TMLST C7

Chapter 7. An Unexpected Truth (2)

“Until now, you’ve never collapsed even once, have you? So I can’t help but feel that I bear at least some responsibility.”

“Even if there were some fault on your part, I have no intention of blaming another for the condition of my own body.”

I forced down the words that nearly choked me in disbelief and managed to respond. If he truly thought it was his fault, then he should be trying not to stand out—not brazenly showing his face like this.

“And just as you said, I also find it rather rude that you came to see me without even sending a single letter, considering we are no longer engaged.”

“Oh dear, it seems Her Imperial Highness is quite upset. I apologize for arriving without prior notice. However, I came in such haste because I wished to see you, so I hope you will understand with your generous heart.”

What is he even saying? I forced the crease between my brows to relax and put on a polite smile.

“You keep saying things I cannot understand. Didn’t you say it yourself? That we are no longer engaged?”

“In truth, breaking off the engagement was a decision made for Your Highness’s sake.”

“…Pardon?”

Now he’s shifting the blame? The situation was so absurd that I nearly laughed, but I held it in. He seemed like the type to misinterpret even the smallest reaction.

“But now I realize that ending the engagement was not for Your Highness’s benefit after all.”

I stayed silent, wondering what nonsense he would spout next. He rested his chin on his hand—as if convinced it was his most handsome angle—and met my gaze steadily.

“How about we try again?”

He should be groveling on the ground, yet here he was, shamelessly suggesting we start over. How could I strike him verbally while still maintaining my dignity?

“…Haa.”

I steadied my breathing, engraving the words “courtesy” and “dignity” into my mind before speaking calmly.

“I’m sorry. I have no intention of doing so.”

“I beg your pardon? …Could you repeat that?”

He had looked so composed, as if he expected this outcome, but it seemed my words registered a moment too late. His expression remained smiling, as though he believed he had simply misheard.

“I have no intention of becoming engaged to you again, nor of marrying you.”

“…You mean you have no intention of seeing me again?”

His face showed clear confusion. Had he assumed I would accept without question? Where did that confidence even come from? Even if my fiancé had resembled Aaron half as much, I would have hesitated. But Livius was nothing like that.

“Yes.”

At my firm answer, Livius’s expression hardened. His pride must have been wounded.

Well, that was only natural. Livius was the type who lived and breathed his pride. When I read the novel, I had often wanted to crush that boundless arrogance of his—but I hadn’t expected it to happen this early. The fact that he had walked here himself, practically asking to be trampled, was something I could at least be grateful for.

“It seems you were hurt because I unilaterally broke off the engagement—”

“No, not at all. You said it yourself—it was for my sake. So I’ll accept it as such.”

I cut him off, finishing what I had to say. There was nothing more worth hearing.

Why is he being so persistent?

Suppressing a sigh, I lifted the teacup before me and took a sip.

After briefly lowering my gaze, I looked back at Livius. The smile he had worn was already gone. Only a distorted expression remained. Had Elia been someone easy to take advantage of? Or had she truly loved him enough to overlook everything and accept him?

“I truly made that choice for Your Highness. Please believe me.”

Judging by his reaction, Elia must have been someone who couldn’t even bring herself to say such a thing to him. Though he appeared to be yielding, irritation flickered beneath his pleading expression.

Livius himself seemed to think he was going too far. So why was he this desperate for me to accept him?

The reason Livius abandoned Elia had likely been simple. She was a princess in name only, with no real power. Someone as obsessed with authority and prestige as Livius would never keep a useless, powerless princess by his side. When she was healthy, she might have seemed like a suitable match—but once she fell ill and withdrew from social life, the title of “the princess’s fiancé” must have lost all value.

It was obvious.

“Yes, perhaps what you say is true. And that choice was the right one. Which is precisely why I’m telling you I have nothing more to discuss.”

“…Your Highness.”

“Yes?”

At this point, we should have no reason to meet again. His pride alone would prevent him from clinging to me any further.

“I will return another time, so please think it over carefully. Perhaps this is too sudden, and you’re simply acting out of anger toward me.”

Contrary to my expectations, Livius persisted stubbornly.

What exactly had happened before the original story? Why was he the one who broke off the engagement, yet now insisted on renewing it?

I didn’t know everything, but one thing was certain—I couldn’t trust Livius’s words. There had to be some benefit for him in rekindling things with me.

“My decision won’t change, but if that’s what you believe, then please take your leave. I’m tired.”

“I hope you will make a wise decision.”

Livius stepped closer, lowered himself, and before I could react, took my hand and pressed his lips to the back of it.

A shiver ran down my entire body.

Since he realized I wouldn’t easily yield, he was now pretending to be some ridiculous romantic. It was a complete contrast to the almost-proposal he had just made. I nearly cursed out loud but swallowed it, pulling my hand free from his grasp.

“I won’t see you out. Please leave safely.”

That was the extent of my courtesy.

“Next time, I hope you will remember the name Livius Paolo.”

With those final words, he turned and left the room. Whether he thought I was deliberately avoiding saying his name, or whether he knew I had lost my memory and wanted to test me, he revealed his name only at the very end.

Watching the door close, I reached out and touched the teacup on the table. The tea was still faintly warm—it hadn’t been as long as it felt.

“Marquis Livius is quite thoughtless, isn’t he? To not even take a single sip of the tea that was served.”

When I spoke, the maid flinched and bowed deeply. She stood there, tense and slightly hunched, with a rather cute appearance. For a moment, I wondered if she had appeared in the original story—but that wasn’t important right now.

“I’m sorry, but please dispose of the remaining tea and the cup.”

“Yes, Your Highness!”

The maid hurriedly brought a tray and cleared the teacup. A moment later, from the adjoining room where she had gone, came the sharp sound of shattering porcelain.

Though I had borrowed the maid’s hand to do it, it was my first act of defiance in this imperial palace.

* * *

“I’ve just returned from visiting Princess Elia.”

Livius entered without knocking, speaking in a flat tone. It was the only place within the imperial palace where he came and went without restriction.

“And how was she?”

At his voice, the silver-haired man seated at the desk slowly raised his head. Crimson eyes were revealed—this was Llewellyn’s study.

After setting aside the document he had been reading, Llewellyn straightened his posture and met Livius’s gaze across from him.

“It seems certain that she has lost her memory.”

“Is that so?”

Llewellyn looked at him with interest, as if urging him to continue. Memory loss hadn’t been part of the plan, but seeing the Emperor show some concern for Elia, Livius had decided it might work to his advantage and reported it to him.

As long as the Emperor’s support existed, Elia’s usefulness would be temporary.

“She’s quite bold now. It almost reminds me of the Elia from before. Though before she collapsed, she was so pathetic it wasn’t even amusing.”

He let out a low chuckle.

Livius found it entertaining. He didn’t particularly like her insolent attitude—but there was a certain pleasure in breaking someone like that. Once you had made a woman submit once, there was no reason you couldn’t do it again.

“Bold… you say.”

Unlike Livius, whose face still carried amusement, the smile gradually faded from Llewellyn’s. Ever since Elia had been stricken with an incurable illness, she had steadily lost her confidence. The idea that she had returned to her former self was not welcome news to him.

After all, he had worked to crush her spirit.

“It may become troublesome… but thanks to her memory loss, we’ve gained another opportunity. If she starts causing a disturbance, it would be inconvenient, so His Majesty will be keeping a close watch on her. That period won’t last long.”

“While the Emperor’s attention is on Elia, we should take advantage of it. Even if only to crush the families that support her.”

At Livius’s words, Llewellyn let out a cold smile, the corner of his lips lifting briefly.

The families that supported Elia.

“Once you marry her and show unwavering support for me, their opinions will change. In the end, the one who will ascend the throne… is me.”