I Refuse This Life, Your Highness! - Chapter 66

‘…….’

I blinked blankly for a moment before bowing politely to the Emperor. After three dances, I was exhausted.

As the Emperor returned to his seat, everyone else followed suit, heading to their designated tables for the meal.

My seat was at a small two-person table near the Emperor, while Ryol was seated slightly further away at a single-person table. Count Kiara’s seat was further back, among the tables assigned to dukes and marquesses. Even the so-called single-person tables had additional chairs set around them, making it rare for anyone to sit completely alone.

The moment Count Kiara sat down, a group of scholars—clearly waiting for the opportunity—rushed to join her table. Meanwhile, Ryol’s table filled with ladies he had presumably invited.

As for me, I moved toward the table reserved for the Duke and Duchess of Iserre, as it couldn’t be left empty. I intended to sit alone, but my family decided to leave their table and join me.

It wasn’t unwelcome, but it felt odd. Why were my parents being so attentive today? Their tone had been uncharacteristically soft and gentle all evening.

Soon, servants began bringing out the food. However, at imperial banquets, there was a strong belief that eating heartily was unbecoming. Most attendees merely tasted the dishes, leaving the bulk of the food untouched. Water and wine, on the other hand, were consumed quickly.

“Thanks be to the gods. And blessings upon all gathered here,” the Emperor proclaimed, raising a glass of wine from the year of his birth.

Everyone lifted their glasses with both hands, bowed their heads slightly, and brought the rims to their lips. The rich, astringent aroma of the aged wine filled my mouth instantly. Thirty-four years old. Even counting generously, this wine was far older than me, and its flavor was exquisite.

After the meal—which, as expected, went largely untouched—ended with dessert, the orchestra began performing a lengthy piece composed specifically to celebrate the Emperor’s birthday. The piece, which lasted well over an hour, was undeniably grand and flawless.

“What a sophisticated and magnificent composition. What do you think, Yuraine?”

“Ah, yes. It’s absolutely beautiful,” I replied, startled by my mother’s question.

To my surprise, she smiled.

“Yuraine has always had a good ear for music,” she remarked.

“Far better than ours,” my father agreed, with Rvien chiming in as well.

‘……?’

Their words left me bewildered. Openly praising me was such a rare occurrence that I could count the times it had happened on one hand. And to be praised for something like musical appreciation? Still, I couldn’t deny that it made me happy.

A strange sense of joy rippled through me, like gentle waves. If not for Reseon’s unusual silence tonight, everything would have felt perfect. The fine wine, the music created for such an esteemed occasion—it was all exceptional.

I was quietly tilting my glass when Reseon suddenly reached over and tapped it with his finger.

“Aren’t you drinking a bit too much?”

“I’m not. I always drink about this much. I eat more than you anyway,” I replied.

“Even so,” he muttered, his tone uncharacteristically grim.

What’s gotten into him tonight? I tilted my head in confusion and glanced at the rest of my family. Everyone else seemed to be in good spirits, and their cheerfulness was infectious.

After the long performance concluded, the next event began: the announcement of pardons for prisoners, in honor of the Emperor’s birthday. At the Emperor’s signal, an official standing nearby unfurled a long scroll.

The recitation of names began—one after another, a cascade of unfamiliar names. I paid little attention until a name I recognized broke through the haze of monotony.

“Erma of Iserre.”

‘…….’

My head tilted slightly. Oh, Erma was pardoned.

I noticed Ryol glancing at me from his nearby seat, his expression questioning. What was he expecting from me? I blinked at him before turning away. If Erma had been pardoned, so be it.

“Yuraine, are you all right?” Rvien asked.

“What? Why?”

“You look pale. You seem tired. His Majesty has granted permission for you to leave early. Shall we head home?”

“Home?”

The idea sounded wonderful. Home meant Lise and Feya, and I could finally shed this uncomfortable outfit. I nodded quickly, and Rvien and Reseon moved as if I were an ailing patient, each supporting me on either side. My parents followed closely behind.

I wanted to tell them I didn’t need their support, but when I tried walking on my own, I realized it wasn’t an option. For some reason, my body felt unusually heavy…

Hazy violet eyes appeared clouded, as though veiled by mist. Long, golden lashes drooped listlessly, and her lips parted faintly in an expression of dazed incomprehension. The languid look on her face, as if she were half-asleep, lent an air of melancholy and fragility to Yuraine’s beauty. Yet, there was no trace of vitality.

Her slight frame, draped only in a thin nightgown and robe, looked cold and fragile. A large fireplace blazed in the corner, and braziers placed around the room emitted a comforting warmth, but Yuraine Sierre seemed as if she were lost in a frigid snowstorm.

“…Yuraine,” a voice called softly.

“…….”

“Yuraine, can you hear me?”

“Ah.”

Slowly, Yuraine lifted her head at Rvien’s call, a faint smile gracing her lips.

“Yes, I hear you, big brother.”

“Are you in pain?”

“No, I’m not in pain.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat dinner?”

“I’m fine. I don’t need it.”

Though she answered, her words were hollow, as if she were parroting a response. Her soft smile didn’t waver as she curled into herself, as though trying to ward off the cold.

“If you’re cold, pull the blankets up higher,” Rvien said gently.

“Yes.”

Finally, Yuraine shuffled deeper under the blankets. His movements were noticeably slow and strange. Though they had been warned in advance about the conditioning’s effects, seeing it firsthand left an odd feeling in the pit of Rvien’s stomach. After gently tucking the blanket up to Yuraine’s chin, Rvien watched his brother for a moment.

“Thank you, Brother,” Yuraine murmured, his eyes half-closed, a faint smile on his lips.

Rvien said nothing as he left the room. The heavy door shut with a resounding thud as he pulled the chains on either side of the doorknob, securing them with a lock. Still in his formal attire from the banquet, Rvien made his way down the hallway, his cloak trailing behind like a shadow.

For the sake of the family, there was no other choice.

The Airedren family had been living as subdued shadows for three generations. The oath their grandfather had sworn to the imperial family bound them like chains, stifling the family’s aspirations. Now, at long last, there was an opportunity to break free and bring Airedren back into the capital’s spotlight.

When Yuraine was born and revealed to be the heir of magical power, Rvien couldn’t understand it. Why was the youngest—a lamia—chosen instead of him, the eldest?

Lamia were surrounded by prejudice. As a child, Rvien had absorbed the same biases that filled the household, and he treated lamia with disdain.

Their parents had amplified this disdain. They were uncomfortable—perhaps even resentful—that the magical inheritance had skipped their elder sons to manifest in their lamia child. In aristocratic society, even legitimate younger children were often treated as less important. For a lamia, it was far worse.

Yuraine had become the scapegoat of the family.

At first, Rvien and Reseon disliked Yuraine as much as their parents did. But over time, pity began to seep in. Their youngest sibling, still so young and innocent, bore the brunt of their parents’ ire. He was punished, denied education, and forbidden from pursuing his interests. Seeing this, the two elder brothers began to treat him more kindly.

But was that kindness genuine familial love? Even Rvien couldn’t say for sure. If Yuraine had been a distant relative or a neighbor’s child, he likely would have acted the same.

Rvien turned a corner and entered a breezy colonnade. The summer villa, with its open spaces and large windows, was ill-suited for winter. But it was the most secluded and little-known of their estates—a necessary choice.

Crossing the colonnade, Rvien entered another hallway and descended a long staircase. Three floors down, a grand door came into view—the entrance to the villa’s main hall.

Reseon stood by the doorway, arms crossed, his face clouded with thought.

“What are you doing here?” Rvien asked.

“…….”

Reseon lifted his head slowly, his expression heavy with conflict.

“Brother, I don’t understand,” Reseon muttered.

“Understand what?”

“Is this really the right thing to do? To Yuraine….”

“Reseon.”

“…….”

“This was Mother and Father’s decision. We must obey.”

“I’m not asking about them. What do you think?”

“Enough. Let’s go. They’re waiting.”

Rvien brushed past Reseon, knocking on the door before entering. Inside, their parents sat separately on opposing sofas, their faces as impassive as ever.

“How is Yuraine?” Mother asked.

“He seems fine,” Rvien replied. “A bit dazed and quiet, but no one would notice anything unusual by looking at him.”

“As expected of His Majesty’s ability,” Father said, nodding approvingly.

Yuraine’s current state was surreal. The dreamy haze in his demeanor was tempered by his naturally serene features, masking much of the conditioning’s effects. His usual calm personality now carried an additional air of submission—a detail Rvien couldn’t help but think matched the Emperor’s preferences too well. The thought was unsettling, but he pushed it aside.

“Is this really okay? Conditioning someone’s mind like that…” Reseon hesitated.

“It’s not conditioning,” Mother snapped. “It simply makes him more attentive to His Majesty’s words.”

Reseon’s lips twitched in a faint smirk, though he quickly suppressed it. Rvien noticed and gripped his brother’s arm to keep him from provoking their parents further. Reseon’s impulsive nature could make things worse at a time like this.

“Are the carriages ready?” Father asked.

“No. We plan to ride on horseback instead. It will get us there faster,” Rvien replied.

“Very well.”

The plan was to move Yuraine to a more secluded forest villa. The staff there had been carefully selected—people with no ties to Airedren. Less exposure to others meant a lower chance of the conditioning breaking prematurely. Yuraine would remain there while the family awaited the Emperor’s next orders.

After the discussion, Rvien and Reseon left the hall together. As they parted ways to return to their rooms, Reseon suddenly grabbed Rvien’s arm.

Startled by the force of his grip, Rvien turned to see Reseon’s pale, tense face.

“What is it?”

Reseon’s expression grew colder. After a long silence, he finally spoke, his voice low and accusatory.

“Is this really about our parents? Or is it because you want the Duke’s position for yourself?”

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