~Chapter 17~

“How is it? Do you want it?”

Larvihan sat Lovelace down on the sofa. Every time he moved, his firm muscles rippled like waves.

Lovelace never thought she would find muscles beautiful, but looking at Larvihan, she finally understood why there were so many nude statues in the world.

It wasn’t that sculptors were all perverts. A beautiful body was simply the highest form of beauty humans could express.

“I’ll just show you everything.”

Larvihan placed her down on the chair, his hand moving to the buckle of his belt, a sly smile on his face.

Lovelace instantly realized what he was about to do.

Oh no.

She quickly covered her eyes with both hands and shouted:

“No! Stop! Things like that are better when you show them halfway—just enough to imagine!”

“That can’t be right. Think again.”

His playful voice only fueled Lovelace’s stubbornness.

Should she just tell him to shamelessly do it? After all, wasn’t it the same as looking at art? When would she ever get a chance like this again? People should be honest about their desires, right? And he was willingly offering to show her.

Slowly, Lovelace lowered her hands.

Alright, now she would say it!

Just as she was about to open her mouth, justifying her choice to herself, there came a knock at the door.

Knock, knock.

‘What was I about to do just now?!’

Realizing her own thoughts too late, Lovelace buried her face into the table in shame. Thanks to the intruder, the interesting moment was ruined.

Larvihan’s brow creased, his eyes turning sharp.

“Your Grace, I’m sorry, but it’s urgent.”

It was Maxmuel. Larvihan wrapped a large towel around Lovelace’s body and opened the door.

“What is it?”

“The Emperor has come to see you.”

Larvihan’s eyes narrowed. The air around him froze cold.

“Change the mattress and sheets. Call Anna. Keep Rey warm. And Rey—”

Relieved that she had somehow kept her conscience intact, Lovelace poked her head up like a curious crane at the sudden call.

“Do not come out. No matter what.”

Arwen Royal Grace.

She was the Empire’s first female Emperor, and a brilliant magician. With her tall height, striking features, sharp wit, and unmatched magical talent, people said from an early age she was destined to be an Emperor.

But taking the throne was harder than expected.

For her, Larvihan was both the cause of her hardship and the key to overcoming it.

The Emperor ordered: if Larvihan could not be made an ally, then he must be destroyed. Whoever killed him would be given the throne.

Arwen wanted that throne. There was no other place that suited her.

From then, their friendship broke. Arwen tormented Larvihan mercilessly—not to ruin him, but because she believed if he lost everything, he would come to her.

But Larvihan neither came to her nor died. So Arwen compromised. To secure the throne, she asked him one last favor in exchange for freedom. Then she betrayed him. She decided to eliminate him—and believed she succeeded.

Until he appeared alive before her eyes.

“Why are you here?”

“No need to be so cold. We used to be like brother and sister when young.”

“There’s no such thing between a man and a woman. Besides, we weren’t like siblings. We’re enemies, aren’t we?”

“You’re the only one who dares say that to the Emperor. That’s why I like you.”

“Crazy.”

Larvihan cursed without hesitation. He knew Arwen well. She was greedy. She never let go of what she had, nor what she wanted.

That’s why she wouldn’t attack him unless he pushed her too far. Until he regained his full power, Larvihan planned to keep that line.

For all her slyness and poor character, Arwen was still a great magician and a powerful Emperor. Facing her and her followers without his full strength would be troublesome.

“You have something valuable here, don’t you?”

“Would it compare to the Imperial Palace?”

“Maybe not, but this treasure is said to be something even the Palace doesn’t have. That means you must’ve hidden it well.”

“Of course treasures are hidden, so common thieves can’t steal them. More importantly—”

Larvihan leaned his chin on his hand, staring straight into Arwen’s violet eyes.

“Did you touch the Harmelda family?”

Arwen tilted her head but did not avoid his sharp gaze. She was not an easy opponent.

Yet even she had a gap. For a brief moment, her eyes wavered.

“You did touch them.”

His voice carried both resignation and bitterness.

“No.” Arwen answered smoothly. Larvihan did not press. Without proof, there was no point.

Even with proof, who would question why the Emperor erased a single noble house?

But if Lovelace was truly Count Harmelda’s daughter, and he married her, then it would change everything.

Larvihan slowly lifted the corner of his mouth.

“What if my treasure is Count Harmelda’s daughter—would you believe me?”

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed in the hallway.

Larvihan and Arwen looked at each other. Larvihan frowned.

“Do you raise big rats here?”

Arwen sneered, but Larvihan ignored her and opened the door. There, sitting on the hallway floor, was Lovelace.

“So the treasure really is true.”

Through the wide-open door, Lovelace saw them. Looking at the woman with violet eyes, she knew this was Arwen. Just as novels described: deep large eyes, a sharp nose, full lips, violet eyes—a mysterious beauty.

Larvihan lifted Lovelace easily, carefully fixing her clothes. Arwen watched with a bright smile.

“I told you never to come out, Lovelace.”

Hearing her full name felt strange. Lovelace bit her lip, glanced at Arwen, then whispered quickly in a small voice:

“Is it true that I’m Count Harmelda’s daughter?”

Larvihan stepped in front of her, clearly guarding against Arwen’s interest.

“I’ll explain later.”

“You should’ve told me sooner if you knew!”

“Lovelace.” His low voice pleaded for her to wait. But she only felt hurt. Her eyes filled with dissatisfaction.

“Go back.”

“No. I want to hear it properly now.”

Their gazes clashed stubbornly. Both were equally headstrong. In the end, Arwen broke the tension.

“I should leave. I’ve seen your treasure for myself.”

She pushed Larvihan’s shoulder with the tip of her staff. He resisted.

So Lovelace moved, rising on tiptoes to look at Arwen over Larvihan’s shoulder.

“Truly a treasure.”

Arwen smiled with satisfaction, sensing the restless power inside Lovelace.

The treasure war would begin. Excitement tingled through her veins.

“Tell me everything.”

Later, drained from meeting Arwen, Larvihan didn’t go to Lovelace’s room but to his office instead. As he lit a cigar to rest, Lovelace came in. He turned from the window to look at her.

“What is it?”

Though he already knew why she came, he pretended not to.

“Am I really Count Harmelda’s daughter?”

Instead of answering, Larvihan showed her a picture. Lovelace’s eyes widened in shock as she saw it.

“That’s me… isn’t it?”

“You don’t remember?”

She shook her head. It was true. But she couldn’t deny the face in the picture looked just like hers.

“Yes, you said you lost your memories.”

“Why didn’t you tell me right away?”

“I wanted to be sure. And… Count Harmelda is dead.”

Larvihan watched her reaction. At the mention of death, she clenched her fists—but did not question further.

So she really remembered nothing.

Arwen had made things complicated. He hadn’t wanted her to learn from anyone but him. He had planned to explain only after confirming exactly what happened to Count Harmelda.

“Do you remember anything at all? Even something from your earliest childhood? For example, meeting me?”

“Have we met before?”

Her question proved she remembered nothing.

Impossible. A face like hers, even as a child, could not be forgotten.

“It’s not fully certain. I believe it, but acceptance from others is another matter. Until I had full proof, I chose not to tell you.”

“You don’t need to go through so much trouble for me.”

The words slipped from her heart.

“What do you mean? You’d rather be an unknown beggar than Count Harmelda’s daughter?”

“That’s not what I mean…”

If she gained title and land, running away later would be impossible. Someday she wanted to escape, live quietly, like a picture fading in the background.

“But you have a younger brother.”

“What? A brother?”