I Refuse This Life, Your Highness! - Chapter 74

Sir Leon’s sword was like a jagged boulder lodged deep in the earth. Though it was the same wooden practice sword, no matter how much I struck at it, it didn’t budge. Frustration mounted, and I swung harder and more recklessly, but it was all futile. Sir Leon stood calmly, holding his sword with one hand, watching my efforts with an amused smile.

In the end, I was the one who gave out first. Exhausted from the repeated swings, I panted and let my sword droop limply. Only then did Sir Leon lower his arm.

“Take a moment to sit and rest, Your Highness. You’ve exerted yourself quite a bit.”

“H-how,  how is it possiblefor it not to move at all?”

“Well, I am the finest knight in Iser,” he said with a grin. “But Your Highness did exceptionally well.”

As he spoke, the other knights began clapping. For a moment, I thought they were mocking me, but the duke himself had uncrossed his arms and was now standing with one hand on his hip, smiling.

“You’ve been swinging your sword for almost an hour,” the duke remarked.

“An hour?!”

Sir Leon pulled a pocket watch from his coat and showed me the time. He was right—the hour had flown by without my noticing. At first, I’d been focused on seeing Leon’s feline form, but gradually, I became engrossed in the challenge of disarming him. Though I failed, I couldn’t deny the experience had been engaging.

“You truly have a knack for everything, Your Highness. With time and practice, you’ll master swordsmanship in no time,” Leon said, clearly impressed.

“….”

I opened my mouth, then stopped myself. I almost said, Lamia don’t need swordsmanship, words drilled into me throughout my childhood. But no one is exempt from the need to defend themselves. In life-threatening situations, the lack of a means to protect oneself could mean death. My magic was too broad and unwieldy to serve as a reliable defense.

What my parents had truly taught me was to live like a plant—protected and dependent on others, perhaps a husband.

But that wouldn’t do. In the end, the only one who could truly protect me was myself. It was time I learned how, even if I was starting late.

“Vi,” the duke called as he approached.

“I think you’ve done enough for today. Overexerting yourself on the first day isn’t wise.”

“Ah… Yes.”

“Well done, Your Highness,” Sir Leon said, bowing slightly.

“Thank you.”

“You’re most welcome.”

I had considered switching to more formal speech with Sir Leon now that he was my instructor, as I did with the count, but he had protested vehemently at the idea, so I let it be. After a glance at the knights resuming their training, I excused myself and returned to my chambers. My entire body was drenched in sweat.

After bathing and changing clothes, I went to the study. Winter at the duchy demanded careful upkeep, and there were always matters to address. Certain drafty areas required additional tapestries and curtains, and I decided to replace some of the thinner carpets with thicker ones.

Since Erma’s departure, the position of chief steward had been filled by the deputy, with lower-ranking staff stepping up as needed. However, Erma had been surprisingly capable, leaving some of the responsibilities to fall on me in her absence.

Speaking of Erma… her name had appeared on the pardon list. I hadn’t yet discussed this with the duke. The emperor’s New Year’s pardon ceremony was still days away, so Erma was likely still in prison.

A pardon, though. She had been sentenced to death—how had this happened? When I first learned of it, I had been under the influence of the emperor’s magic and hadn’t given it much thought. But now, the implications were troubling. What could the emperor’s intentions be?

Lost in thought, I was startled by a warm sensation on my ankle. Looking down, I saw a yellow tabby cat curling its tail around its front paws, sitting primly.

“…Sir Leon!”

The yellow tabby, with its distinct stripes matching Sir Leon’s hair, sat there innocently. Its adorable demeanor almost made me forget who it truly was. Sir Leon—or rather, the cat—trotted out from beneath the desk and leaped gracefully onto its surface.

“Meow. Mrrrr.”

The cat blinked at me with narrowed eyes. Unable to resist, I reached out and began stroking its fur. As I scratched its forehead, it purred contentedly under my touch.

So, now he wasn’t dodging my affection anymore? Still… this was Sir Leon. Or was it? Either way, he was far too adorable for his own good. I couldn’t stop petting him, even knowing he might later demand an explanation for my actions.

“Your Highness, Lady Leya has come to visit.”

“Send her in.”

Why would Leya suddenly want to visit? Puzzled, I kept stroking the cat as Leya entered, bowing politely at the door. Her gaze fell on the cat in my lap, and her brow furrowed.

“So, Sir Leon is here.”

“Haha… It’s hard not to find him adorable when I think of him as just a cat,” I said, laughing awkwardly.

“….”

Leya said nothing, but her expression made it clear she wasn’t impressed.

“Sit down.”

I gestured to the sofa, inviting Leya to sit. Shortly after, Resilia brought in tea and refreshments, setting them neatly on the table. Sir Leon—or rather, the cat—who had been perched on my desk, gracefully leapt down and wandered over to Leya.

“Shoo. You’re repulsive,” Leya said, her voice sharp.

“Meoww.”

It almost sounded like a complaint. The cat lingered, prowling around the base of the sofa. As we drank tea, however, it casually made its way onto Leya’s lap and settled there as if it belonged. Despite her earlier disdain, Leya absentmindedly stroked the cat as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

“What brings you here today?” I asked.

“…Just thought I’d have some tea,” she replied quietly.

“All right.”

Sometimes, Leya would visit just to share a cup of tea. She rarely spoke much during these visits and often left shortly after. Still, I wondered if this was her way of trying to get closer to me. I liked to think it was.

The quiet tea time, complete with the cat, was a much-needed respite for my tired body and mind. After a while of being petted by Leya, the cat glanced at me, as if considering a change in company, but it didn’t have the chance.

“The Duke is here,” announced a guard from outside.

Before I could respond, the door swung open, and the duke strode in. His eyes immediately landed on the cat. Without hesitation, he crossed the room and grabbed the cat by the scruff of its neck.

“You can’t pick up a cat like that!” I protested.

“This isn’t just any cat, Vi. This is Leon Rustis.”

“…That may be true, but still—”

“Yowl!”

The cat let out a peculiar sound, almost like a laugh. The next moment, the duke unceremoniously tossed it onto the sofa across the room. I opened my mouth to scold him, but I froze as a soft pop echoed through the room. The adorable cat was gone, replaced by Sir Leon in his knight’s uniform.

“…It’s really Sir Leon.”

“Of course it is. Did you think it was an impostor?” The duke smirked. “Vi, I didn’t know you liked cats so much.”

“Oh, I just… like animals in general.”

“Well, it seems you’ve been taking care of some strays in the stable. Would you like to visit them?”

“Yes, I’d love to!”

I hadn’t known about the stable cats, but it made sense that they were being sheltered from the winter cold. I’d have gone to see them sooner had I known. Beaming, I looked up at the duke, but out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Sir Leon waving his hand dramatically.

“Hello, still here. Don’t forget about me. Over here!” he called out, pointing to himself and then gesturing toward Leya, who had been quietly sipping her tea. Leya glanced at him with a look of clear irritation, her expression practically shouting, Leave me out of this.

“Vi, are you busy right now?” the duke asked.

“No, I just finished up the important tasks.”

“Good. Leon, go fetch Lyol and Count Chiara.”

“Aren’t you going to ask if I’m busy?” Leon retorted.

“You’re not. If you were, you wouldn’t be here chatting.”

Grumbling under his breath, Leon left the room. Before long, he returned with Lyol and the count, filling the small study with people.

“First,” the duke began, “there’s no sign of movement from the emperor or Airden, correct?”

His gaze landed on Leon, who nodded and elaborated.

“The emperor is still basking in the afterglow of his birthday celebrations, and Airden is deathly quiet.”

The mention of Airden made me think of Liseon. If they had discovered his role in my escape…

“Is Airden truly quiet? Nothing unusual internally?”

“If you’re worried about Sir Liseon, there’s no need. The family is only upset about losing track of Your Highness. There’s no indication that Sir Liseon has been imprisoned or punished.”

I exhaled in relief, memories of Liseon’s face in the forest flashing through my mind. He’d looked as though he might never see me again. Perhaps… that would be the case.

“They’re pretending nothing happened,” the duke mused, crossing his arms.

Though their plan had failed, no significant commotion had arisen. For now, the duke remained still as well. It seemed the emperor and Airden were intent on sweeping the events of the banquet under the rug.

“And then, there’s the matter of Erma’s pardon,” the duke continued.

“Erma looked utterly dazed when she heard the news,” Leon said.

“You saw her?” I asked.

Leon nodded. “I expected her to be elated, but she seemed hollow, like an empty shell.”

“Was there any sign of enchantment?” asked Count Chiara.

“I’m not well-versed in magic, so I can’t say for certain.”

“She seemed hollow,” the count repeated thoughtfully. “It could be the aftereffects of mind-control magic.”

“Exactly,” Lyol interjected. “If someone is subjected to mental magic for an extended period, even after it’s broken, they may lose their faculties entirely.”

Mental magic… the emperor’s mind control. I recalled hearing that Erma had often accompanied the duke to the palace as a child. Magic is innate, tied to one’s birth. It wouldn’t be surprising if the emperor had planted something in Erma’s mind back then, leaving her in this state.

As I considered this, I felt a pang of sympathy for Erma.

Then, a thought occurred to me—one that made my heart pound with hope and dread.

“Your Grace,” I said hesitantly.

“Hmm?”

“Is it possible… just possible…” I hesitated, feeling foolish for even entertaining the idea.

“Go on.”

“…Could my parents have been under the emperor’s influence all along?”

Support