I Refuse This Life, Your Highness! - Chapter 98

I had regained all the memories of my past lives. But they were, quite literally, memories of a life that had passed. As each day unfolded in this reality, those memories grew fainter.

I had experienced countless events with the Duke in this life. If time were to turn back, what would happen to all those moments? They would become nothing more than another past life. Events erased, no longer real. Where would they all go?

Would I meet the Duke again, remembering only my first life?

Would the Duke have to witness my death again?

I didn’t want that.

I clung to him, shaking my head.

“No.”

“…Yuraine.”

“Don’t do it.”

But the Duke avoided answering. Was it because he didn’t want to make a promise he couldn’t keep? In the end, I said no more and simply wrapped my arms around his neck. The emotions in that desperate embrace said far more than words ever could. My meaningless murmurs flowed into his ears, and his ragged breaths soaked into me.

The Duke’s body completely covered mine. The heat, the humidity, the scent of him—it was overwhelming, like being thrown into a blazing furnace. I tried to steady my breathing but eventually gave up, panting like someone who had just finished a long run. The Duke lightly brushed his fingers across the corner of my eyes.

“…Is it too much?”

His voice was low and sweet. It was too much, but I shook my head. I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to stay like this, feeling him with every fiber of my being, pushing all other thoughts away. Clinging to him tightly was the only thing I could do.

The sound of raindrops hitting the ground seeped in through the window, mingling with the dampness in the air. It was a dreary winter rain. The fact that it wasn’t snow suggested that the temperature outside was slightly above freezing. Rain was easier to deal with than heavy snow, so in a way, it was better.

The Duke stood with one hand resting on the edge of the dressing table, staring into the mirror. The unlit study was as dark as a room draped in heavy curtains. He stood like a solid statue, commanding the darkness around him.

Lightning flashed, followed by a thunderous rumble that rolled across the sky. The jagged shadow of rain streaked across the latticed windows, momentarily casting its pattern on the floor before vanishing.

In the brief illumination from the lightning, the Duke’s face appeared as somber as the surrounding darkness. Despite the clamor of the rain, he stood in still silence. It was as though the noise from outside dared not intrude upon the eerie calm surrounding him.

Yuraine kept pleading with him, over and over again, not to turn back time. Could he truly abide by her wishes? If she were to die in this life, could he let it go and live on without resetting the clock?

No.

It would simply turn six nightmares into seven. The endings of all his past lives had been nightmares.

The first was the worst. The sound of the guillotine blade falling, the blood spraying everywhere, the weight of the severed head in his hands—none of it could be forgotten. With a dry hand, the Duke rubbed his face. The sound of rain hammered at his ears, bringing back echoes of that execution ground.

Those transparent, violet eyes dimming in his hands. A human head was lighter than he’d expected, yet heavier than anything on earth. He had closed Yuraine’s unblinking eyes and held him to his chest. That was when he truly understood the weight of loss.

Thus began the repetition. Each time, he foresaw Yuraine’s death, and no matter how hard he tried, the visions always came true. Eventually, he had resorted to threatening, pleading, and even begging Reia to turn back time. In the sixth life, he had gone so far as to kneel before him. With hollow eyes, Reia had reluctantly turned back the clock once more.

And now, in this life, for the first time, he had seen a different future. In the garden of the Duke’s castle, Yuraine stood, turning to face him with a slow, radiant smile—a smile of pure happiness.

That future. Prophecies had never been wrong before, so he believed that future would come. Yet part of him feared that day. Once the prophesied day passed, wouldn’t misfortune strike again at any moment?

Too many strange things had already happened in this life. While he had killed the Emperor before, a full-blown war had never occurred in any of his previous six lives. Nor had the Emperor’s abilities been so vividly apparent.

The Emperor’s magic could surface anywhere, at any time. No matter how vigilant one was, it was impossible to guard against his mind-control spells completely. And it wasn’t even necessary to meet the Emperor’s eyes directly; artifacts like crystal orbs could partially manipulate one’s mind, even if imperfectly.

Mind-control magic had its flaws. First, the target’s subconscious needed to have even a sliver of willingness to act in alignment with the caster’s desires. Without that, the spell would falter. For example, to compel someone to kill, the target had to harbor some hatred for the victim.

In the first life, the Duke had initially suspected and distrusted Yuraine, which likely provided fertile ground for the spell. It must have been cast on their wedding day. From the second life onward, however, he had cleared away his suspicions and opened his heart to Yuraine. Despite the same spell being cast, it had no effect.

Moreover, the human mind was incredibly complex and resistant to external influence. Simply interacting with someone familiar could undo the spell. Additionally, mind-control magic couldn’t be cast on multiple people simultaneously, and even when it was successful, it would unravel over time.

This was why the Empire, despite wielding such a formidable magic, had failed to dominate the continent. Though the Duke’s first life had been ruined beyond repair.

Yes, ruined. A nightmarish conclusion. Yuraine, too, had once described his first life as an unspeakable nightmare when he could recall only that life. Shouldn’t vengeance be sought, even if those events were now mere memories?

The Duke let out a hollow laugh. Among those who had tormented Yuraine in that life, he was included.

The Duke sometimes thought that Yuraine should take revenge on him—for his suspicion, his ignorance, his foolishness. Sins for which no excuse could suffice.

But just as much, he wished to be loved by him. Not hated, but cherished. He wanted Yuraine to accept him, even when he made mistakes due to his clumsy and inadequate nature. He harbored such selfish thoughts, even though he knew he could never repay Yuraine for all the pain he had caused.

“Yuraine.”

The Duke murmured the name softly. Just saying it filled his chest with an overwhelming ache. He repeated the name several times, mumbling it to himself. Thunder rumbled again, loud and sharp. Perhaps Yuraine had awakened to the sound and was looking for him.

Thinking he should return to his chambers, he turned to face the mirror in the darkness.

A pair of piercing golden eyes glared back at him.

* * *

The following day, a report arrived that enemy forces were beginning to move. It was predicted that they were heading from the Nibes estate toward Iser. With the distance, it would take about 20 days for them to arrive with their troops. It seemed they had set out early due to the considerable distance.

Rumors were spreading that the war would break out near that region.

As war approached, my responsibilities increased. While the Duke and the steward managed military supplies, clothing, and provisions, I had to oversee plans for civilian aid and the construction of temporary shelters in case of an emergency. I also needed to manage the rumors circulating among the territory’s residents.

The Rubes trading company was traveling toward Iser with a large shipment of supplies. While Lyol was officially supporting us as a future emperor, it was also a calculated move to leverage his trading company for the war effort. Having an entire large-scale trading company as an ally was an enormous advantage.

I was stamping approval on the purchase plans Reia had sorted for me when an unexpected guest arrived: Lyol.

“Are you busy, Your Highness? And you too, Reia?”

“As you can see, I’m very busy… What do you need?”

“Oh, nothing much. Just here to offer some encouragement, I suppose?”

It wasn’t encouraging at all.

To be honest, I didn’t feel like dealing with him right now. At this stage, there wasn’t much he could do beyond mentally preparing himself, so he had plenty of free time. Apparently, he had been wandering aimlessly around the castle since yesterday, feeling lonely because no one had the time to engage with him.

Though, given the circumstances, it was understandable. Preparing for rebellion while having little to occupy his mind might leave anyone feeling restless. Even I found that stopping work for a moment allowed my thoughts to become unbearably tangled.

“Posters have been put up around the capital,” Lyol said, apparently deciding to linger. Without looking up from the documents, I asked absently, “What posters?”

“They say that Duke Iser is plotting to assassinate the Emperor and that his forces will soon invade the capital, sparking a war.”

At his words, I froze and turned to look at him. So did Reia.

“The rumors are causing unrest among the people in the capital. Prices have skyrocketed,” Lyol continued.

The Rubes trading company was already transporting a large stockpile of goods to Iser to stabilize prices. I looked at Lyol suspiciously, wondering if he might have sold off some of those goods at the capital for profit. Sensing my doubt, Lyol raised both hands defensively, looking aggrieved.

“It’s not like that. But think about it—how terrifying must it be to hear that Duke Iser is coming? Even for the capital’s citizens.”

He sighed dramatically, as if the situation personally affected him.

“If you’re just here to chat… we’re a bit busy,” Reia finally said, breaking his silence. Lyol smirked, as if expecting such a response.

“Yes, yes. I’ll be going soon. I’m just poking around here and there because I feel anxious.”

“…”

For someone destined to be the next emperor, he seemed rather unreliable at the moment. Lyol disappeared as quickly as he had appeared, the door closing with a dull thud. Reia, who had been staring at the closed door, murmured quietly.

“When he looks at us, I wonder if he sees the First Prince?”

“Well… it’s possible,” I replied.

As fellow Lamias, it wasn’t a far-fetched notion. Or rather, it was almost certainly true. It was a bit unsettling, but considering the way he had lost his kin at such a young age, it was also understandable.

“Let’s get back to work,” I said.

Reia let out a brief sigh and resumed flipping through the documents.

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