Your Majesty, I’m Not that Man - Chapter 9: Plea (2)

Cassion decided to count this escape attempt as one of the three chances he had promised Levinia. However, that didn’t mean his feelings of resentment were entirely resolved.

Though Levinia had given him a sliver of hope, it was far from acceptance of his love. The joy he had felt earlier was fleeting, and now he was left with a lingering sense of dissatisfaction.

“Still… when I look at her face, my frustrations just melt away.”

Levinia, seemingly exhausted from their emotional conversation, had fallen asleep once again. Despite the healing power of holy magic that had closed her wounds, her recovery still depended on her body’s strength. The poison had taken a toll on her, draining her energy. Rest was necessary.

“It’s frustrating that this is only the beginning, but… this is already so much better than when she wouldn’t reveal anything to me.”

The barriers between them had weakened, even if only slightly, and Cassion resolved to be satisfied with that for now. As he watched her sleep, his heart ached at how frail she looked. In just a few days, her face had grown pale and thin, and it weighed heavily on him.

“Even if she admits to running away, someone still dared to lay their hands on her.”

It was clear that Levinia’s injuries hadn’t come solely from her escape. Whoever had attacked her had meant to kill her, not take her as a hostage. The investigation he’d initially planned—to uncover who might have been targeting him by using Levinia—needed a new direction.

The list of people who could benefit from Levinia’s death was limited, which made identifying suspects much easier.

“The most likely suspect is… Yanis.”

Cassion’s expression darkened. He had been aware of Yanis’s troublesome behavior toward the other concubines, but since she had never shown her claws in front of him, he had ignored it. However, if she had dared to target Levinia, the situation had changed entirely.

“The one managing the harem will need to answer for this, too.”

His gaze softened as he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Levinia’s forehead.

Before disbanding the harem entirely, Cassion resolved to crush anyone who posed a threat to Levinia. If there were disloyal or dangerous individuals within his palace, they would be dealt with thoroughly.

＊ ＊ ＊

News arrived at the Wendell estate a few hours after Levinia had regained consciousness. The message was simple: Lady Levinia had awoken safely, and there was no longer any need for concern.

The household staff rejoiced at the news, but Maxim, the Duke, showed little reaction.

To him, Levinia was the daughter he had resolved to abandon. He didn’t regret his decision—she had her own plans, after all. But hearing that she had survived left him feeling uneasy.

“Was I too harsh in my decision? She is my child, after all.”

Maxim couldn’t shake the thought that if Levinia realized the truth of his betrayal, it would not end well for him. Levinia wasn’t the type to quietly endure being wronged. She had proven in the past that, when angered, she could be quite troublesome.

“No,” he reassured himself. “Even if she gets angry, what can she do? I’m the Duke of Wendell, her father. Surely she wouldn’t dare incite His Majesty against me.”

Yet, a nagging anxiety bubbled within him. Levinia was intelligent and sharp—there was no way she wouldn’t realize he had left her for dead.

“What if she seeks revenge? The Emperor thinks she was kidnapped and barely escaped… He’d listen to her, no matter what she said.”

Maxim also knew that if he tried to preemptively tell the Emperor that Levinia had planned to run away, it could backfire disastrously. Any punishment Levinia received would likely extend to the entire Wendell family.

He decided he needed to act first. Maxim resolved to confront Levinia and take control of the situation. He would reprimand her, assert his authority as her father, and ensure she didn’t act against him. After all, Levinia had abandoned the family—he had every right to chastise her.

“Yes, that’s it,” he thought, his determination hardening. “Before she has a chance to turn the Emperor against me, I need to put her in her place.”

With this plan in mind, Maxim hurriedly began preparing to go to the imperial palace. However, as he headed upstairs, he ran into Zelenka descending the staircase.

The two despised each other, to the point where they actively avoided crossing paths. Whenever Maxim was at the estate, Zelenka would leave, and she would return only after hearing he was away. Ironically, this meant they had an unspoken awareness of each other’s schedules.

Maxim scowled at the unexpected encounter. It was supposed to be Zelenka’s time to be at her lover’s house. They rarely spoke more than two words to each other, and this time was no different—Maxim averted his gaze, unwilling to engage.

“Foolish woman.”

Maxim detested Zelenka, but not nearly as much as she hated him. He had already driven away three of her lovers—either by killing them outright or bribing them to leave the country. Yet, no matter how many times he thought she’d give up, Zelenka always found someone new.

“At least she’s materialistic,” he thought bitterly.

Zelenka clung to her position as the Duchess of Wendell because of the extravagant lifestyle it afforded her. Born into a poor viscount’s family, she had become addicted to the wealth and luxury her marriage to Maxim provided. Even if it meant enduring a loveless, toxic relationship, she couldn’t give up the money.

If Zelenka had been anything like Levinia, she would have saved the money she was given and demanded a divorce. But instead, she maintained the marriage while playing the victim, which Maxim found revolting.

“…Is Levinia safe?” Zelenka asked suddenly, her tone calm but her gaze cold.

Maxim glanced at her sharply. She must have overheard the servants talking outside. She wouldn’t ask such a question without an ulterior motive.

“They say she was lucky,” Maxim replied curtly. “She survived.”

“Thank the heavens,” Zelenka said flatly. Her voice lacked any genuine relief, and her expression remained icy.

Maxim looked at her with thinly veiled disdain. She reminded him of a reptile—cold, calculating, and entirely self-serving.

“Yes… indeed,” he muttered, turning away to end the conversation.

But Zelenka stopped him with her next words.

“If you’re going to see her, take me with you,” she said. “Our only daughter just escaped a terrible fate. It would be improper for her parents to visit the palace separately, don’t you think?”

Maxim froze, irritation flashing across his face. Zelenka’s point wasn’t entirely wrong. The discord between Wendell Duke and Duchess was well-known. Though Maxim tried to hide it, he frequently attended parties with Hans, while Zelenka openly appeared at balls with her lovers.

“Is that necessary?” Maxim asked sharply.

“Yes, it is,” Zelenka said, her tone cutting. “You haven’t forgotten how particular His Majesty is, have you? If we visit separately and rumors spread about Levinia because of it… well, you’ll be the one reprimanded. Not me.”

Maxim’s discomfort was evident. Zelenka’s mention of the Emperor hit a nerve. If it involved Levinia, the Emperor wouldn’t hesitate to act harshly.

“Fine,” Maxim said, sighing heavily. “Then you’d best get ready quickly. I was planning to leave immediately.”

“Oh? Since when did you care so much about being a father?” Zelenka remarked mockingly before turning to head to her room.

Maxim clenched his fists, trembling with anger, but he said nothing. Turning sharply, he called for Hans, his servant.

As he waited, Maxim couldn’t shake the feeling that Hans had been absent far too often lately.

＊ ＊ ＊

Levinia sat up in bed, realizing immediately that the room she was in was not her previous chamber. The view from the window, the furnishings, even the servants—all unfamiliar.

“…Where am I?” she murmured aloud.

Though she knew she had returned to the imperial palace, this place didn’t feel like the Hyacinth Palace she had stayed in before. When she asked one of the maids attending her, the woman responded with a respectful bow.

“You are in the Sun Room of the Rose Palace, my lady.”

“What?” Levinia’s eyes widened in surprise.

This all but confirmed her suspicions: I really am taking Albert’s role.

She glanced around at the room’s resplendent details, from the sunburst carvings adorning the ceiling to the elaborate carpets underfoot. The Sun Room of the Rose Palace… in the original story, this was where Cassion had imprisoned Albert. Rose Palace was the most heavily guarded wing of the imperial palace, reserved for matters of utmost importance—or danger.

“The culprits who attempted to harm you have not yet been apprehended, my lady,” the maid explained. “For your safety, His Majesty ordered your quarters to be moved here.”

“Ah…” Levinia swallowed nervously, unsure if she felt reassured or trapped. Was this truly for her safety, or was it just an excuse for Cassion to keep her under tighter control after her escape attempt?

Safety is important, sure… but still.

The maid interrupted her thoughts. “Does the food suit your taste, my lady?”

“Yes, it’s delicious,” Levinia replied honestly.

It had been days since she’d last been able to eat properly, and the meal before her was heavenly. Even though the dishes were simple—velvety soup and soft, easily digestible foods for a recovering patient—everything tasted incredible.

The maids attending her seemed particularly focused on making sure she ate well. They spoke softly, offering gentle encouragement as they explained each dish.

It struck her as odd. The previous servants had been polite but insincere, their actions clearly motivated by the hope of currying favor or gaining something from her proximity to Cassion.

“Did Cassion realize my discomfort and replace them all?”

During her earlier time in the palace, Levinia had avoided forming attachments to the staff. She had kept her distance from even the kind ones, fearing that Cassion’s wrath might spill over onto them after her escape. To an outsider, it might have seemed like she surrounded herself with sycophants.

But things were different now. Cassion had made his promises, and Levinia had tentatively decided to stay by his side. There was no longer a need to isolate herself.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

The maids beamed as they cleared the dishes away. With her meal finished, Levinia wondered what she should do next.

No walks until I’m better, she recalled Cassion’s strict instructions.

“Perhaps I’ll read,” she mused aloud.

Before she could dwell too much on her options, the maids chimed in again, eager to ensure she was entertained.

“My lady, would you care for a nap?” one suggested.

“His Majesty has sent over some newly published novels, knowing you enjoy reading,” another added.

“Did you know, my lady? At the salon of the Marchioness of Delain, a musician debuted a new composition—it’s been the talk of the aristocracy,” a third offered.

They hovered attentively, suggesting activities to keep her occupied—a typical display when attending to a noblewoman recovering from illness.

Levinia listened absently to their chatter, her thoughts drifting. Despite herself, she found her mind wandering to Cassion.

I wonder what he’s doing right now.

＊ ＊ ＊