself, chewing back his clamoring desire, fearing Dahlia might startle and injure herself further, contenting himself with kisses alone.

And you, unknowing, so easily sever the last threads of my patience.

 

“Hmm…?”

 

With eyes red and swollen, with a face puffy and soft from crying, looking this utterly ruined… and you say you want me?

 

“Ah—!”

 

With a groan, Hissin released the last restraint he’d placed upon himself. 

 

He scooped Dahlia’s body up lightly, then swept the blood-soaked pillows and sheets to the floor. He peeled away her stained garments and his own, casting them aside with equal disregard.

 

Now utterly exposed, his fully naked form pressed her bare skin firmly beneath him. He turned his head, his voice a guttural rasp.

 

“Tell me… if you can’t bear it.”

 

“…”

 

“I can’t promise I’ll be in my right mind… but I’ll try to hold back… as much as I can.”

 

Their parted lips then released a shared, desperate breath, hot and yearning, directly onto each other.