Your Majesty, I’m Not that Man - Chapter 4. The Tyrant’s Gift (6)

But Lavinia shook her head.

She didn’t know what Cassion was truly thinking, but she didn’t want this moment to become something he would later regret or use against her. His continued goodwill was too precarious to gamble with.

“Stay by my side,” she said, her trembling hands betraying her nerves.

Cassion hesitated for a moment but ultimately couldn’t refuse. If nothing else, it confirmed for her that his intentions, for now, were not hostile.

Together, they climbed into the bed. The dim lighting in the room, reduced to a faint glow, was gentle and nonintrusive. It cast soft shadows, perfect for rest.

They lay side by side on the large bed, a gap of space between them. For a moment, Cassion considered shifting closer to the edge so she wouldn’t feel trapped. But then he stopped himself.

What a lie that would be. After everything, would I not still be the man who once touched her? To pretend otherwise would be nothing more than a facade.

“There’s nothing to be afraid of. This is nothing new…” he thought, though his reasoning was directed more at himself than her.

On the night they had shared intimacy, Cassion had not been rough or cruel. It was a fact he clung to, convincing himself that she had no reason to fear him now. Lavinia, trembling slightly, pressed closer to him, burrowing into his chest.

Cassion hesitated for only a moment before wrapping his arms around her, holding her securely but doing nothing more. He wasn’t so foolish or arrogant as to let his desires get the better of him now.

“You…” he began, his voice a low murmur as he gazed down at her.

“No matter what wrongs you think you’ve done to me, I will never harm you.”

The soft, solemn words caused Lavinia to stiffen in his embrace. It was as if Cassion could see straight into her heart, and that realization made her blood run cold.

“I won’t hurt you, nor will I leave scars on you,” he whispered.

His voice was soothing, but to Lavinia, the words felt almost suffocating. She shuddered and buried her face deeper into his chest, trying to hide her reaction.

No. That’s a lie. It has to be a lie.

She knew all too well from the original story just how cruel Cassion could be. Even Albert—the one he loved—had suffered under his cold brutality. It wasn’t until Cassion realized his own feelings for Albert that he began to show him kindness, but by then, Albert could no longer trust him.

The memory of the massacre at the duke’s estate was still vivid in Lavinia’s mind. Though she had only read about it in the novel, the thought of it terrified her to her core.

“So I’ll endure. All I have to do is escape before Albert comes back to the palace.”

In the original story, Albert had reluctantly followed Cassion and become his concubine, but things were different now. Surely, Albert wouldn’t come to the palace so soon this time. Lavinia feared that Cassion might vent his anger on her if he failed to capture Albert, but none of that would matter once she escaped.

As soon as possible.

“If you can’t trust me, I’ll set a limit,” Cassion said suddenly, his voice calm but laced with an unyielding undertone.

Even if Lavinia betrayed him countless times, Cassion had no intention of killing her. No, he couldn’t kill her. When he had stood before Albert earlier, consumed with a murderous rage, he hadn’t been able to direct that same fury toward Lavinia.

“Three times. I’ll forgive you three times.”

Isn’t that just arrogance? Lavinia thought bitterly. But no matter what she thought of his words, she couldn’t bring herself to respond. Anything she said now would only reinforce his belief that she would betray him.

“So, Lavinia… just stay,” he murmured, his arms tightening ever so slightly around her.

He longed to hold her so tightly that she might never slip away, but he stopped himself. He knew Lavinia wouldn’t want that.

Look at me.

The unspoken plea hung in the air as Cassion swallowed his words, listening instead to Lavinia’s shallow, uneven breathing. His heightened senses told him that she was doing her best to steady herself, though her body was still tense with fear.

The realization stung. He had never cared about being feared before. Yet now, with someone he loved fearing him, the pain of it was sharper than he had ever imagined.

“I’m sorry, Lavinia,” he finally whispered, the words slipping out like a confession.

Lavinia froze completely. The apology stunned her—even Albert had never heard those words from Cassion in the original story.

“Why is he acting like this? Why is he doing this to me?!”

Is this not the Cassion from the novel?

Even if he was somehow different, Lavinia had more than enough reason to avoid him. The danger he posed was undeniable, and thus far, her life had otherwise followed the original story to the letter.

Despite her fraying nerves, Lavinia’s body, utterly exhausted from the day’s events, began to betray her. As she rested her head against Cassion’s chest and closed her eyes, sleep overcame her more quickly than she expected.

“Is that… a good thing?”

Cassion thought as he felt her breathing slow and even out. He had been worried she wouldn’t be able to sleep at all, but she had fallen into slumber remarkably quickly.

Grateful, he looked down at her sleeping face. Though the room was dimly lit by a faint glow, it was enough for him to see every detail clearly. To a normal person, her features might have been obscured in the shadows, but to a transcendental being like him, even her long lashes stood out in perfect clarity.

“I know this is selfish of me…”

Yet, in that moment, as she rested in his arms, he felt a happiness so profound it almost overwhelmed him. He cursed himself for not recognizing it sooner.

For five days, he had deliberately stayed away from her, trying to restrain himself. Though he was a man with strong desires, he hadn’t been able to bring himself to seek anyone else. Only Lavinia occupied his thoughts.

Now, holding her close, those desires stirred once again, but he resolutely suppressed them. Even if it meant staying awake all night, he would not touch her.

Cassion wasn’t so far gone as to impose himself on a woman who looked at him with fear. No matter how much he wanted her, he wouldn’t let himself become that kind of monster.

＊ ＊ ＊

Albert returned to the Wendell Duchy. Hans, who had already spent a significant sum to hire elite mercenaries to track him down, cried tears of gratitude upon seeing him.

Maxim, however, wore an expression of irritation. News that the emperor had gifted Lavinia a palace had already spread throughout the capital. It wasn’t just whispered rumors—imperial staff had even come to the Wendell estate to inquire about Lavinia’s former servants.

Contrary to expectations, Lavinia was now receiving the emperor’s favor. Many speculated that becoming empress was only a matter of time. After all, it hadn’t even been ten days since she entered the palace, and she had already been given a residence. Considering the significance of such a gift, Lavinia’s future position seemed inevitable.

In this climate, Albert’s return was nothing short of a burden for Maxim. While Hans valued Albert’s presence, using it to secure his own position, Albert’s absence had been far more convenient for Maxim.

Hans, on the other hand, was genuinely relieved. Though events had not unfolded as he had hoped, with Lavinia now basking in the emperor’s favor, Hans believed there was still an opportunity to turn things around. He just hadn’t been bold enough to act on his plans yet.

“The situation isn’t hopeless yet…”

It was surprising that the emperor had taken such a liking to Lavinia, but Hans still saw a chance. He intended to have Maxim officially adopt Albert once more and declare him the heir to the duchy. After that, Maxim could be… removed.

If Lavinia became empress, it would be a risky move, but Hans doubted the emperor’s favor for her would last long. The emperor, after all, was notoriously capricious. He had once promised to marry someone as empress, only to reduce her to a concubine.

Hans’s strategy was simple: tarnish Lavinia’s reputation. He planned to spread vile rumors or frame her for something scandalous. He was confident that the emperor, unpredictable and prone to boredom, would eventually grow tired of her. To Hans, Lavinia was a dull girl with no notable charm.

“If Albert becomes the duke…”

Hans envisioned elevating the Wendell family to a status rivaling the imperial family. A duchy was one of the highest noble titles, and dukes were treated almost as royalty. For a man like Hans, who had risen from being a commoner, it was a dream worth scheming for.

Albert might excel with a sword but was unremarkable in managing an estate. Yet, Hans cared little; he was consumed by his ambitions, weaving fantasies of power and prestige.

“I was foolish, my lord,” Albert said, kneeling before Maxim and bowing his head in apology.

Maxim looked down at him coldly. To him, Albert was a filthy bastard born of common stock, even if he was Hans’s beloved son.

Despite this disdain, Maxim had once considered pairing Lavinia with Albert. It had been a rebellious act, a way of lashing out at the late duke, who had forced an unwanted marriage upon him.

But now that Lavinia had entered the palace as the emperor’s concubine, Maxim’s feelings were conflicted. She had been meant to inherit the duchy, to be its rightful heir. He hadn’t thought much about her before Albert arrived, but her absence now lingered in his mind.

Perhaps it was because he had occasionally found himself thinking of her while working through the endless duties of the estate.

“Why have you returned? When you walked out on your own, I assumed you had some plan. Did it fail?” Maxim asked, his tone icy.

Hans, startled by the harshness in Maxim’s voice, looked up at him with pleading eyes. Seeing Hans’s distressed expression, Maxim’s gaze softened, though he tried to hide it. Despite everything, Maxim still loved Hans.

“…It’s late. Go to bed,” Maxim said at last.

The words implied that Albert’s room in the duchy remained untouched, ready for him.

Amid the tense silence of the household staff, Albert rose to his feet.

“Thank you, my lord,” he said, bowing.

Even when Albert had been Maxim’s adopted son, he had never been allowed to call him “Father.” Then, as now, Maxim remained simply “my lord.”

As Maxim turned and walked away, Hans hurried after him.

Hans wanted nothing more than to run to Albert, to check if he was injured, to demand to know what had happened and why he had returned. But Maxim’s cold demeanor worried him.

For Hans, placating Maxim’s mood took priority. Albert could wait.

＊ ＊ ＊

“Did I doze off?”

Cassion opened his eyes slowly, his thoughts hazy. Lavinia was still nestled in his arms, her peaceful face bathed in the soft light filtering through the lace-patterned curtains. She was deeply asleep, her expression serene.

Looking down at her, Cassion let out a deep sigh. To think I’ve only now realized how fulfilling it is just to watch her like this. It was a strange, unfamiliar feeling for him, and he didn’t know how to process it.

Gently, he brushed away a strand of hair that had fallen across her pale forehead, his gaze lingering on her face. A fleeting thought crossed his mind: If only time could stop here.

The sentiment felt almost childishly naive, yet he couldn’t deny the surge of tenderness coursing through him. For a long moment, he simply stared at her, mesmerized. Her breathing was steady, peaceful. She seemed to be sleeping soundly, free from nightmares, and that alone filled him with relief.

If she had been tormented by nightmares because of me… he thought bitterly. It would have been unbearable.

The tranquil moment stretched on, the soft light from the curtains gradually growing brighter, illuminating Lavinia’s features even more clearly. Cassion noticed subtle shifts in her breathing, the small signs that she was beginning to wake.

Not wanting to startle her, he averted his gaze briefly. If she opened her eyes to meet his and felt fear, it would only upset her. Still, he couldn’t help but glance at her out of the corner of his eye.

“Mmm…”

A faint sigh escaped her lips as she stirred, the sound strangely alluring to him. Lavinia blinked slowly, her body shifting as she woke. Then, suddenly, she seemed to realize where she was—and who was beside her. Her movements stilled, and she looked at him with wide eyes.

Cassion decided not to feign sleep.

“You can sleep a little longer,” he said softly, his voice gentle and calming.

Lavinia hesitated, her gaze flickering uncertainly. Their eyes met naturally, and for a brief moment, neither looked away. Watching her like this made Cassion exhale deeply, struggling to suppress the overwhelming urge to hold her tighter.

If only I could make her understand why I want to embrace her so badly, he thought wryly.

“Would you be frightened if I kissed you right now?” Cassion asked suddenly, his voice steady but probing.

Lavinia blinked slowly at his unexpected question. The fear and anxiety that had consumed her the night before had mostly subsided, leaving her in a state of cautious calm.

Cassion’s demeanor was far more gentle and considerate than she had anticipated. Whether his kindness would ultimately be a lifeline or a chain holding her back remained unclear.

But at this moment, she didn’t find the idea of a kiss entirely unpleasant.

“Do you want to kiss me?”

The fact that Cassion still desired her even after seeing Albert struck Lavinia as strange. His earnest gaze, filled with raw vulnerability, made her heart tremble slightly.

“Very much so… But you don’t have to force yourself,” Cassion added hastily, as though trying to pull back the weight of his confession. Yet, even as he spoke, he realized the damage had been done—he had already revealed too much of his heart. Regret tugged at him, but he couldn’t take back the words.

Lavinia, her face tinged with the faintest blush, found herself swayed by his restraint. His actions—the way he had let Albert go, the way he’d promised not to harm her—stirred a small, cautious shift in her feelings toward him.

Perhaps… I could trust him just a little, she thought hesitantly, though fear still lingered.

“Then… kiss me.”