TMLST C9

Chapter 9. Unexpected Fact (4)

“Just as I said earlier, I came to check on you out of courtesy. Is that not enough? Or are you asking because you’re still unwell and forgot what I said?”

“No, that’s not it. It just seems like there’s more to it. What’s going on?”

Lewellin smiled faintly, the corners of his lips lifting as he turned his gaze to the side and motioned with his chin. Following his line of sight, Elia looked over to see the maid who had served the tea standing there. Without a single word exchanged, the maid seemed to understand Lewellin’s intent, bowed respectfully, and quietly left the room. It was so natural that Elia briefly had the illusion that Lewellin was more the master of this place than she was.

“The matter you’re referring to,” he said.

Elia had been staring at the closed door for a while when Lewellin’s voice came from beside her. She turned her head. His voice, low and composed, made Aaron come to mind almost reflexively. Lewellin’s voice felt different from Aaron’s. If Aaron’s voice was ticklish and light, Lewellin’s carried a sharpness, as if he might smile while driving a dagger in without hesitation. It was only natural that they were different people, yet Aaron’s voice and mannerisms kept overlapping in her mind.

At this point, it might be getting serious.

“I heard Marquis Livius proposed to you, sister.”

She had only pressed him lightly, sensing something off, but Lewellin spoke freely as if he had never intended to hide it in the first place. Whether Livius had told him directly or the maid who had just left had relayed the information, she couldn’t tell. Most likely, it was Livius.

“Yes. How did you know?”

“There are no secrets within the Imperial Palace.”

His smiling face did not waver in the slightest. So he intends to hide the fact that he is close with Livius, does he?

Whatever had happened between Livius and Elia would have been relayed directly through the proper channels, yet Lewellin spoke as if he had only heard it through rumor. While it was difficult for anything to remain secret within the Imperial Palace, the one small relief was that there was no modern surveillance—no wiretapping or similar means. If there had been, anything she attempted would likely be exposed immediately. She probably wouldn’t even have the courage to try anything.

Not that she intended to do anything right now anyway.

“Honestly, I am conflicted.”

“The answer to the proposal, you mean?”

“Yes. It was so sudden… I’m not sure what I should do.”

Feigning uncertainty as if seeking advice, Elia spoke. Lewellin regarded her with a serious expression. Seeing that only reinforced the feeling that this conversation held little real value.

“Marquis Livius undoubtedly loves you sincerely, sister.”

As if there were an ancient serpent living in his mouth, Lewellin lied effortlessly without so much as moistening his lips. Whatever his intention was in pushing this so actively, it did not feel pleasant.

“Sincerely?”

“Yes.”

She knew that Lewellin and Livius were connected through mutual ambition, but the details involving Elia remained unclear, which made the situation all the more frustrating. What reason was there to be so wary of a frail body that could die at any moment?

“So you want me to marry Marquis Livius?”

“I simply want you to marry someone who genuinely loves and cherishes you.”

How convenient. He should at least act properly first.

If Lewellin had always treated her well from the beginning, she might have thought he was a good younger brother who had simply gone astray. In the original story, Elia’s presence was mostly used to show that Lewellin harbored inferiority complexes toward someone in his past. In one such instance, on the day Lewellin first met Rote in the original story, he had thought of Elia.

If Elia had been alive, she would have stood at the same position as Rote—or even higher. And he himself would have met his end at the hands of Elia, the daughter of his lawful wife.

Someone was always destined to die, after all.

“I understand your feelings well, Lewellin. You’re my only younger brother.”

Elia played along with his rhythm in order to extract information not present in the original story, though it was exhausting. The fact that she had to pretend not to know while being fully aware of his intentions was unpleasant. In any case, she only had a few months left to live, and she was unlikely to engage in court society at all—so even going through the motions felt meaningless.

“From the perspective of restoring the Empire, Marquis Livius is not a bad match.”

Lewellin seemed to assume Elia was being persuaded, and continued listing the advantages of marrying Livius: his reputation in noble society, his wealth, and so on. No matter how favorably he tried to present him, her opinion did not change. Whether in writing or in person, Livius had left a terrible first impression.

“Restoration of the Empire…”

Even though she had not gained a single useful piece of information, she had to keep responding, no matter how tiresome it became. If only he would drop even a small clue.

There had also been a scene related to the “restoration of the Empire” in which Lewellin thought of Elia. In it, he ignored Rote—who seemed to show him favor—and chose instead to use her for the sake of the Empire’s revival. The one who reinforced that decision was Livius.

“Your Highness, the Princess’s death was not the Emperor’s fault. It was simply her time.”

Livius had continuously manipulated Lewellin, who kept overlapping Rote and Elia in his mind. He insisted they were separate individuals and that Rote would be of great help. Even so, Lewellin was tormented by the thought that if Elia had lived, she would have taken the throne instead of Rote.

Each time that thought resurfaced, Livius would again whisper that Elia was not meant to be emperor—she was destined to die, and Lewellin was destined to rule.

Remembering this made Livius seem even more detestable.

“He would at least work toward restoration, wouldn’t he?”

“Of course, sister.”

Lewellin quickly seized on Elia’s murmured words like a fisherman catching a big fish. From the perspective of someone possessing her body, seeing how both Livius and Lewellin treated Elia, it felt as though she might have been the type of person easily swayed by others. They seemed confident that well-crafted words alone could steer her wherever they wanted. It was not a pleasant realization.

“Lewellin, you’re quite kind. Even after becoming Crown Prince, you don’t seem to be guarding against me at all and are still willing to help for the sake of the Empire.”

Elia forced her stiff muscles into a gentle smile. She needed to probe carefully to get even remotely close to the answers she wanted.

“Whether Crown Prince or Princess, we are still siblings who share blood. If it benefits the Empire, I believe we must act regardless of succession.”

“Were you not upset that I lost my memory? We must have been very close siblings… I’m sorry.”

“As long as you are healthy, sister, that is enough.”

Lewellin seemed to be reaching his limit as well; faint cracks began to show in his expression. Perhaps speaking in roundabout ways was less effective than suffering together.

“Now that I think about it, Marquis Livius once told me privately to break off the engagement. But I don’t remember it, so I keep overthinking things.”

“Whether the engagement was broken or not is irrelevant. What matters is that Marquis Livius changed his mind and proposed to you again.”

As if that weren’t the real issue at all. No matter how the conversation continued, it felt like there would be no useful outcome. She was starting to want to end this exhausting exchange altogether.

Hadn’t she done enough already?

“Sigh… I think I need time to think. I’m confused.”

As Elia rubbed her temples and frowned, Lewellin’s expression visibly brightened.

So you were struggling too? So was I.

“I’m worried I may have spoken out of turn when you are already unwell. But I hope you understand it was for your sake.”

Lewellin continued to emphasize his sincerity so persistently that, if she were the real Elia and not a possessed soul, she might have believed him. Only after receiving her acknowledgment did he finally leave the room.

He spoke as though marrying Livius and working toward the Empire’s restoration was the correct path for her to ascend the throne. Whether or not the real Elia would have wanted that, she herself had absolutely no interest in the throne. Why would anyone willingly take on something so exhausting? Living comfortably like this was far better.

Time passed again, meaninglessly.

About a week after Lewellin’s visit—

“Your Highness.”

Elia, resting her chin on her hand while staring blankly out the window, heard a maid’s voice through the crack of the door. Wondering what it was, she turned her head—and before she could respond, the door was abruptly flung open.

“…Marquis Livius?”