I Refuse This Life, Your Highness! - Chapter 86

Riseon arrived at Airdren after riding nonstop for two days with an injured leg. Naturally, the entire estate was thrown into chaos upon the arrival of the second son. Holding the reins of a foaming horse, his face was pale as a sheet, and blood streamed from his thigh.

He had planned to search for his mother and father immediately upon arrival, but there was no need. Having heard the news, both parents were already outside with pale faces. Riseon collapsed from his horse as if falling apart. Revien, who had rushed to his side, caught him.

However, Riseon pushed away Revien’s support, somehow managing to stand on one leg despite barely being able to hold himself up. His appearance was indescribably wretched.

It was to be expected. He had sustained a severe wound to his thigh, wandered in the mountains for days, received minimal treatment, and then immediately mounted a horse to ride for two days without rest.

“Give me the family’s magical tome.”

The first words from his faltering voice were a demand for the tome. His face was devoid of any color, and his well-trained body trembled uncontrollably. It wouldn’t have been surprising if he collapsed and died on the spot.

“I understand, Riseon. I understand, but first, you must be treated. No, come inside, please.”

The Countess, equally pale, beckoned her son inside. A trail of crimson blood marked the path where Riseon had walked. Once inside the familiar parlor—where his strict mother had often scolded him as a child for playing tag—Riseon surveyed his surroundings.

Whenever the three of them—Revien, Riseon, and Uraine—played pranks, Uraine always took the brunt of the blame. Throughout his life, Riseon and Revien had split Uraine’s punishments between themselves simply because Uraine was the one who inherited the magic of Lamia.

Magic that had been sworn before the emperor never to be used. Magic that could only poison with blood or annihilate everyone present. Magic so ineffective on the battlefield it was practically useless.

What was so important about such power that the royal family would constantly keep Airdren in check? Why had the promise not to use magic been required to ensure the family’s peace?

Clearly, his parents were hiding something about the magic. And that “something” was undoubtedly detailed in the family’s magical tome.

“First, get treated. We can talk after that.”

“No. The tome comes first. I’ll accept treatment after you give it to me.”

“Riseon!”

The Earl shouted, but Riseon did not yield. He was already prepared to die if necessary.

The emperor had brainwashed Uraine. He might have done the same to the rest of the family. However, brainwashing worked by magnifying a particular part of someone’s mind. If one experienced a shocking enough event, they could overcome it and act of their own free will. Riseon grabbed his older brother’s arm with surprising strength for his mangled body and glared directly at Revien, who appeared confused.

“Revien.”

Blood dripped as he spoke.

“Listen carefully. If I die, you must take the tome. Take it…”

…to Uraine. He needs it.

He whispered the final words so their parents wouldn’t hear. Revien’s eyes widened.

His parents continued hesitating. On the table, set with dishes for a late meal, lay various sharp objects: a carving knife, a candlestick, and a letter opener. Surveying them, Riseon didn’t hesitate to grab the carving knife.

“Aah!”

“Riseon!”

The three members of the Airdren family were nearly fainting. Riseon had stabbed and sliced his already grievously injured leg with the knife. His clothes and flesh were torn, and blood sprayed everywhere. He didn’t intend to kill himself—if he had, he would have severed an artery. Instead, his intent was clear: depending on his family’s response, he was fully prepared to end his life.

“Calm down, please, Riseon!”

“Give me the tome.”

“Why do you even need it?”

“Who knows? Perhaps… I might inherit the magic.”

“W-what…?”

“Shall I stab deeper?”

The Earl and Countess faltered. Already shaken by their second son’s condition, the mention of the heirship issue only deepened their distress. A flicker of realization crossed their faces.

So this is how it works. Why didn’t I understand this earlier? Or maybe I didn’t notice because it’s always been like this. Uraine once asked a similar question. Riseon gripped the knife tighter, his thoughts racing. The Countess finally cried out.

“I’ll bring it! I’ll bring it, so please, stop!”

“Riseon, you…”

Revien’s voice followed his mother’s scream. The Earl sighed deeply, closed his eyes, and turned toward the Countess’s chambers.

Riseon could barely remain standing. His vision blurred, and it felt as if someone was furiously ringing bells in his head. He was at his limit, but he needed to hold on until he got the tome. A short while later, the Earl returned, carrying a leather-bound book.

“This… is Airdren’s tome.”

Expecting intricate magical patterns, Riseon was surprised to see only the name “Airdren” embossed in gold on the reddish-brown cover. His trembling hands took the book, staining it with blood. It wouldn’t affect its readability.

Even now, he didn’t let go of the knife.

“Please, Riseon. At least let us treat you.”

At the Earl’s desperate plea, Riseon felt a pang of guilt, but his heart grew cold. What if Uraine had acted the same way? Their parents would likely have been furious and dragged Uraine straight to the underground prison. The fact that such thoughts came so naturally was itself not normal—for his family or for him.

“Revien.”

Riseon turned to look at his eldest brother. Revien, too, was staring at his younger brother in stunned disbelief.

“We’ve taken too much from Uraine.”

“…What?”

“Let’s give some of it back. Even just a little.”

Riseon’s whispered words made Revien tilt his head unconsciously, his eyes flickering with emotion. With the hand holding the knife, Riseon grasped Revien’s shoulder.

“He’s our brother. Our blood. The youngest… not just some distant relative or a neighbor’s child. And yet, look at what we’ve done to him.”

“….”

His words trailed off. A sharp pain split his head, and darkness overtook his vision in an instant. It seemed he had lost too much blood. With his remaining strength, Riseon clutched Revien’s collar.

“If I don’t wake up in Iser… I’ll kill you and then myself…”

Revien’s eyes widened in shock.

“Riseon lost consciousness, so we kept feeding him medicine while riding nonstop to reach Iser. Fortunately, we avoided the embarrassment of knocking on the castle gates in the dead of night,” Revien remarked with a faint laugh, as though joking, though it was anything but. They had simply arrived at the exact moment the gates opened.

“…Why bother explaining so much?”

The words came in a faint, cracked voice. I approached Riseon, who was still as pale as death but awake and speaking.

“How is he?”

“He’s remarkably resilient, and the magic potions for blood regeneration have helped him survive the worst. Had he taken any other kind of potion, his condition might have deteriorated further. A wise decision on his part.”

“Something he must have learned himself,” Revien said calmly. When one loses a lot of blood, replenishment through magic potions is the priority. I remembered hearing those very words from Riseon.

Despite the treatment, Riseon looked dazed, breathing heavily, seemingly overwhelmed by the pain.

“Painkillers…”

“He’s already had the maximum dosage,” the doctor said with a troubled expression as Count Kiara approached. The Count gently placed a hand on Riseon’s messy, sweat-drenched forehead and cast a spell. A bluish light spread from his forehead across his body. After a while, Riseon’s tense features softened.

“Ha… thank you, truly,” Riseon murmured, his voice still cracked but with a hint of regained strength. The Count, as if he’d merely done his duty, nodded briefly and stepped back. Riseon’s complexion looked significantly better, and his pain seemed to have eased considerably.

“Thank you, Count.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Uraine.”

Riseon, panting, lifted his upper body slightly to look at me.

“What are you doing? Lie back down.”

“…This.”

From his chest, he pulled out a book and handed it to me. Neither large nor small, the leather-bound book bore only the name “Airdren” embossed in gold. It was covered in blood.

“Sorry, it got a little bloody.”

A little? It was drenched. But that hardly mattered now. As I took the book, I looked at Riseon, silently asking what this was. Revien answered for him.

“It’s the tome that contains everything about Airdren’s magic.”

“…”

Ah, that’s right. Riseon had said he did all this to retrieve it. I had been so distracted by his injuries that the thought had slipped my mind. Holding the tome in my hands, I stood there, feeling as if I had just been entrusted with a forbidden treasure, unsure of what to do.

“It’s yours. It always was.”

“Yes, Uraine. It’s what you should have learned.”

My father was the predecessor of my magic.

He had taught me very little. All I knew was how dangerous my magic was, how many lives it could take, and what would happen if anyone discovered I had used it. “You carry poison in your veins,” he had said. “Always act as though your body is covered in knives. Your blood brings nothing but harm.” That was all he ever told me.

Revien continued, “The knowledge of magic is passed from one heir to the next. But in case that becomes impossible, each family keeps a tome as a safeguard.”

“So… it’s basically an instruction manual.”

Riseon chuckled weakly, even in this state. Feeling a mix of emotions, I shot him a sharp glance before returning my gaze to the tome. The family’s magical tome, which Riseon had risked his life to retrieve. What was I supposed to do with it?

“…”

When I raised my head, the Archduke was looking at me. The storm in my heart seemed to settle, as if quieted by his gaze. Memories of gentle whispers, the sound of footsteps in the snow, and the scent of fruit trees drifted through my mind like soft white light in the darkness.

“Your Highness.”

I approached the Archduke. My two brothers merely watched in silence.

“I know nothing about magic. I’ve never been taught. All I’ve ever heard is that my magic is cursed—something that kills people. So…”

Holding out the blood-stained book, I offered it to him.

“Please, help me, Your Highness.”

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