I Refuse This Life, Your Highness! - Chapter 114

“Mo… money! Of course, it’s about money, what else could it be…!”

“…”

Yuraine’s shoulders slumped. Such a trivial reason. It wasn’t ideological differences, rebellion, or anything grand—just money. If that were true, there wasn’t much to worry about.

“How many are outside?”

“Five…”

“And the mastermind?”

“There… isn’t one…”

…If that was true, it presented another problem. The Duchess of Airdren had been kidnapped by a group of only six people whose sole motive was money and had no one orchestrating them. This fact must never be revealed to the outside world, no matter what.

Then perhaps it’s better to handle everything here…

Yuraine shook his head at the thought. There could still be a hidden mastermind. Everything needed to be thoroughly investigated. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps grew louder as the commotion inside seemed to have caught the others’ attention.

Summoning a small cluster of venom, Yuraine corroded the ropes binding his wrists until they snapped. Flexing his now-free hands, he turned toward the door. On the floor, black masses coalesced into the form of long serpents, slithering into existence.

The kidnappers burst through the door but froze in horror at the sight of the snakes. They were paralyzed, unable to act, as the serpents coiled around them, holding them in place.

Anyone familiar with the underground world would recognize the faintly sweet and unsettling scent of poison. The kidnappers’ faces turned pale.

“W-what is this…?”

It was no secret that the Duchess of Airdren, an heir of the Airdren family, could wield poison. The family’s reputation for killing with venom was well known. But the ability to wield poison with such precision and control was something only a rare few understood. It was no wonder the kidnappers were utterly panicked at the sight of snakes formed entirely of venom constricting their bodies.

Yuraine stood tall, looking down at them. Though his hair was disheveled and his clothing slightly untidy, his dignity and presence remained unshaken.

“You said there is no mastermind. Then who is your leader?”

The kidnappers, intimidated by the presence of the one they underestimated as merely a Lamia, exchanged uneasy glances. Finally, their gazes landed on the burly man sitting furthest to the left.

“Did you truly do all this just for money?”

“…”

“Answer me.”

The burly man gritted his teeth, glaring at Yuraine. His eyes were filled with anger and resentment. The venomous snake slithered closer, brushing its scaled body against his cheek. The man shuddered violently as a chill ran down his spine.

“…You’re just a damned Lamia…”

Yuraine shrugged at the man’s insult. He had suspected their motives weren’t so simple. It was all too predictable, almost boring. Many couldn’t tolerate the way Yuraine conducted himself—more like an ordinary duchess or duke consort than what they expected of a Lamia. People like his maternal family had refused to acknowledge Lamias as people, let alone equals.

“Very well. But having started this, you must be prepared to pay the price.”

The snakes opened their mouths wide, the growing intensity of the venomous scent eliciting groans and screams. Yuraine calmly tied back his hair and adjusted his clothes before turning his back on them.

“P-please, Your Grace, spare us!”

“Mercy! We’ll never do it again!”

“I was only following orders!”

Ah, I forgot to silence them.

The number of snakes increased, and soon, the cacophony of pleas turned into silence. The snakes merely gagged them—they weren’t dead. These men were both criminals and witnesses, and their confessions would be vital to uncovering the truth. It wasn’t Yuraine’s job to extract information; someone else would handle that.

The shed he had been locked in was part of a modest house. Stepping outside, Yuraine squinted at the fiery red sunlight. It wasn’t difficult to determine his location—thankfully, they weren’t far from Romar.

After walking through the forest path for a short while, Yuraine reached a nearby village. By then, he realized the kidnappers had taken everything of value on him. Still, he managed to sell his belt for enough money to rent a messenger pigeon and a horse. He sent one pigeon to the ducal estate and the other to Romar, then waited.

Fortunately, there was still enough daylight for the messenger pigeons to travel. The one sent to Romar returned quickly. Unrolling the letter tied to the pigeon’s leg, Yuraine’s eyes flickered as he read the message.

“I’ll come to you. Wait for me.”

It was written in Isis’s handwriting. The original words, “Come to Romar,” had been scratched out. He’d intended for Yuraine to come to him but couldn’t wait. A chuckle escaped Yuraine’s lips, but his eyes grew misty.

After returning the rented horse, Yuraine made his way to the village entrance. By the time the blazing sun had fully set and stars dotted the sky, a figure appeared in the distance. A man on horseback urged his steed forward at a breakneck pace. Upon spotting Yuraine, he rode even faster.

Finally reaching him, the man leapt from his horse and enveloped Yuraine in a tight embrace.

He was covered in dust, even more so than Yuraine. His gloved hands roamed over Yuraine’s face, hair, shoulders, and back, inspecting for injuries. When he found the marks left by the ropes on Yuraine’s wrists, his golden eyes flared with anger.

“I’m fine, Your Majesty.”

“I can’t trust you when you say that,” Isis replied, his voice tinged with dissatisfaction.

Yuraine smiled softly at his response.

“Then check for yourself.”

“I’ll do so thoroughly when we return to the castle.”

Isis kissed Yuraine’s cheek, helped him onto the horse, and mounted behind him. This time, the horse moved at a much slower pace along the path they had come. Holding Yuraine tightly by the waist, Isis asked a series of questions: what had happened, whether he was hurt, and if there had been any real danger. Yuraine recounted the events of the day, step by step. When he mentioned entering the unstable building because he was lighter, he received a mild scolding.

“And then I used poison to subdue them before contacting you immediately.”

“My duchess is brave and remarkable indeed.”

“It was the natural thing to do…”

“Few people could act as you did in that situation. …Thank you for returning safely.”

Yuraine blushed and lowered his head. Thank you for returning safely. It was the first time he’d heard those words from Isis. Knowing there was someone who appreciated his safety filled him with a warmth that strengthened his heart.

“Your Majesty thanks me so often,” Yuraine murmured.

“Do I?”

“You’ve thanked me more in this short time than I’ve heard my whole life.”

The arm around Yuraine’s waist tightened at those words. The horse paused, coming to a gentle halt. Curious, Yuraine turned to look behind him, only to find Isis leaning in to kiss him. On that cool night, Isis’s lips were warm as they pressed against his. The kiss deepened until their breaths grew heavy, parting reluctantly. Still so close their lips nearly touched, Isis whispered softly.

“There is no one in this world as precious as you.”

If words had a temperature, these would be as warm as sunlight. The cold wind seemed to retreat in their presence. Yuraine reached out, cupping Isis’s cheek, and replied in kind.

“And there is no one in this world as precious as you.”

“That’s reassuring.”

They shared a smile and kissed once more.

Aftermath

Officially, it was announced that the Duchess had been found in the rubble of the collapsed building. Although Yuraine had returned swiftly, the mere occurrence of a kidnapping at such a delicate time could have far-reaching consequences. Given that Yuraine was a Lamia, the incident could easily spiral into unwanted rumors.

Of the two workers who had entered the building with Yuraine, one was found safe, while the other was reported missing. It was unsurprising—the missing worker was part of the kidnappers’ group.

The captors Yuraine had subdued were quietly transported to the ducal underground prison, where they were now undergoing interrogation under Sir Leon’s supervision. Whether there was a mastermind behind them would soon be revealed.

Meanwhile, Yuraine, despite insisting he was fine, had to undergo a thorough medical examination from the palace physicians.

“I’m truly fine. Other than my wrists, I wasn’t hurt anywhere.”

“Do you want me to examine you myself?”

Isis’s tone was serious, leaving Yuraine no choice but to comply and wait for the physicians. Three palace doctors swarmed him, examining everything from the smallest scratch to his nails. They took samples of his blood and hair and inspected his eyes and mouth. The process, including the time needed for the herbs and blood tests to react, took an entire day.

During this time, Yuraine, confined to bed, fell into a deep sleep. Although he had insisted he was fine, the kidnapping had clearly taken a greater toll on him than he realized, both physically and mentally.

The next day, the chief physician arrived with the results. Yuraine was in bed, and Isis sat beside him to hear the report. From the moment the physician entered, he seemed oddly flustered. Isis frowned.

“What is it? Is there something wrong?”

“No, Your Majesty…”

The physician, sweating profusely, wiped his brow and bowed deeply. Upon closer inspection, he wasn’t so much distressed as he was excited.

“Her Grace is unharmed and in perfect health. And so is the child in her womb.”

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