I Refuse This Life, Your Highness! - Chapter 102

“……!”

“Goodness, my lord! If you stab the merchandise like that, I won’t be able to sell it!”

Merchandise? My heart nearly stopped. I held my breath, staring at the blade embedded in the fruit right in front of my eyes. The knife wobbled slightly, but it seemed stuck, hindered by the unexpectedly firm fruit. I pressed my back firmly against the jar behind me, doing my best not to flinch or make a sound.

Then, the blade was abruptly pulled out, and I heard the soldier’s voice again.

“These are troubling times. Security’s tight everywhere.”

“Heh, of course, of course. You must be working so hard. Here, this is the best fruit in my shop. Please, have one while you work!”

Though he said “fruit,” I distinctly heard the clinking of coins. A bribe, clearly.

I was currently hiding in a fruit cart headed to the market. To be precise, I was crammed into a large jar loaded onto the cart. My body was buried under a pile of blueberries.

The faint light filtering through the fruit dimmed as the lid was placed back on the jar. I could hear the fruit merchant groveling some more before the cart began to move again.

It seemed we had successfully passed the inspection at the capital gate. Thankfully, bribery still worked in these tense times.

The previous night, in the study, the Duke, Reia, Lyol, and I had planned our escape from Isser’s castle and journey to the capital. As the war approached, inspections at the capital gates had grown increasingly strict, so we decided to split up to make entry easier. That was yesterday afternoon.

Each of us chose our own method to infiltrate the capital. After much deliberation, we decided that I would hide in a fruit merchant’s jar, while Lyol and Reia disguised themselves as a refugee couple. As for the Duke… he announced he would scale the mountain that served as the capital’s natural fortress.

It was said to be impassable. Yet, the Duke had chosen the route with such composure that none of us voiced any objections. But I couldn’t help worrying. How dangerous was a mountain deemed impossible for humans to cross?

Eventually, the cart arrived at the market, jostling me with every bump. The fruit merchant carefully rolled out the jar and helped me climb out. When I emerged, still covered in blueberries, the merchant looked like he’d aged a decade.

“Ah, it’s a relief you’re safe. I was so frightened earlier.”

I’d been just as terrified. If that knife had struck even a little off, it could’ve stabbed me. Of all the jars to pick, the soldier had chosen the one I was hiding in. I couldn’t decide whether to curse my luck or thank it for sparing me.

“You’ve done well,” I said.

“No, no, it’s nothing, my lady.”

The fruit merchant, an Isser native planted in the capital by the Duke, bowed respectfully. I brushed blueberries off my hair and clothes, donned the hooded robe the merchant had prepared, and stepped out of the shop.

The capital was tense, the air thick with the unease of impending war. Like me, many people walked with their faces obscured, and soldiers roamed the streets.

“Hey, what did I do to deserve this?!”

“Enough talk! Come with us!”

A commotion erupted nearby. Soldiers were stationed everywhere, questioning anyone who seemed suspicious. If they found anything incriminating, they dragged people off without hesitation. Bystanders hurried past, eager to avoid being caught up in the chaos.

I quickened my pace. The inn where we were to meet was not far.

Just as I was about to enter the inn, I turned to glance behind me and locked eyes with a soldier watching me from a distance. His expression darkened, and he began striding toward me. Danger. I stepped into the inn quickly, making for the counter.

The stout, middle-aged woman behind the counter glanced at me briefly before returning to her ledger. I hurried up the stairs, keeping my steps light, and managed to disappear from sight just as the door burst open, followed by the sound of heavy boots.

“Did someone in a hood just come in here?”

The soldier’s voice was harsh and intimidating. The innkeeper answered, feigning surprise.

“Yes, someone did, but they just went out through the back.”

At her words, the soldiers’ boots thundered toward the rear exit. I heard the door open and shut, followed by silence—save for the innkeeper’s steady presence.

“They’re gone,” the innkeeper called softly.

Only then did I dare to move, heading for the room at the very end of the second floor. Though I was safe for now, I couldn’t shake my worry about the Duke. That mountain was known as a natural fortress, impossible to cross. He had reassured us so casually that I had simply nodded, but now doubts gnawed at me. What if he didn’t make it? What if the mountain was far more dangerous than expected?

But my fears proved unfounded.

“…You’re late, Yuraine.”

The Duke was already there, waiting for me.

He didn’t look like someone who had just crossed an impassable mountain. Clad in a black robe that melted into the shadows, his clothes and shoes were spotless—no mud, no grass, not even a scuff. He looked as if he’d just taken a leisurely stroll through the city.

“Were you hurt? Is everything alright?” I asked, scanning him.

“I should be asking you that. Was everything fine?”

For a moment, I hesitated, debating whether to tell him about the knife that had pierced the jar I was hiding in.

“…Yes, everything was fine.”

After all, nothing had happened in the end. The Duke nodded, saying that he too had made it over the mountain without trouble. He might have been omitting some details, just as I had, but what mattered was that we were both safe.

Like protagonists in a story, each overcoming our own perils, we embraced without a word, the relief tangible in the quiet room.

Once our bodies were pressed close, I caught a scent I hadn’t noticed before. It was the smell of wet earth, cold air seeping into thick fabric, the musk of wild animals in hiding, ancient trees, dried grass, and damp decay. It was the lingering scent of the mountain he had traversed—the natural fortress many deemed impassable.

Instinctively, I sniffed lightly, and the Duke let out a soft chuckle.

“Do I smell unpleasant?”

I shook my head.

“Good to know,” he said. “You, on the other hand, smell… sweet and adorable.”

“…”

My face flushed slightly. It was probably the scent of blueberries, since I’d been buried in a jar of them for hours. Trying to explain, I mumbled softly, “Blueberries.”

As soon as the word left my lips, I realized how strange it sounded. It wasn’t much of an explanation, just a random utterance. Yet the Duke understood and smiled, leaning down to press his lips against the nape of my neck. He inhaled deeply, then lifted the collar of my shirt and trailed his lips lower to a spot where the fabric would hide it. Without warning, he bit down.

“Ow!”

I let out a small yelp, startled by the sudden pain. Though he quickly pulled back, the sting lingered. Pressing my hand to the spot, I stared at him with a hint of reproach.

“Sorry,” he said. “You just looked so sweet, I couldn’t resist.”

“Human skin isn’t sweet.”

“Yours is.”

“…Are you planning to eat me alive?”

He laughed heartily but didn’t deny it. Feeling slightly unsettled, I gave him a wary look, which only seemed to amuse him further. Without another word, he leaned in and kissed me. His perfectly shaped lips covered mine, and his warm tongue gently probed, seeking entry. My lips, cold from the journey, contrasted sharply with his warmth. But that was as far as it went.

Knock, knock.

It seemed the refugee “couple” had arrived.

The Duke wiped my lips gently with his thumb before rising to open the door, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. When the door swung open, Lyol and Reia stood in the hallway, looking utterly exhausted in their shabby disguises.

“Did you two eat?” the Duke asked.

“We tried to look as pitiful as possible and haven’t eaten a thing,” Lyol grumbled. Reia, looking beyond weary, staggered to a chair and collapsed into it with a vacant expression.

I hadn’t eaten since we split up yesterday, and the Duke likely hadn’t either after crossing the mountain.

“Let’s eat first,” the Duke suggested.

“I’ll pass,” Reia mumbled weakly, too drained to even think about food. Lyol, however, pulled Reia upright by her shoulders, making her sit properly. For a moment, she glared at him with such venom that it seemed she might kill him with her gaze alone.

It seemed their entry into the capital had been as difficult as I’d imagined.

“Come on,” Lyol coaxed. “You have to eat something. I’ll tell the innkeeper to prepare a meal.”

He left quietly and returned just as discreetly. About five minutes later, the innkeeper brought up a feast: creamy stew sprinkled with pepper, soft bread, roasted fruit, peanut soup, steamed vegetables, mashed potatoes with cream, and even a bottle of wine, water, and fruit juice.

Though I had no appetite moments ago, the aroma of the cooked vegetables was impossible to resist. The Duke noticed my gaze and served me a portion of stew and vegetables, placing the plate before me.

Even Reia, who had been slumped in her chair, straightened up slightly at the sight of food. A silent meal ensued, broken only by the clinking of utensils. Afterward, we each took turns washing up. While Lyol was in the bath, Reia suddenly stared at me intently.

“What is it?” I asked.

Instead of answering, he reached out toward me. His hand moved toward my neck, and I panicked briefly, thinking he might have noticed the Duke’s bite. But instead, he pulled out a squished blueberry from the folds of my clothing.

Reia stared at the fruit in confusion before tossing it into the trash.

“…I hid in a blueberry jar to get past the gate,” I explained sheepishly.

I’d only mentioned the fruit cart before, not the details. Reia muttered under his breath as he discarded the blueberry.

“How charming. Like something out of a fairy tale.”

Classic, I thought. But judging by his exhaustion, whatever method Reia had used to get in must have been even more grueling than nearly being stabbed. Though I wanted to ask what Lyol had done, I held back, knowing I’d only get a cold glare in response.

Once the Duke had finished washing, I took my turn, scrubbing off the sticky juice and changing into clean clothes. Even after using soap, I still carried a faint sweet scent. The memory of the knife plunging into the fruit jar lingered vividly—the sound of squelching fruit and the sight of the blade. I’d come so close to ending my life in such a ridiculous way.

“Yuraine, get some rest, even if it’s just for a while. Reia, you too,” the Duke said.

I glanced at the bed. As soon as the Duke mentioned rest, my recently washed and fed body screamed for sleep. The only issue was that the room had just one bed. Since leaving Isser, none of us had truly rested. We traveled by night, and though it was only early evening now, it was the perfect opportunity to rest.

I hesitated, and Reia seemed to notice.

“Your Grace,” he said, “if you dislike sharing a bed with me, just say so.”

“What? No, I don’t mind.”

“Then it’s fine.”

…Truthfully, I’d hesitated because I thought he might dislike sharing the bed. He was clearly too exhausted to care, dragging himself to the bed and collapsing in a corner. Watching him made me feel even more tired. In the end, I climbed into bed next to him.

The sound of curtains being drawn marked the dimming of the room. A small lamp in the corner cast a faint glow as the Duke and Lyol began talking quietly. Judging by their hushed tones, it was a mix of planning and idle conversation about their journeys into the capital. I wanted to stay awake and listen, but exhaustion lulled me into sleep, their voices fading into a soothing lullaby.

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