Your Majesty, I’m Not that Man - Chapter 3: Your Majesty, Why Are You Doing This? (6)

For the second time, Lavinia found herself regaining consciousness in Cassion’s arms, utterly baffled by the situation. Was this man, who seemed so oblivious to himself, actually gay?

The way he embraced her and kissed her so naturally, thrusting his hips with such skill, was nothing short of extraordinary. He had a talent that could seduce men and women alike—that much was clear in his character’s design. But still… why was he acting this way toward her?

“Your destiny lies outside the capital!”

Because Albert had been banished from the capital, Lavinia assumed he was somewhere far away. She couldn’t have imagined that he had returned to the capital out of concern for her.

“No, it’s fine. I predicted this might go on for a few days… it’ll pass eventually. How long could it really last?”

Cassion preferred men to women.

This was clearly stated in the original story, so Lavinia never once thought he might be attracted to her. True, his gaze lingered on her a little too intently, making her feel uneasy, but the preconceived notions she had were too strong to waver.

“It’ll fizzle out soon enough… I just wish he’d lose interest already.”

If she could, Lavinia would have done something to make herself utterly unappealing to him. But the fear of angering Cassion and losing her life kept her from acting out.

“This life of being stuck between a rock and a hard place…”

The only consolation she could find was that Cassion was exceptionally handsome and… skilled. So skilled, in fact, that it felt like she might die of pleasure whenever they were intimate. Being embraced by him wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

“Ah, he really is ridiculously good-looking.”

Albert was a heterosexual character, but the story still introduced countless other supporting male characters besides Cassion. Naturally, as this was a BL story, all of them were men. Albert, being uninterested in men, regarded them with lukewarm indifference. Among all the supporting male characters, though, Cassion was the most impressive in appearance and material wealth.

“Still, I wouldn’t say Albert was lucky.”

No matter how exceptional Cassion was, Albert was still a heterosexual man. Being surrounded by male admirers could hardly have been enjoyable. To make matters worse, by the end of the story, he ended up bearing Cassion’s child—an absolute nightmare for a man like Albert.

“I do feel bad for Albert… but Cassion isn’t someone I can handle anyway.”

Cassion was the strongest being in the story. He had eradicated every other bloodline capable of producing transcendents, leaving himself as the only one in existence.

Even Albert, a sword master in his own right, had been treated like a mere child by Cassion. It was no wonder Albert had given up on so many things.

“It’s a good thing he doesn’t actually like me. If a stalker like this existed in the real world… my life would be over.”

If it were a mutual love, it might have been tolerable. But the idea of being stalked by such a powerful figure was utterly terrifying.

Finding solace in that thought, Lavinia closed her eyes again. Who knew when Cassion would wake up and cling to her again? She needed to get as much rest as possible while she could.

The presence beside her, which had seemed deep in thought, quieted down. When Lavinia’s breathing evened out, Cassion cautiously opened his eyes.

“Is she asleep?”

He had been startled awake earlier, feeling as though Lavinia’s gaze was on him. Of course, that startled feeling was only internal—outwardly, he hadn’t moved a muscle. He almost wished she had said something to tease him.

Instead, he had just lain there, holding his breath, wondering what she was thinking. But eventually, her attention seemed to wane, and she fell asleep again.

“Strange woman.”

The Duke of Wendel’s daughter had been peculiar from the start. From asking to be a concubine rather than an empress to the occasional way she would look at him—it all struck him as unusual.

Her gaze, which seemed to want nothing from him, unsettled Cassion. It made him anxious, unsure of how to hold her attention.

“Hold her attention?”

Why did he even feel the need to hold onto her gaze? He was the emperor. People naturally lowered their heads in his presence. He was someone who commanded attention by default.

Lavinia should have been no different…

“No, that’s not it. It’s not like that.”

He wanted her to look at him, but not in a simple way. Cassion wanted Lavinia to look at him the way he looked at her—with a fluttering heart, a chest that swelled and trembled, a sense of longing that made his pulse race.

Cassion, who had been staring blankly at Lavinia, suddenly flinched in shock.

Is this… is this what it means to love her?!

Panicked, he hastily pulled himself away from Lavinia. He shot up from the bed and looked at her, heart pounding furiously.

Lavinia, exhausted from the way he had pushed her earlier, was still sleeping soundly. But Cassion’s heart, already racing, beat even harder, and his face turned red.

I’m in love with Lavinia!

It was an unthinkable realization. He had never imagined he could love someone, let alone a woman from a high-ranking noble family. After all, he despised nobles to the core.

He had always thought he would live alone, ruling this empire from above, towering over everyone.

But now, Cassion felt himself sinking—his pride and superiority crumbling—just from the realization that he had fallen in love.

Cassion climbed off the bed. He moved as if to flee the room, but then paused. The thought of seeing Lavinia again suddenly tugged at him.

She was still fast asleep, her peaceful face bathed in quiet moonlight. Just looking at her made his chest tighten, as if it were being crushed. He hesitated. He wanted to be near her, to love her. He never thought such fragile and tender emotions could exist within him.

Would she… could she ever love me back?

The thought filled him with fear.

Cassion was a man who had spent his life exacting revenge against others, inflicting as much pain on others as had been inflicted on him—sometimes even more. He had trampled people, crushed them utterly.

What would Lavinia see when she looked at him?

For most women, he would have been an object of admiration. But Lavinia was different from the aristocratic women he had encountered and despised throughout his life.

She won’t love me, he thought bitterly.

For the first time in his life, Cassion felt ashamed of the bloodstains on his hands. While some of his actions had been for survival, many had been acts of domination—a display of his power and control.

He had never hesitated to kill. Cassion had always believed he was born to rule over others.

But now, he found himself wanting to kneel at the feet of this delicate woman.

“No. That can’t be. Love? There’s no way I could love her!”

Overwhelmed by fear, Cassion forcibly averted his gaze and turned away. He was terrified of hearing rejection, or worse, words of scorn, from her lips.

Even as he left the room, he glanced back at Lavinia one last time. Her peaceful, sleeping face twisted his heart painfully.

“It can’t be. It’s not true…”

His quiet footsteps grew distant as he left Lavinia’s bedroom.

＊ ＊ ＊

Maxim was seething with frustration. There was far too much to do. It was hard to believe that he had once managed all of this himself. While his past experience would allow him to quickly get back up to speed, the workload was still overwhelming.

He knew all too well that hiring more people would only get him so far. Unless he planned to hand the fate of the ducal house over to some fraudster, there were tasks that he simply had to handle himself.

“If only Lavinia… or at least Albert were here!”

Albert, who had been adopted as the next successor, had helped Lavinia with her duties. While not as proficient as her, he had been competent enough to earn some praise.

For the past few years, Maxim had enjoyed a relatively carefree life, neglecting his responsibilities as duke. And now, this burden had fallen squarely back onto his shoulders, feeling like a bolt from the blue.

Even when he hadn’t been paying attention, the duchy had been running smoothly—because of Lavinia’s efforts.

“Leni…”

Now, he finally felt the absence of his daughter. But it was pointless to think about her—Lavinia was already the emperor’s woman. Maxim sighed, realizing just how much her absence was impacting him.

After barely finishing the most pressing tasks and taking a moment to catch his breath, he noticed something odd: someone who should have been nearby was nowhere to be found.

“…Where is Hans?”

Maxim’s question prompted his secretary, who had been sorting through paperwork, to look up.

“I’m not sure. He mentioned bringing you tea earlier and headed toward the kitchen…”

There was no reason to concern himself with the movements of a mere servant. Even though Hans was technically Maxim’s lover, he outwardly maintained the role of a servant in the ducal household.

“Should I send someone to fetch him?”

The secretary asked cautiously, gauging Maxim’s mood. Maxim hesitated.

Hans had been pestering him relentlessly ever since hearing that Lavinia would not become empress but rather a concubine. He begged Maxim to adopt Albert once again. Yet, with Albert’s status as a commoner already widely exposed, Maxim doubted it would serve any purpose. Still, he had been feigning indecision to buy himself some time.

“No. He’ll return when he feels like it.”

Hans still hadn’t given up his ambitions for the ducal household. As long as that desire persisted, there was no way Hans would abandon Maxim. He would undoubtedly return soon.

With that thought, Maxim handed the approved documents over to his secretary.

＊ ＊ ＊

Hans felt frustrated. He had to act quickly, but Maxim’s relentless demands weighed on him. If Maxim hadn’t spent the entire night keeping him occupied in the bedroom, Hans would have slipped out of the mansion under the cover of darkness.

“He’s probably fuming by now,” Hans thought with a dry smirk.

Though Maxim was busy with his duties as the duke, Hans knew that he still found him somewhat useful. Maxim wasn’t completely incompetent, after all. He was just a man whose ambitions had been repeatedly thwarted, leaving him devoid of motivation.

Hans was riding toward the outskirts of the capital. The bustling capital always drew a crowd, and as a result, several large and small villages had formed beyond its walls. Passing through the eastern gate at this hour meant he wouldn’t be able to re-enter until dawn, but he had no other choice. Where he was headed demanded discretion, and he planned to approach his destination under the cover of night.

“What excuse should I give to the duke?”

Hans needed to retrieve some hidden money and find the underground mercenary guild to commission information regarding Albert. This would take not only today but at least two more days.

Maxim was bound to explode with rage once he noticed Hans’s absence. Though his attitude toward Hans had grown colder since Albert’s disappearance, Hans still did not doubt Maxim’s affection for him.

After passing through the city walls and riding through the spring fields, Hans entered a modest village and headed toward a shabby three-story inn. He didn’t care about the room’s quality—he only needed a stable for his horse.

Hans left his horse in the care of the innkeeper and climbed to the second floor, where the guest rooms were. As expected, the accommodations were abysmal—dirty, old, and shared by up to eight occupants. Hans didn’t bother lying down on the bed; instead, he sat by the window, waiting for night to fall.

The inn seemed to have few guests, likely due to the early spring season. Though he had the space to himself, Hans didn’t rest. He remained on edge, his thoughts preoccupied with the tasks ahead.

Finally, darkness settled over the land. As he descended the creaking stairs, he noticed the counter was unmanned. The innkeeper had likely retired early for the night, given the lack of customers. That suited Hans just fine.