I Refuse This Life, Your Highness! - Chapter 67

“Watch your words. Don’t make baseless assumptions.”

“Ha, is it really baseless? I get it, you know. Who wouldn’t want to be the Duke of Isser?”

“Reseon!”

Rvien’s voice rose slightly before he caught himself, glancing toward the door. He quickly stepped away from the spot, and Reseon reluctantly followed.

“You know as well as I do that this is for the family. There’s no other way.”

“But does it have to come at Yuraine’s expense? No matter how he’s been treated, Yuraine is still an Airedren with the Sierra name. And let’s face it—our family has never done anything for him.”

Rvien let out a sigh.

“You’re right. But are we hanging Yuraine out to dry? No.”

“…….”

“This is for his benefit, too. It’s far better than being with that Duke.”

“Still, I… this whole situation….”

“Feels like we’re using him?”

“……Yeah.”

Reseon avoided his gaze. The plan undoubtedly relied on Yuraine playing a crucial role, but calling it “using” him felt too harsh—or so Rvien convinced himself. After all, this wasn’t something harmful to Yuraine in the end.

“Stop overthinking and cooperate.”

“…….”

“What I mean is, don’t act self-righteous, Reseon Sierra.”

Reseon turned his gaze away further, visibly stung by the remark.

“Just go rest. I need to bring Yuraine something to eat.”

Rvien left him behind and headed toward the kitchen. The household staff preparing snacks for the noble family froze, startled by the sudden appearance of the young master, and bowed deeply.

“Prepare something light for Yuraine to eat. Something easy on the stomach.”

“Yes, my lord.”

The servants bustled about, swiftly arranging a tray with soft oatmeal, roasted fruit, honey, and other delicacies. Rvien carried the tray himself to Yuraine’s room. The chains securing the door rattled as he unlocked them.

When he opened the door, Yuraine sat on the edge of the bed in his nightclothes, warming himself by the fire. A dazzling bracelet adorned his wrist like a shackle, starkly mismatched with his simple attire.

“Yuraine, you’ll catch a cold.”

“Brother.”

Rvien set the tray on the table and approached, draping a plush robe over Yuraine’s slender shoulders. Yuraine tilted his head upward, a soft smile gracing his lips.

“It’s warm… thank you, Brother.”

“I brought you something to eat.”

“Thank you.”

Though he smiled and expressed gratitude, Yuraine made no move to eat. The sight left Rvien feeling uneasy. He reminded himself it was temporary, that the conditioning wasn’t permanent. He didn’t want this doll-like version of his brother either.

Rvien stood silently, watching Yuraine.

His ash-gold hair fell in soft, delicate waves, and his violet eyes seemed dulled, like mist clouding a once-bright sky. His features were flawlessly symmetrical—his smooth, porcelain skin, long lashes, and gracefully sculpted nose. Even his quiet demeanor added a serene elegance to his presence.

Yuraine was undoubtedly beautiful—someone who could stand beside anyone in the empire without losing face.

That was why he deserved to be in the highest and happiest place.

Though it felt like using Yuraine now, Rvien reassured himself that it wasn’t. This would ultimately lead to Yuraine’s happiness. It was a chance to make up for all the things he hadn’t done as a proper older brother, a chance to repay him.

Their parents believed the same, and Reseon would eventually come around. Rvien cupped Yuraine’s delicate cheek in his hand, the soft texture of his skin brushing against his palm. Yuraine looked up at him with a curious, placid expression.

“Don’t you worry about the Duke?”

“The Duke?”

Yuraine tilted his head slightly.

“Why should I worry about him?”

“That’s….”

“I’ll belong to His Majesty the Emperor now, won’t I?”

“…….”

The conditioning had stripped away any attachment to the Duke or Isser. Yuraine now existed to obey and revere the Emperor. Soon, thoughts of the Duke would vanish entirely, replaced by devotion to His Majesty.

“Go eat something, Yuraine.”

“Okay.”

When Yuraine started to rise barefoot, Rvien stopped him, slipping soft slippers onto his feet. Yuraine smiled faintly again, murmuring his thanks. His smile was delicate, like a flower dampened with dew.

Yuraine sat at the table and scooped a spoonful of plain oatmeal into his mouth. He seemed unbothered by the bland taste, moving to take a second bite.

“Don’t eat it like that. Add something to it.”

“Okay….”

Yuraine gazed at the tray but didn’t move. Rvien sighed and added a few toppings himself—roasted grains, a drizzle of honey, and some fruit.

Yuraine obediently ate what was given to him. As the porridge in the bowl dwindled to half, his spoon noticeably slowed. His face grew darker, as though he was eating more than he could stomach. It was only then that Rvien realized he hadn’t told Yuraine he could stop eating.

“If you’re full, you can stop now, Yuraine.”

“Okay.”

Yuraine’s face brightened slightly as he put down the spoon. It seemed as though he had been waiting for permission to stop. Could he really be this passive? Still, this was His Majesty’s doing… surely, it was for the best.

“Read a book or something until your food digests, then go to bed. Make sure you stay warm under the blankets—it’s cold in this villa. Let’s leave the bath for tomorrow.”

“Okay, tomorrow.”

“Good.”

Rvien gently patted his brother’s hair. The unadorned golden strands fell like silken threads through his fingers. He guided Yuraine back to the bed, propping him up with pillows. Although servants typically handled such tasks, the villa was staffed by Airedren’s regular attendants—people who felt compassion for Yuraine and were fond of him.

They were too familiar with Yuraine and might suspect something was amiss or even attempt to help him if they thought he was in trouble. It was also said that exposure to familiar people could unexpectedly break conditioning.

After fetching a book Yuraine might like, Rvien lit the bedside lamp.

“Read for about an hour before sleeping, okay?”

“Okay.”

With another nod from Yuraine, Rvien stroked his brother’s hair once more before stepping out. The clinking of chains and the locking of the door echoed faintly as he secured it. A brief wave of conflicted thoughts washed over him, but he quickly pushed them aside.

“This… what is this barbaric display?”

The Emperor’s voice carried a faint edge of amusement as he addressed the chains wound around Yuraine’s door.

“We didn’t restrain him physically. This is merely a precaution—basic security,” Rvien explained.

The Emperor clicked his tongue, gesturing with his head. The meaning was clear. Rvien hurriedly unlocked the padlock and removed the chains. The sound of them unraveling felt embarrassingly loud.

When the door opened, the Emperor entered unceremoniously, without knocking.

Inside, Yuraine stood alone, dressed in attire he had changed into by himself. Fortunately, the villa had at least one outfit simple enough for him to manage. Though the wardrobe here was limited, Yuraine had adhered to Rvien’s instruction to wear the most presentable clothing available.

He wore an ivory dress adorned with fine lace, paired with the few ornaments the villa had to offer. His hair, evidently beyond his ability to style alone, was simply brushed and adorned with a red gemstone hairpiece above his ear.

“Your Majesty,” Yuraine said softly, his cheeks tinged with a blush as though shy.

The Emperor strode toward him, grabbing his chin and tilting his face this way and that.

“You’ve dressed up nicely. Though I prefer something more extravagant.”

“My apologies… I didn’t have time to prepare properly before coming to the villa.”

“Indeed. Still, you look charming, even modestly dressed.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Yuraine tilted his head slightly and smiled. His smile was different in the Emperor’s presence—radiant, as though he couldn’t contain his joy.

“Duchess.”

“……”

“Yuraine?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Yuraine didn’t even flinch at the title “Duchess,” reacting only to his own name. The Emperor’s smile widened, clearly pleased. He caressed Yuraine’s chin before abruptly withdrawing his hand—only to strike him across the face.

“……!”

Everyone present froze in shock—except for Yuraine.

The slap wasn’t forceful; it made a sharp sound, but only turned Yuraine’s head slightly. Even so, his pale skin reddened instantly, the flesh swelling faintly.

“Your Majesty?”

Yuraine, his expression serene, looked up at the Emperor as though nothing had happened.

“Are you angry because I hit you?”

“No…”

“Why not?”

“Because it was Your Majesty who did it…”

A faint smile graced Yuraine’s lips. The Emperor’s satisfaction deepened, his laughter growing richer.

“You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Rvien discreetly scanned his family’s reactions. Their mother and father remained composed, but Reseon’s barely restrained fury was evident. Rvien quickly moved to grab his younger brother’s arm. Reseon glared at him, clenching his jaw before letting out a small sigh and swallowing his anger.

“Yuraine.”

“Yes.”

The Emperor seized Yuraine’s chin again, tilting it upward. Slowly, he leaned in, his lips drawing dangerously close to Yuraine’s.

And then—

“……”

Yuraine turned his head sharply to the side.

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