I Refuse This Life, Your Highness! - Chapter 83

I sat, lost in thought, my chin resting on my hand. The soft knock and subsequent creak of the door opening snapped me back. There was only one person who entered my room unannounced—the Duke.

“Why are you sitting like that?”

“…”

The Duke held a bottle of wine in one hand. It was rare for him to bring alcohol now that we truly shared a bed. I glanced briefly at the bottle before letting my head rest back on my hand.

“Just… my thoughts are too heavy.”

“Because of Sir Riseon?”

I nodded.

“Riseon said this was his punishment. But, Your Grace, if my parents, Revien… even Erma… all committed their sins because of the Emperor’s brainwashing, should they really bear the punishment for it?”

It was a question that had haunted me for some time. I expected the Duke to take a moment to ponder, but his answer was surprisingly straightforward.

“They should.”

“Why?”

“Because brainwashing doesn’t completely override free will. It can’t force someone to do something they fundamentally wouldn’t. A part of their own will is always involved.”

“…”

“…Was that too harsh for you to hear?”

I shook my head quietly. Perhaps it was the most comforting answer for me. My parents had never truly liked me as a Lamia inheriting magic. The Emperor’s brainwashing had merely pushed their disdain to its extreme.

Even I had resisted. When the Emperor had tried to kiss me under the guise of love, I had instinctively turned away, overwhelmed by an inexplicable revulsion. No matter how thorough the brainwashing, it couldn’t fully dominate one’s subconscious.

“You likely blame the Emperor the most, don’t you?” the Duke asked.

I nodded, and he responded with a matching nod of acknowledgment.

“See? Even here, we think differently. But despite that, we understand each other and see each perspective as valid. That’s human nature. Our minds can hold conflicting ideas. The Emperor’s brainwashing exploits exactly that—it amplifies the thoughts he wants.”

“I see…”

Human thoughts were multifaceted, and the Emperor had honed in on the facets that suited his goals. That’s how he had ensnared so many, including my family.

“There’s no need to overthink it, Yuraine,” the Duke said. “The world is full of complexities, and we can’t judge them all correctly. And what’s ‘correct’ is different for everyone.”

He pulled me closer and kissed my cheek.

“So don’t burden yourself too much. What’s done is done, and you can’t change it. It’s time to let go of your family.”

I looked up at him. His golden eyes, reflecting the candlelight, seemed even more vivid, almost otherworldly. I wanted to touch those eyes, but my hand faltered. Instead, I gently stroked his long lashes.

“That tickles,” he murmured, a small smile playing on his lips.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and hugged him. The room was silent, and the bed was close.

The sound of a comb running smoothly through my hair filled the room. In a ridiculous twist of fate, the Duke was brushing my hair. I sat in a thin robe, and he, dressed simply in a tunic, worked carefully with the comb in his hand.

My hair, which fell just past my waist, gleamed from daily care. After some time, the Duke lifted a section and pressed a soft kiss to it.

“Should I cut it?” I asked suddenly.

“Why?”

“It’s too long. In the future, it could become a hindrance.”

I was thinking practically—preparing for war. Long hair could be a liability in emergencies or battles. The Duke released my hair and kissed the nape of my neck before replying.

“No need. You won’t need to fight.”

“But defending the estate is my duty.”

He paused mid-kiss and turned me to face him. His expression was serious, his gaze steady. Then, leaning in, he kissed the corner of my eye and whispered.

“You’re right—it is your duty. You’re… remarkably strong. I feel reassured.”

My cheeks flushed bright red. It was nothing special—just something that had to be done—but he made me feel as though I’d accomplished something extraordinary.

I adored him for that.

“Let me brush your hair now,” I said.

“All right.”

But he didn’t turn around. Was he expecting me to do it like this? His hair was short, so there wasn’t much to manage. A quick comb and smoothing one side into place was all it took. I held up a hand mirror to show him, and he laughed out loud.

“Don’t you like it?”

“No, I like it. You’re good at this.”

Then why laugh so much? I almost pouted but forgot entirely when he kissed the tip of my finger.

“Are you very tired?”

I shook my head. I’d been tired ever since we returned to the estate, but there was too much to do to rest. I didn’t have the luxury of lying down to recover.

“If possible, meet with Lyol today.”

“Lyol? Why?”

“A messenger bird arrived from the capital. The Emperor is preparing for war.”

It wasn’t shocking. By bringing Erma here, we had essentially declared war on the Emperor. But the Duke’s next words left me speechless.

“The nobles and regional lords who opposed the war have all changed their stance. If this continues, it will become a full-scale civil war.”

I covered my mouth with my hand. The Duke’s goal had been to mobilize a small force, march to the capital, and eliminate the Emperor swiftly. A prolonged civil war would be disastrous. Other nations might take advantage of the chaos, and the border defenses against magical creatures would crumble.

For the nobility to suddenly support war—it could only be the Emperor’s doing.

“How… How is that even possible? If he could do this, wouldn’t the Empire have already unified the continent?”

“Brainwashing isn’t all-powerful. It has its limits.”

“Then what can we do…?”

It was a foolish question, but I couldn’t think of anything else to say.

“We stop him.”

“…”

The answer was obvious, but when the Duke said it, it didn’t feel impossible. He spoke with an unwavering confidence, as though failure wasn’t an option.

“Do you have a plan? I don’t think the Countess can handle this alone.”

The Countess could undo the Emperor’s brainwashing, but how could she possibly deal with hundreds of nobles and lords on her own? The Duke had mentioned the brainwashing’s weaknesses—but what were they?

“Lyol knows how to deal with it.”

“What?! Then why has he been so quiet until now…?”

“He said, ‘I’ll tell you when the time is right.’ Now it’s time to collect that debt.”

“Hah…”

A surge of anger rose within me. Lyol had known a way to counter the Emperor’s power? And he had kept his mouth shut all this time?

The Duke, noticing my reaction, lightly patted my shoulder.

“Don’t be too angry. He’s been helpful in his own way until now.”

“…I suppose.”

In retrospect, it wasn’t entirely unreasonable for Lyol to withhold such information. He was a prince of Hasein, after all. A foreign prince knowing both the Empire’s vulnerabilities and how to exploit them? It would have been more surprising if he’d shared it freely.

Not long after, we met with Lyol in the drawing room. He was dressed more impeccably than usual, his cloak neatly fastened, his hair swept back—a prince in every sense.

After refreshments were set and all the attendants had left, only the three of us remained: Lyol, the Duke, and myself. Taking a sip of tea, Lyol straightened his posture and spoke.

“So, where should I begin?”

“…Wherever you feel comfortable,” I said.

“Very well. Hmm… Once upon a time, there was a poor little prince…”

“Don’t joke around.”

I cut him off sharply, and he turned to me with an exaggerated look of wounded innocence.

“I’m not joking, Your Grace.”

“Continue,” the Duke said, his tone firm. Lyol shrugged dramatically.

“Fine. To start with… One fact: inherited magic can be taken by someone of the same bloodline.”

It felt like a punch to the gut. I’d never heard of this before.

“How?”

“By killing them.”

“…”

“You’ve never heard this before, have you? Neither has His Grace, I assume. But it’s true. If someone of the same bloodline kills the inheritor, they can forcibly take their magic.”

A chill ran down my spine. If this knowledge had been known earlier… No doubt my parents would have… I unconsciously touched my neck. I remembered all the times I’d been strangled, stabbed, hanged, or poisoned. What if it hadn’t been Erma but my parents or Revien instead? They could have done it, perhaps with a single, perfunctory apology.

The Duke’s gaze on me was steady. Trying to calm myself, I took a few sips of tea. Lyol continued.

“But magic naturally seeks to return to its original host. In other words, it will gravitate toward the original inheritor’s remains—their corpse or bones.”

“Their remains?”

“Yes. However, there are strict conditions. If the remains are already buried, only someone with inherited magic can exhume them. After that, the remains must be kept by a blood relative of the original inheritor—someone who would have inherited the magic if it hadn’t been stolen. This prevents the magic from dissipating and ensures it returns to its rightful host. The remains act as a kind of conduit.”

“And by ‘future inheritor,’ you mean…”

“The person who would have naturally inherited the magic had it not been taken.”

The conditions were incredibly specific. Lyol’s explanation clearly had a purpose. Magic could be stolen through murder. This implied the Emperor wasn’t the original inheritor of his power. In the Imperial family, the most likely candidate for the original inheritor would be…

“The missing First Prince.”

Lyol smiled slyly, a silent confirmation. The convoluted conditions made sense now: the remains needed to be exhumed by someone with magic, and they had to be held by the deceased’s bloodline—the rightful inheritor.

“…”

‘It’s because my mother is a Lamia.’
‘There are rumors the missing First Prince was also a Lamia…’

My head snapped up. Lyol was still smiling, though his expression carried an undercurrent of something unspoken. The vanished heir of the late Emperor. Rumored to be a Lamia. He had been much older than the current Emperor, the Second Prince. Considering the age at which he disappeared… it was entirely plausible.

“Prince, are you…”

Lyol’s smile lingered, but his eyes gleamed with a subtle intensity.

“Are you of Imperial blood?”

“Haha.”

He chuckled lightly, placing a hand over his chest.

“Yes, I am. Of the true lineage.”

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