I Refuse This Life, Your Highness! - Chapter 76

“Vi.”

The duke’s voice broke through the quiet tension, grounding me. I glanced at him, unsure if I wanted to hear what he might say. His gaze was steady, his tone calm but tinged with concern.

“It doesn’t matter why they were that way,” he said, his words carefully measured. “What matters is that you’re here now. With me.”

I tried to smile, but it felt forced, brittle. I nodded silently, clinging to his words like a lifeline.

Meanwhile, Liseon remained kneeling, his head slightly bowed. Even without looking directly at him, I could feel the weight of his presence, his guilt, and his determination. He had always been composed, but there was a vulnerability about him now that was hard to ignore.

“Liseon,” the duke said, his commanding tone drawing attention back to him. “Your actions have spared you harsher judgment, but don’t mistake leniency for trust. You will remain in the duchy under the conditions I set earlier. Your movements will be monitored, and you’ll only meet Vi under her explicit consent. Is that clear?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Liseon replied, his voice steady.

“And one more thing,” the duke added, his tone softening slightly. “You’ll have to prove yourself—not to me, but to Vi. If you truly mean to make amends, start there.”

Liseon lifted his gaze toward me, his expression earnest yet restrained. “I will, Your Highness. I promise.”

I looked away, unable to meet his eyes for long. There was something deeply unsettling about his sincerity—it was too much, too late, and yet… I couldn’t fully reject it. Not yet.

“Enough for today,” the duke said, rising from his chair. “Liseon, you’re dismissed for now. Keyara, see to his quarters and ensure the arrangements are followed.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” Keyara replied, her tone professional but curt.

Liseon stood, bowed deeply, and left without another word, escorted by Keyara. The room felt noticeably emptier once he was gone, yet the atmosphere remained heavy. The duke stepped closer to me, his hand resting lightly on my shoulder.

“You’ve done enough,” he said softly. “Rest for now.”

I nodded, grateful for his presence. But even as I left the room and returned to my quarters, a part of me remained unsettled. My mind kept returning to Liseon’s words, to the look in his eyes, and to the shattering realization that my parents’ actions had been entirely their own.

No magic. No manipulation. Just their choice.

I sank onto the edge of my bed, feeling the exhaustion of the day settle over me. Resilia appeared, bringing a warm cup of tea without a word. She set it on the bedside table, her quiet presence comforting. I managed a faint smile in thanks.

As the door closed softly behind her, I stared at the steaming cup, my thoughts churning. The idea of Liseon staying in the duchy, of seeing him again, filled me with unease. But more than that, the truth about my parents cut deeper than I wanted to admit.

For so long, I had hoped there was an explanation—a reason beyond their control. But now, that hope was gone. All that remained was the cold, bitter reality.

I took a deep breath, willing myself to focus. The war was coming. I had to prepare, to support the duke, to protect what mattered now. There was no time to dwell on wounds that couldn’t be healed.

Still, as I lay down and pulled the covers over me, the pain lingered, a quiet ache that refused to fade.

“…”

At the sound of the duke’s voice, I looked up quietly, and he reached out to wrap me in his arms. Though no one dared to glance our way, the weight of the many eyes in the room was palpable.

But his warmth was so comforting that I didn’t want to pull away. In the end, I leaned into him, using the unspoken understanding of everyone pretending not to notice as an excuse. His embrace felt like the kindest words, soothing and steadying me in a way nothing else could.

“It’s late. Let’s return to our quarters,” the duke finally said. Then, turning to Liseon, he added, “Liseon, your room will be guarded, and the windows locked. Any objections?”

“None, Your Grace. I’m already grateful it’s not a cell.”

Liseon bowed deeply. The duke’s gaze shifted to Keyara, standing at the edge of the room.

“Keyara, do you have anything further to add about Liseon?”

“One thing,” she said, her sharp eyes flicking between me and Liseon.

“Go on,” the duke prompted, leaning back in his chair.

“Liseon appears to share a similar trait with Her Highness.”

“A similar trait?” I asked.

“Yes, resistance to mental magic,” Keyara clarified.

I glanced at Liseon. His expression was calm, as though he had already suspected this. It made sense—mental magic resistance was said to run in the Airden bloodline. Seeing his parents and Rvienne fall prey to the emperor’s manipulations must have confirmed it for him.

“After witnessing how Her Highness was influenced, I began to suspect that others in the family were similarly affected,” Liseon admitted. “Rvienne’s blind devotion to the emperor solidified my theory. Frankly, I sometimes wonder if I, too, might harbor hidden traces of manipulation.”

“That’s unlikely,” Keyara said firmly. “This time, we conducted an exhaustive investigation. There’s no room for error.”

Her certainty was reassuring. After all, Keyara had already endured the burden of failing to detect the emperor’s mental magic and the enchanted bracelets three times before. She would not allow it to happen again.

Once the room cleared, leaving only the duke, Keyara, and me, she turned to us with a more serious expression.

“Your Highness,” she began, her tone measured. “I’ve seen something in Liseon’s memories. May I share it? And, Your Grace, do you consent to hear it as well?”

The duke glanced at me, his expression soft and accommodating, as if to say he would follow my lead.

“But isn’t what you see usually the most traumatic memories?” I asked hesitantly. “Should we really be hearing this?”

Keyara shook her head. “In this case, it was different. What I saw wasn’t traumatic. Perhaps it’s because Liseon doesn’t require mental healing—it was a long, peaceful memory. I’d even say it was radiant. That’s how it felt to me.”

“Radiant…” I repeated softly. After a brief pause, I nodded. “All right, I’d like to hear it.”

Keyara inclined her head before she began.

“Her Highness was a young child, riding a horse. Your two older brothers were with you.”

Oh… It must have been the day Rvienne first taught me how to ride. We had gone out together, all three of us.

“As you rode, you lost your balance and fell. Liseon caught you before you hit the ground. He calmed you, though you were startled and nearly in tears, by teasing you playfully.”

I remembered that day clearly now. It was my first riding lesson, and I had been overconfident after a few successful attempts. Thrilled by their praise, I had urged the horse to gallop faster and lost control of the reins. My body had tilted sharply to the side.

The horse wasn’t very tall, and the ground was soft with grass, so I wouldn’t have been hurt badly. But Liseon had rushed over, catching me in his arms before I could fall. He’d looked relieved, then laughed and started teasing me, his lighthearted words drying the tears that had begun to well in my eyes.

“And then,” Keyara continued, her voice tinged with warmth, “‘Our little one,’ he said, ‘you’re really impossible.’”

Our little one is impossible. How will you survive without your big brother?

That’s what he had said.

The room fell silent as her words lingered in the air. My throat tightened as the memory resurfaced in vivid detail. Back then, he had truly been my brother, protective and kind.

Now, I wasn’t sure who he was anymore.

“Vi,” the duke said softly, breaking the quiet.

I turned to him, his steady gaze grounding me once again. His presence, his unwavering support, reminded me of the life I had now—a life I needed to protect and cherish, no matter how my past haunted me.

“Yes,” I whispered, swallowing the lump in my throat.

I would face this, just as I had faced everything else.

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