I Refuse This Life, Your Highness! - Chapter 62

The Duke looked slightly displeased. Walking past Riol and Reia, he approached me and placed his hand lightly on the back of my chair.

“You look tired, Bi. Shall we retire for the night?”

Ryol wore an amused expression, Reya remained indifferent, and across the table, Sir Leon was stifling a laugh as he observed us. When I turned to look at him, he quickly pretended to know nothing. Meanwhile, the Count continued sipping his drink quietly, as though nothing unusual had happened.

It was a perfect opportunity. I quickly rose from my seat.

“Feel free to enjoy yourselves as much as you’d like,” the Duke said.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Ryol replied with a grin.

Before the Duke had even finished speaking, Reya stood and left through the opposite exit. Her dark-blonde hair and the hem of her dress fluttered briefly before she disappeared from sight.

Ryol watched her go with a hint of disappointment, then casually drank the sweet cocktail she had left behind. Come to think of it, that had been Reya’s favorite drink. Judging by the way Ryol had taken her seat, it seemed he and the others had no intention of leaving anytime soon.

The Duke lightly held my hand and urged me along. Feigning reluctance, I followed him out of the dining hall. As soon as we entered my bedroom, the tension of the day began to melt away. Bohenn and Resilla hurried forward to attend to our clothes.

After bathing and changing into more comfortable attire, I returned to find the Duke seated on the sofa, his legs crossed, sipping something. Curious, I glanced at the glass in his hand, wondering if it was alcohol. As if anticipating my question, the Duke tilted the glass slightly, revealing its contents—a clear, pale-green iced tea.

“…Shall I have some alcohol brought for you?” I asked.

“Didn’t you just tell me to stick to tea?” he retorted.

“That’s because it seemed like you were drinking too much, Your Highness.”

The Duke gestured for me to come closer. Without hesitation, I walked over and sat beside him. He brought the glass to my lips, and I drank several gulps, my thirst from the bath getting the better of me.

“I don’t need alcohol to fall asleep anymore,” he said suddenly.

“What do you mean?” I asked, puzzled.

“I used to drink myself into oblivion so I could pass out. That way, I wouldn’t…” He trailed off, his gaze steady.

“Wouldn’t what?” I pressed, though his silence made the answer clear.

The implications hit me like a bolt of lightning. If he hadn’t been drinking, what would he have done instead? And now that he wasn’t drinking, what did that mean?

My face burned crimson.

“Ah, so you do understand now,” he said with a sly smile.

Before I could respond, the Duke swept me into his arms. The sound of the attendants closing the door behind them only heightened my embarrassment.

“Reya, about the inventory records we discussed earlier…”

“They’re done,” Reya said, handing me a neatly bundled stack of documents tied with string. The records detailed the quantities of fabric, needles, and thread used in the sewing room over the past two years. I had only mentioned the task in passing an hour ago and had even planned to tell her to take her time. Yet here was the completed report.

Choosing Reya as my deputy had been an excellent decision. She was intelligent, efficient, and well-versed in the responsibilities of a lord’s wife. Her sharp mind allowed her to locate and organize information with remarkable speed.

Tasks that would usually take until dusk to complete were already near completion. Just as I was marveling at her efficiency, Sir Leon returned from the archives carrying an armful of books—heavy, leather-bound volumes that he held as effortlessly as if they were feathers.

“Where should I put these, Your Excellency?”

“Over here,” I said, gesturing toward Reya’s desk. The books were for her work, not mine. Leon strode over and placed the stack on her desk. However, his silent approach seemed to catch her off guard. As Reya turned, her arm nearly knocked into the stack of books.

“Careful.”

Leon reacted swiftly, pulling her arm aside while steadying the books with his body.

“…”

Reya found herself briefly caught in his arms. Her cheeks flushed slightly before she pushed him away and stepped back.

“My apologies. It was instinct,” Leon said, raising his hands in mock surrender. He even gave her a playful wink. Strangely, despite the lightheartedness of his actions, they didn’t feel as irritating as Ryol’s antics often did.

Leon’s family troubles had delayed his knighthood, but the Duke had mentioned that he would soon inherit the title of Count. As a Count, he wouldn’t be an unworthy match for Reya…

What am I even thinking?

I shook my head, dismissing the absurd thought, and cleared my throat. Leon and Reya, startled back to reality, returned to their respective tasks. For a while, the only sound in the room was the scratching of pens on paper.

At precisely 2 PM, Resilla entered with tea and refreshments. Though prepared for three, Sir Leon declined to join.

“I’ll step out and have a word with the guards,” he said.

“Go ahead,” I replied.

Reya, who had been glancing at him nervously, visibly relaxed the moment he left the room. It seemed he unsettled her. Or perhaps… No, I shook the thought away. There was no need to meddle unnecessarily in someone else’s affairs.

Silence enveloped the room as the tea was served.

Neither Reya nor I were particularly talkative by nature, so this was unsurprising. If Sir Leon had stayed, he might have kept the conversation going with his usual lively chatter.

“…Millen,” Reya suddenly spoke, breaking the stillness. The unexpected mention of her younger brother’s name made me look up. She sighed before continuing.

“I cooperated with His Highness because I wanted to kill Millen. If possible, I’d like to kill Elia—my stepmother—as well.”

“I see,” I replied evenly.

Although I’d spoken with Reya a few times in past lives, we had never delved into such personal topics. From the third life onward, Reya had clearly disliked me, though I wasn’t sure about the second life.

“An illegitimate child, an indifferent father, and a stepmother who knows I’m the trueborn son of the first wife. Not exactly an ideal environment, wouldn’t you agree?”

“…I’m sorry to hear that,” I said sincerely.

Reya glanced at me briefly before lowering her gaze to her teacup. My words had been genuine, and it seemed she recognized that.

“I fought with Millen once—no, many times. I was seriously injured during those fights.”

“Many times? Then why…” I hesitated. “Why didn’t you avoid him after the first?”

Reya nodded slightly, anticipating the question.

“For some reason, the timing kept shifting earlier. It was as if the more I tried to avoid him, the sooner those incidents occurred.”

“Even in this life?”

“No. For the first time, His Highness came for me before anything could happen.”

“…”

I couldn’t bring myself to say I was glad. She had already endured that ordeal six times. I didn’t know how badly she’d been hurt, but the pallor of her face as she spoke suggested it had been worse than what I had endured in previous lives.

“It’s ironic, isn’t it? I’m the one who used magic, yet I couldn’t avoid reliving such misery over and over again.”

“I’m sorry.”

“…It’s not your fault, Bi. But I can’t help hating you. Isn’t that fair?”

I lowered my gaze, unable to argue. Reya’s resentment toward me and the Duke was entirely justified.

“You always talked about how much your family loved you, so I doubt you can understand what it’s like when family is the root of your suffering.”

Reya’s teal-green eyes, shadowed with sorrow, fixed on me. They seemed to pull me into an endless abyss. Her grief was contagious, and I felt myself sinking alongside her.

“…Yes,” I murmured finally.

Reya’s gaze didn’t waver.

“Exactly. My family loves me. Of course.”

We both knew that wasn’t true. Reya’s words were laced with bitter sarcasm. For a moment, we sat in silence, staring at each other. Eventually, she poured out the cold tea and refilled her cup, restoring the room’s previous atmosphere. I took a sip of the warm tea, feeling slightly better.

“Reya, you seem uncomfortable around Sir Leon,” I said.

“Ah… I find all people uncomfortable. It’s worse when they try to get close to me.”

“…”

“Still, Sir Leon is better than Ryol Manas,” Reya added, her expression souring.

“You know him?”

“We met once. It wasn’t pleasant. We didn’t meet in any of the past lives, though.”

I couldn’t disagree. While I didn’t hate Ryol, he did have a way of rubbing people the wrong way.

“True. Sir Leon is far better than Ryol,” I said with a faint smile.

Reya chuckled softly. Though it carried a hint of bitterness, it was the first time I’d seen her smile in this life. There was something childlike about her expression that made me want to offer her a treat. Pushing the plate of cookies toward her, I was pleased to see her smile again—this time, faint but genuine.

“Resilla, is Sir Leon still outside? It must be cold,” I said.

“Shall I call him in?” she asked.

I nodded, and she hurried out. A short while later, she returned alone.

“Did he refuse to come inside?”

“No, Your Excellency. He isn’t outside. The guards said he left immediately after stepping out.”

“Where did he go?”

Resilla shook her head, unsure. Where could he have gone in such a short time? Reya glanced toward the door, looking puzzled. Just then, two knocks echoed, and the door opened cautiously.

“Is your tea time over?” Sir Leon asked, standing in the doorway.

“Almost,” I replied. “But where have you been?”

Leon tilted his head slightly, his hands clasped behind his back.

“Where else? I’ve been running an errand, of course.”

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