I Refuse This Life, Your Highness! - Chapter 41

The blade of the guillotine cut into the back of my neck. The thick, cold sensation of metal was both chilling and surreal. Srrk. Or maybe thud. A sound that words could not fully capture echoed in my ears. It was the sound of my neck being severed.

Thankfully, the clean cut sent my head tumbling into a filthy bucket stained with the blood of other criminals before me. Through my blurred vision, I saw the sky. I couldn’t fully grasp the reality of my body being separate from my head. I only felt a strange absurdity at being inside such a small container.

The voices of the crowd…

The overcast sky…

The metallic stench of blood…

My dulling consciousness.

“What… did you say you saw?”

“I’m sorry for saying something so horrifying, but I saw a memory of Your Majesty ascending the guillotine.”

“How… how did it appear?”

“When I see memories, it happens in an instant—just a second, maybe a few at most. In that brief moment… Your Majesty’s execution was carried out.”

“…”

“Sometimes, nightmares can be so vivid that they seem like real memories. Do you recall having such a dream?”

“…”

“It’s also possible for me to see memories even if the person has forgotten them themselves.”

The Countess, trying to make sense of something inexplicable, offered several theories. None of them were correct. What the Countess saw was the most intense memory of my past life—one I had truly experienced.

What could leave a deeper scar than the moment of one’s own execution?

“Could you… lend me your hand for a moment?”

I obediently extended my hand. The Countess took it, lowering her gaze. A faint warmth seemed to emanate from her touch, and soon, my hand was enveloped in a soft, silvery light.

I felt a slight sense of relief. This must be her magic. The Countess glanced at me, tilting her head slightly.

“How do you feel now?”

“I feel… a little calmer.”

“Hmm…”

The Countess released my hand and walked to the door, asking Ressily, who had been waiting nearby, to bring fresh tea. She said nothing further until Ressily returned with tea and refreshments and quietly left again.

“I believe Your Majesty may have a natural resistance to magic.”

“Is that even possible?”

“It’s rare, but it happens.”

I silently sipped the warm tea. Thinking back to my time on the guillotine unsettled me once more. Judging by her words, it seemed the Countess’s magic had only a limited effect on me. My hands and feet felt cold, and I cupped the teacup with both hands.

“Countess… can you see everyone’s memories?”

“Of course not. I can only see the most intense memories—ones the individual deeply wishes to be acknowledged.”

“Memories that one wishes to be acknowledged…”

Had I unconsciously wanted someone to recognize my death? The thought left me feeling conflicted.

“I don’t know if it’s about acknowledgment, but I did have a dream. It was terrible, really. The sensations were so vivid that it didn’t feel like a dream at all.”

As I spoke, I touched my neck with one hand. Labeling it a dream would ensure the Countess didn’t think too deeply about it. Honestly, I wanted to believe it was just a dream, too—all the memories of my past life.

“Dreams often reflect the mind. Your Majesty, if you’re under emotional strain, I can use my magic on you daily before we begin our lessons.”

“But isn’t my resistance to magic an issue?”

“Even so, it’s not entirely ineffective. You did feel somewhat calmer just now, didn’t you?”

I nodded. The Countess’s magic had indeed soothed me to some degree. Without it, I might have experienced dizziness or a panic attack when the guillotine was mentioned.

“That would be appreciated.”

“It would be an honor. Shall we begin our lessons, then?”

As I adjusted my position, I nearly spilled my tea. I caught it just in time and glanced at the Countess, who looked at me as though nothing was out of the ordinary. Normally, someone might suggest taking a break after such an incident. Not her.

The Countess was as strict as ever.

In the fireplace-lit parlor, the young Duke and his vassal, the Countess, sat facing each other. The Countess sipped her tea before speaking.

“Her Majesty is extraordinarily intelligent. If I explain one concept, she grasps all the related ideas with ease. However…”

“However?”

“She seems excessively hard on herself. For instance, if she can’t memorize a page after reading it once, she considers it a failure.”

“…I’m not sure if that’s praiseworthy or concerning.”

The Duke let out a brief sigh. His wife, Uraine, was overly cautious in general. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of treatment she’d endured at home. Judging by her brothers’ attitudes and Uraine’s behavior, he could guess.

“And there’s one thing that concerns me the most…”

“Did something happen?”

“Yes. Today, I caught a glimpse of Her Majesty’s memories.”

The Duke leaned in slightly. He knew the Countess’s magic allowed her to see memories, but only exceptionally intense ones. He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of memory had left such a strong impression on Uraine.

“It might have been a dream, but… Your Majesty seemed to have a memory of being executed by guillotine.”

“…”

At that moment, the Duke nearly dropped the glass he was holding. The atmosphere grew oppressively heavy in an instant.

“…Countess.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Don’t breathe a word of this to anyone. And… don’t bring it up to Her Grace again.”

“Of course, I will keep it in confidence.”

The Countess bowed her head.

The winter garden of the ducal castle was planted with hawthorns and nandinas, their vivid red berries and leaves resembling flowers even in the depths of winter. When the Duke first suggested a walk, it felt awkward, but the dry, cold air and serene garden gradually eased my nerves.

“They’re still working on refining the wolf pelt. You’ll be able to wear it soon enough.”

“Oh…”

He was talking about the blue wolf caught during the last hunting competition. Properly tanning wolf pelts usually took three months, but I wondered if he’d been pressuring the craftsman to hurry.

Still, what puzzled me more was the meaning behind this sudden walk.

Leiya was still in the castle but hadn’t stepped outside her room. She didn’t even show herself at dinner. Unless the Duke invited her to a banquet, I doubted I’d see her at all. It was utterly baffling.

The only sound between us was the soft crunch of our steps on the ground. A bird fluttered to a branch heavy with crimson nandina leaves and berries, paused briefly, then flew off. The sight broke the silence, prompting me to speak.

“Your Majesty.”

“Mm.”

“…Do you remember?”

It wasn’t an impulsive question. I’d been wondering for a while if I should confirm it—whether the Duke remembered his past life. But I knew I had to tread carefully. If I misspoke, he might think I’d gone mad.

“Remember what?”

“Do you remember what I…”

How should I phrase this?

“What I’ll wear to the next banquet?”

“…”

The Duke’s expression turned peculiar. I tried to read his face, searching for meaning, but his features remained inscrutable, his golden eyes offering no hints. After a long pause, as the sound of the wind passed like a murmuring forest spirit, he finally spoke.

“Her Grace has an odd way of speaking.”

“…”

“Isn’t predicting what you’ll wear at the next banquet a matter of speculation, not memory?”

His response was enough to interpret as a denial.

“…I misspoke.”

“A curious slip of the tongue. Are you sure there’s no meaning behind it?”

“None whatsoever.”

I wondered if perhaps the Duke did remember his past life. The thought lingered because of the expression he’d worn in those final moments before my death—it remained vividly etched in my mind.

“Ah, is this about the silk?”

“Pardon?”

“The Rasnus silk. I promised it to you but haven’t given it yet, have I?”

“…”

I froze, dumbfounded. That was entirely unexpected. Worse, it made it seem like I’d been pestering him for it!

“No! That’s absolutely, positively not what I meant! I swear, not at all!”

For the first time in a while, my voice rose as I vehemently denied it. I shook my head so vigorously that my hair became slightly disheveled. The Duke, startled by my outburst, burst into laughter.

“Haha. You’re… truly something. It was a joke. I know you’d never ask for something like that.”

“…”

What was that? Was he teasing me? My shoulders slumped. I realized my question earlier had been ridiculous, and I regretted asking it. The Duke wasn’t the type to let such a question slide as a “mere slip of the tongue.” If he truly didn’t remember, he might eventually pick up on something strange about my words.

“You’re cruel, Your Majesty…”

I muttered, expressing a small protest. The Duke raised his hands in mock surrender, a faint smile on his lips. With no further argument, I turned my head away sharply.

“…”

The Duke’s attitude was ambiguous. His denial seemed genuine, but could he really not remember? If he didn’t, then why was he so kind to me? After all, this was the same man who had sworn to divorce me after three months of sharing a bedroom.

Now, less than two months remained.

That thought led to a plausible conclusion. Perhaps he was being kind simply because the end was near. Perhaps he was treating me nicely out of consideration, knowing I’d eventually step aside for Leiya, who was already here in the castle.

But then again…

Even if that were the case, would kindness extend to…

…a kiss?

I couldn’t make sense of it. My hands nearly reached for my hair to tug at it in frustration, but I stopped myself, lost in confusion.

The Duke let out a short sigh and asked, “You look like you’re falling apart.”

“I am… Your Majesty, why on earth…”

“Why what?”

“Why did you kiss me?”

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