I Refuse This Life, Your Highness! - Chapter 50

“Isn’t it still too early?”

“No, I’ve waited long enough.”

A conversation I didn’t fully understand passed between them. Reya’s younger brother… Millen Ail. The current legitimate heir of the Baron of Ceres. And in my previous life, the person who drank my blood and died.

Another person connected to my execution had entered the picture. My chest tightened with fear. And now Reya wanted to bring Millen here?

In my past life, Reya had also brought her brother to the Grand Duke’s estate not long after she arrived. Shortly after that, Millen died, and Reya nearly followed him to the grave.

Yet here she was, invoking promises to bring Millen again.

Ah, right. The Grand Duke had mentioned they were in a “cooperative relationship.” What sort of relationship could it be in this lifetime? If events were to proceed as they had three years from now, would the same tragedy repeat? With the agreed three months nearly over, perhaps it was time to leave. My heart pounded heavily.

“I came to inform you of that. I’ll take my leave now.”

Reya spat out her words and disappeared like the wind. I stared at the door she had exited, then turned to the Grand Duke.

“Your Majesty.”

“…”

“What makes me different from Reya?”

I had wondered the same thing in my past life. What made Reya different from me? Why was she chosen, and I was not? And why, in this life, did you now look at me instead?

The Grand Duke shrugged before answering.

“You are you, and Reya is Reya.”

…Is that so.

Maybe none of it was as complicated as I thought. I cautiously reached out and took his hand. The Grand Duke erased his troubled expression, replacing it with a soft smile.

The winter sunlight was warm and comforting. I shifted slightly under the lemon-colored beams filtering through the tree branches. The Grand Duke’s lips, which had just left mine, returned when I instinctively licked my lips in longing. The rich scent of winter apricots wafted to my nose.

Fully ripened in the heart of winter, the apricots offered a depth of sweetness and aroma beyond the first harvest. The flavor of the shared fruit lingered in our mouths.

It was only after a long while that the Grand Duke finally released me. My clothes and his thick mantle, which served as our makeshift bedding, were thoroughly crumpled. Though parts of my skin were exposed, the warmth we shared made me oblivious to the cold.

I tightened my arms around his neck, and he responded by pulling me closer. Entwined as one, we lay still, listening to the rustling wind and the faint scent of winter apricots drifting from the orchard below.

The winter apricot trees bore fruit for the first time this year. Since the harvest had not yet been fully allocated, the fruit was still exclusive to the Grand Duke’s estate. By the time the season ended, I would undoubtedly grow tired of eating apricots.

The Grand Duke’s gaze rested steadily on me. I met his eyes without flinching. His expression was soft, sweet, and almost intoxicating, much like the aroma of the fruit.

“So, is the tax investigation in Rapport complete?”

“…Why bring up work all of a sudden?”

It was an awkward attempt to break the silence. The question about Rapport—a luxury soap shop where Erma had long accepted bribes and embezzled donation funds—tumbled out unbidden.

“I thought perhaps you might overlook it because you care for Erma so deeply.”

The Grand Duke let out a dry chuckle.

“Hardly. I simply… trusted him too much.”

“I understand. You’ve said you were raised like siblings, after all.”

“It’s not that simple. But… you might not understand just yet. I’ll explain everything when the time comes.”

When the time comes. Again, he deferred with that phrase. I wondered if I would still be by his side when that time finally arrived.

The heart of winter approached, and the three-month mark was drawing near.

Each day slipped by in contemplation of what I should do. Even in moments like this, embraced by the Grand Duke, time continued to pass.

I wanted to stay, to remain at the Grand Duke’s estate. But something told me that if I didn’t leave precisely at the three-month mark, I wouldn’t be able to leave for at least three years.

And in three years, who knew what would happen? The Grand Duke had said he cared for me, but how long would that affection last? Reya was already here at the estate, and her intentions remained unclear. At any moment, his feelings could shift back to her.

Reya had even spoken of bringing her brother here. She mentioned a promise I didn’t understand, and the Grand Duke’s hesitation confirmed its importance. If Millen Ail came to the estate, wouldn’t it increase the likelihood of my past life repeating itself?

I couldn’t allow that. I couldn’t make the same mistakes again. Only a fool would do so.

I couldn’t afford to be foolish anymore.

“Your Majesty.”

The Grand Duke responded by brushing a kiss against my cheek.

“About Reya’s brother,” I began hesitantly.

“…”

“You’ll allow him to come to the estate, won’t you?”

I had intended to phrase it as a question, but the way his expression shifted told me the decision had already been made. The Grand Duke, after a brief pause, nodded.

Truthfully, Millen Ail was not a good person.

To Reya, however, he was probably what Erma was to me—a deeply rooted presence. Millen Ail had been raised as the legitimate heir of the Baron of Ceres, just as his mother, Elia Ail, had lived as the baron’s official wife.

But originally, the Baron of Ceres had a first wife, Mersenne Ail. After Mersenne disappeared, Elia entered the household as a concubine and gave birth to Millen.

Mersenne had suffered from a mild mental illness. One day, during an episode, she wandered away and never returned. The baron, already engaged in an affair with Elia, didn’t put much effort into searching for her.

Mersenne, having lost her memory during her episode, ended up in a stranger’s home, where she was cared for until she died giving birth to Reya. On her deathbed, with her final breath, she declared, This child belongs to the Baron of Ceres.

The couple who had cared for Mersenne believed that the child would have a better life being raised at the Baron of Ceres’ estate. Of course, unaware of Mersenne’s true identity, they assumed she was just a woman from the streets and told the Baron the child was his illegitimate offspring.

The Baron of Ceres, infamous for his womanizing, took one look at the baby’s features—her face, eyes, and hair—and acknowledged her as his child, bringing her into his household.

Elia, however, knew the truth. She had met the couple first and recognized the necklace the baby carried. It was Mersenne’s, left with the child as her dying wish. Knowing that revealing the child’s true identity could disrupt the line of succession, Elia chose silence. The necklace was hidden deep in her drawer, out of sight.

Thus, Reya grew up as the Baron’s illegitimate child, enduring Elia and Millen’s torment.

As I thought about it, a question began to gnaw at me. Millen, who had tormented her relentlessly—why was Reya so desperate to bring him to the Grand Duke’s estate?

“Your Majesty, why does Reya want to bring her brother here?” I asked.

“…That’s something I can’t tell you yet. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine.”

At that moment, the absurd thought struck me that if the Grand Duke had ears and a tail, they would have drooped in regret. He looked more despondent than I felt.

“I promise to explain everything later.”

“It’s alright.”

After saying later, the Grand Duke paused, perhaps reminded of the three-month agreement between us. He carefully stroked my hair.

“Uraine, the time we agreed on is almost here.”

“…Yes.”

“Do you want to return to Airdren?”

“…”

I stared up at him. His golden eyes, usually bright, seemed darkened—not just by the shadows, but by something deeper. They reminded me of the strong liquor he drank to fall asleep.

“Your Majesty,” I began.

He nodded, silently encouraging me to continue.

The back of my neck tingled. Did I want to return? Not now, of course. But I was afraid. Afraid of the dangling bodies of my family, lifeless and swaying. Afraid of myself, kneeling at the guillotine, watching it all unfold. The memory of the blade slicing my neck, the sensation of it—it was all too vivid, too terrifying.

“What would you do,” I asked, “if someone tried to kill the person you loved?”

In my past life, what had he thought of me, the one who tried to harm Reya? His words at the last moment, holding my severed head, had been strange, but it didn’t change the fact that he had said or done something that led to my swift execution.

“Anyone who tries to harm you wouldn’t be left alive.”

His large hand caressed my cheek.

“But what if… what if I’m not the one you love?”

“Why would you think that?”

The Grand Duke tilted his head, genuinely puzzled.

“It’s always been you. From the very beginning, it was you.”

I couldn’t help but smile faintly at his words.

“‘Always’ feels like such a short time, doesn’t it?”

The Grand Duke chuckled softly in response, leaning in to press a light kiss to my lips. I accepted it willingly, though the thought of the looming end to our agreement lingered in the back of my mind, refusing to be erased.

In a dark room where even the curtains had been meticulously drawn, Erma sat hunched over, staring into an opulent crystal orb. The orb was the only source of light, casting an eerie glow that seemed to deepen the surrounding darkness rather than dispel it.

The dim illumination made the shadows grow heavier, swallowing the room in ominous gloom. Erma, crouched before the orb, answered softly in a chilling voice.

“Yes, yes…”

Inside the orb, the faint outline of a figure flickered in and out of view, appearing as though submerged in thick mist. Both the person within and the one speaking seemed shrouded in an unsettling aura.

Erma’s murmurs were low and indistinct, barely audible even in the stillness of the room. The voice emanating from the orb was even quieter, an incomprehensible whisper.

“…Yes.”

With that final utterance, the light in the orb abruptly vanished. For a moment, Erma sat silently, staring at the now-darkened crystal. Then, he carefully concealed it before rising slowly to his feet. Every trace of him was cloaked in the room’s oppressive darkness, his form blending seamlessly into the shadows like an apparition.

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