I Refuse This Life, Your Highness! - Chapter 88

For a moment, I couldn’t help but feel a sharp sensation. In front of me, Erma’s collapsed figure seemed to merge with that of the Emperor. The perpetrator and the teacher. Both of them were receiving pain at once by my hand.

“I understand why the Emperor is about to start a war.”

“…Do you mean because of this?”

“The Emperor’s pride is more valuable than the nation itself.”

It was truly an expensive pride. He wasn’t enraged because he had lost an eye or felt actual pain; he was furious merely from experiencing the sensation. On the one hand, I couldn’t help but feel a bit uneasy, wondering if my personal emotions were the cause of such an outcome.

The Duke quickly sensed my feelings and added:

“It was going to be a war anyway. The timing was just moved up.”

“That’s true, Your Grace.”

When the Count also said this, I had nothing more to say. I, too, believed that the Emperor would have started a war. The purpose was the Duke’s life. The Emperor wanted to control him and kill him far more than I had anticipated. That much had been clear from all the memories of my past lives.

“How is Erma’s condition?”

“Actually, I think it’s meaningless to try to break the brainwashing now.”

“Meaningless?”

“Yes.”

The Count snapped his fingers in front of Erma’s face. Despite the sharp sound, the eye that remained bandaged did not move. The unmoving eye sent a chill down my spine.

“The connection to the Emperor has been severed, but the period of continuous brainwashing was too long, and she can hardly return to her senses. It’s hard to say if it will be possible… or hopeful…”

Erma, vacant-eyed, resembled a giant cloth doll. A dirty doll abandoned in a junkyard. No, more like a bundle of straw haphazardly shaped into a human form. She had no vitality, no spirit. She gave off no sense of life at all.

“…Count, I have a question.”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“If she hadn’t been brainwashed, what kind of person would Erma have been?”

Perhaps, from childhood, she had been brainwashed for so long that she lost everything. If that was the case, I might end up feeling sorry or guilty. But really, this was a selfish question to ease my own mind.

The Count, instead of answering directly, looked into Erma’s eyes and spoke.

“Brainwashing isn’t omnipotent. If you brainwash someone in complete opposition to their will, it can easily be undone, and it’s hard to even initiate it. But if Erma has been with the Emperor and became so immersed in his influence from a young age, that means Erma and the Emperor’s natures aligned.”

“I see.”

Perhaps, this was the answer I had wanted to hear. Wanting to hear such an answer might be even more selfish, but I couldn’t help it. Already, I felt a deep, trembling fear and dislike not only for the Emperor’s manipulation of Erma, but for both the Emperor and Erma herself.

But what if Erma hadn’t wanted this at all? What if, against her will, she had been forced to do these things? Should I forgive her? That was the question I had been grappling with.

“Is it possible to have even a brief conversation with her?”

At the Duke’s question, I flinched. What if, after talking to her, Erma says that none of this was by her own will? I would certainly not believe it, but I couldn’t entirely disregard those words. The Count answered.

“It’s possible, if only for a very brief time. But beyond that, it would be difficult.”

“I understand, Count. Make sure Erma is in a state where she can speak, and then we will leave. You’ve worked hard.”

At the Duke’s words, the Count touched Erma’s forehead and poured light into it. It was almost as if he were pushing the light in. The entire prison brightened with a brilliant blue light.

The Count, noticing Erma starting to stir, immediately rose from his seat. His face looked quite tired. I told him he had worked hard too, and the Count gently took my hand and smiled.

“Your Grace, you seem quite fatigued as well. It would be best for you to rest.”

“…Alright. B, you go with the Count and rest.”

“W-What? Yes… I’ll do that.”

The Duke seemed to have something he wanted to discuss with Erma. I wanted to stay by his side, but with his firm words, I couldn’t help but leave him and follow the Count to the entrance of the underground prison.

But just before climbing the stairs, I stopped in my tracks. I turned to the Count and said:

“I’ll wait here for His Grace and leave afterward.”

For a moment, the Count seemed like he was going to stop me, but perhaps realizing it wouldn’t be effective or thinking it was better this way, he didn’t say anything more and stepped up the stairs.

“Don’t overexert yourself.”

“Thank you.”

After exchanging those quiet words, the Count left the prison first. The gray winter sky and the long, narrow windows that clung to the ceiling didn’t allow any sunlight inside even by midday. At least the underground prison of the Duke’s castle had these windows, but in Airden, it was completely dark underground.

I remembered being locked up in a cave as a child, and I thought that, if I had to choose, I would take the cave a hundred times over, as that place was far worse.

I raised my head and looked down the hallway that led further into the prison. The steps, made of large stones, created a descending path that made it harder to see the sunlight as you went deeper inside.

The space, with its characteristic echo, made even the faintest sound resonate. I could barely hear the Duke’s voice. Of course, I couldn’t make out the words, but I could sense the tone. If I could hear that much, I would have heard the conversation between me and the Count. His familiar voice buzzed like it was underwater, reverberating and faintly spreading to where I was.

What kind of conversation were they having with someone who had lost their mind? Even if they were able to have a brief exchange, how much could they truly communicate? What would Erma say? No matter what, she was a close confidant of the Duke, practically his foster sibling, and a trusted friend for a long time.

“Trust Erma,” was the brainwashing the Emperor had instilled in her long ago. Over time, it had weakened and finally unraveled with a single word from me, but even now, in my seventh life, Erma remained very close to the Duke.

So, the Duke had once said that he felt as though the Emperor had killed his childhood friend. That was also true. Without the Emperor’s brainwashing, Erma, though her nature might not have been perfect, would not have done such things to me. Perhaps she would have been caught for corruption and exiled, but nothing worse.

What could they be talking about…? I almost wanted to go and listen, but I didn’t have the courage for that. I lingered near the stairs for a while.

Then I heard a chilling sound.

The moment the sound reached me, I instinctively wrapped my hands around my neck. Screech, thud. That was unmistakably the sound of a head being severed. In an instant, it felt like all the blood had drained from my body. I trembled, holding my neck, and stared toward the inside of the prison. What had just happened? No, could I have misheard? I hoped so. My heart pounded like crazy, and I felt a strong urge to scream and cry.

Footsteps grew closer from within. Surely, Erma wasn’t coming out of there, was she? I watched the entrance with absurd thoughts racing through my mind. The view was narrow and unclear, making it difficult to see who was approaching. Black clothes, a cloak, and a sword at the waist.

Soon, the figure came close enough for me to make it out clearly. It was the Duke, with a calm expression, as though nothing had happened. A wave of relief washed over me, and I felt a little lighter, but my heart was still pounding heavily, as though weighed down by lead, and my body remained tense. The sound of the guillotine’s blade cutting my neck kept echoing in my ears.

“…Yurein.”

The Duke, spotting me, quickly came up the wide hallway stairs. By the time I realized I had collapsed on the floor, he was already kneeling down to wrap his arms around me. His hand covered mine, which was still clutching my neck. The warmth of his hand spread over my icy cold fingers. Though there was no trace of the sound I had heard on his body, I could faintly smell blood.

“E-Erma…”

I couldn’t even speak properly.

“I killed her… I told you to stay back.”

“You… killed her? Did you… behead her?”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were listening. I should have asked the Count to take you back to your room.”

I shook my head, aimlessly. The memories of six past deaths swirled in my head, tearing at my heart and stomach. My body, trembling uncontrollably, felt as though it was floating. The Duke had lifted me into his arms.

“Your Grace…”

“You never let me feel at ease.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“That’s not what I meant. It’s just that I worry about you too much.”

The Duke, holding me, walked quickly out of the underground prison and toward my room. The faint smell of blood on his body gradually faded, replaced by his own unique scent. My dizziness and nausea slowly started to subside.

At the entrance of the prison, the Duke ordered the guards and attendants to fetch a doctor, and without stopping, he carried me to my room. He took off my shoes, without even bothering to put on slippers, and went straight to the bed. Once there, he undid the buttons of my dress, both front and back.

Though it was embarrassing, he was surprisingly skilled at undressing me, and in no time, I was left in nothing but a single undergarment. When Bohen quickly brought a nightgown, the Duke draped it over me and loosely tied the strings.

Soon, the doctors arrived and busily burned calming incense while giving me medicine. Throughout the two rounds of medicine, I remained in the Duke’s arms. Though I tried to push him away, embarrassed by the situation, he was as unmovable as a wall, and I was too weak to resist.

It was only after some time had passed that I began to calm down. My surroundings came into focus, and I could clearly see the Duke’s expression. His face was filled with concern. I felt a pang in my heart, realizing that I had caused him unnecessary worry.

“Why were you even there?”

“Various reasons… I was worried. About what kind of conversation you were having with Erma, and just… everything.”

As I answered slowly, the Duke pulled me into a tight embrace and gently stroked my hair and back. Just like the medicine, his embrace brought me deep comfort. Though the feeling of death still lingered like a faint burn, I could bear it, and it seemed like it would fade completely soon.

Emerging from such immense fear and anxiety felt like opening the door to a familiar, perfectly safe room after running through a long, dark path. And in that room, the Duke was there.

After a deep sigh, I hesitated before asking him:

“What did Erma… say?”

“Well…”

The Duke answered quietly.

“You already know from seeing what I did to her.”

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