Chapter 8
To the vassals, Aslan’s decision to take Vivian as his wife came far too suddenly.
He had chased after the lady who had caused a commotion by threatening suicide, following her into the forest. And then, he disappeared for three whole days.
While vassals and knights alike paced anxiously with worry, Aslan finally reappeared—with an unconscious Vivian Eleonora in his arms.
Aslan insisted she could not stay at a mere hotel and immediately ordered the purchase of a mansion.
There was no room for objection. To the vassals, Aslan’s commands were as absolute as those of a god.
They did everything in their power to meet their lord’s expectations.
The already luxurious mansion was renovated to become even more extravagant. Veteran attendants from the capital were scheduled to arrive soon, all for Vivian.
Aslan nodded in satisfaction as he listened to the vassal’s report.
“You did well.”
“When do you plan to depart for the North, then?”
“That’ll be difficult for the time being. I plan to stay in the South until Vivian’s condition improves.”
“…Excuse me?”
The man walking alongside Aslan stopped as if he had heard something unbelievable.
“Is there a problem?”
“No, sir. It’s just… unexpected. I thought you would act separately from Madam…”
“So that’s how it looks to you too.”
Aslan slowly ran a hand through his hair, a bitter smirk forming on his firm lips.
He knew why Vivian refused to go through with the marriage.
For the past three years of their engagement, he had completely ignored her existence. From the very beginning, their relationship had been a matter of political convenience—and back then, he had no right to object.
Rather than protecting her as his betrothed, he had publicly humiliated her and sneered at her as a woman without blood or tears.
All the while, he didn’t even realize she was dying.
Looking back, neglecting Vivian had been his last act of desperation.
Every time they crossed paths, he had hurt her to punish himself for secretly following her with his eyes, pretending it wasn’t happening.
‘Of course she can’t trust me. I can’t tell her anything. Not a single thing.’
A secret he couldn’t confess to anyone. A fragile and lovely fiancée, trapped in the perilous fortress built on lies and hypocrisy.
There was no way he could now say it casually—
That despite scorning her so thoroughly, he had come to harbor feelings for her. That this monstrous beast had committed an unforgivable sin.
“But that doesn’t mean I’m letting her go.”
“…Excuse me?!”
“Nothing. Just talking to myself. More importantly, there’s something you need to do.”
Aslan stopped walking. His eyes gleamed with a chill that could raise goosebumps.
“Investigate the Eleonora family from the beginning. This time, dig into every aspect—even their private lives.”
“At once, my lord.”
The current Duke of Eleonora was a collateral relative, taken in as a son-in-law. He was an eighth cousin to the duchess, the direct heir.
The previous duke had a daughter to inherit the family name, but due to her frail health, she wasn’t considered fit for the role—despite her many talents.
So the previous duke brought in a son-in-law.
That decision led the family toward ruin. The current duke was incompetent and greedy.
As a result, the inheritance from the previous duke skipped the current duke and went straight to Vivian and her brother.
‘A man like that wouldn’t just sit back and let it happen.’
Aslan’s instincts told him something wasn’t right.
Why had Vivian’s extraordinary swordsmanship been so thoroughly concealed? Why hadn’t the family done anything while her honor was being dragged through the mud in noble society?
How had no one noticed she was terminally ill?
‘If my suspicions are right, then…’
＊ ＊ ＊
It was a late night, the sky full of stars. While everyone else slept, Vivian couldn’t manage to fall asleep.
She had dismissed the maids and now sat by the window, trying to sort through her current situation.
‘My biggest problem right now… is this tuberculosis.’
She was terminally ill, given only a short time to live. Her symptoms were severe—bad enough that she would pass out when they worsened.
Her doctor had said she had a year at most, but that didn’t guarantee she’d last that long. If she pushed herself, she could die even sooner.
And yet, she was still alive.
‘How is that possible?’
She’d been naked in the cold rain in the forest, stabbed by an assassin.
She was sure she would die—but she had survived, against all odds.
No matter how she thought about it, she couldn’t figure out why. The only explanation that came to mind was the absurd idea that it was a miracle of the possessor.
Well, she had possessed someone else’s body—after something like that, what couldn’t happen?
‘I mean, it’s great to be alive. Really great. I’d love to live a long, long time, if possible.’
In fact, in the original novel The Curse of Astaroth, a cure for tuberculosis was developed in the middle of the story.
That was the very first thing she had remembered after possession. But the cure had one major issue.
‘The one who developed the drug is none other than Aslan’s ally. He would never give it to me.’
In the original story, the cure was only mentioned to show that “the male lead gained an ally capable of curing incurable diseases.”
So she had pretty much given up on getting the medicine. She knew that Aslan hated her—treated her like a bug.
‘But things are different now. Maybe his proposal isn’t such a bad thing after all.’
If she stayed close to Aslan for the next year until the cure was developed, maybe she’d have a chance to secretly meet his ally and get access to the medicine.
It was a possible way out of this horrible disease.
‘She must’ve been in terrible pain… What the hell was the original Vivian doing, letting her body get this bad?’
As someone who had possessed the body, she had no right to complain. But after suffering from tuberculosis symptoms for over a month, she couldn’t help it.
Vivian ruffled her hair and shook her head.
“There are so many stars. They’re beautiful.”
“I didn’t know you liked the night sky.”
Suddenly, a voice came from the direction of the garden. Just beneath the window where she sat, Aslan was standing.
His black hair was damp with sweat—he must have been training.
He was shirtless, and his broad shoulders, solid chest, and veiny, muscular arms gave off a threatening aura.
And those gleaming golden eyes—like a beast hiding in the darkness.
“If I’d known, I would’ve come with you.”
“No, I was just thinking.”
“I really can’t take my eyes off you, even for a second. The night air is cool—”
“I’m fine. Ah—cough!”
Aslan’s expression twisted the moment he saw her cough.
He threw aside the sword he was holding and leapt straight up onto the second-story balcony in one bound.
Vivian stumbled back in shock, but Aslan was faster—he grabbed her shoulders.
“See? You’re not fine.”
“It was just for a moment… I couldn’t sleep.”
“Where’s the maid who’s supposed to be attending you?”
As he looked around, his gaze sharpened. The atmosphere suggested someone was about to get punished.
Vivian quickly shook her head.
“Don’t do that. The maid just followed my orders.”
“What orders?”
“I don’t like having people around when I’m resting. So I sent her away.”
“If that’s how you feel, then…”
Furrowing his brow as if to test her sincerity, Aslan suddenly lifted her into his arms.
Vivian flailed, asking to be put down, but Aslan walked over, pulled back the blanket, and gently laid her on the bed.
“What else?”
“…What?”
“Tell me everything, Vivian. I don’t know enough about you.”
“You, Your Highness?”
That couldn’t be true. In the novel, Aslan had planted a spy in the Eleonora family and investigated every move they made.
By the time the Eleonora Duke realized, the entire family was already in Aslan’s grasp.
He even discovered the existence of an illegitimate child before Vivian did.
But what came out of Aslan’s mouth now was a little different.
“Even today—I really thought you’d be happy to marry me.”
Well, the original Vivian surely would’ve been. She clung to him desperately, using any means necessary to secure the marriage. Her villainess reputation was born from that effort.
‘But things are different now. His proposal is a double-edged sword for me.’
The fact that Aslan was cursed to transform into a black lion was a state secret—an extreme one.
Even the Crown Prince, his rival, had once sent assassins when the curse was nearly exposed. The Curse of Astaroth was a highly sensitive issue for the imperial family.
‘And I’m the presumed witness to it.’
Before she lost consciousness, he had been in his black lion form. When he woke, he had returned to his human form—likely sometime during the descent from the mountain.
If she were an ordinary person, she would’ve been killed on the spot for merely seeing it.
But the maid earlier had told her—
‘Aslan is facing political backlash because of my suicide note.’
Of all things, Vivian had inherited a massive fortune from her mother and maternal relatives. Among imperial women, excluding direct royals, she was among the wealthiest.
And that person left a suicide note naming Aslan—of course his enemies would use it to cast suspicion on him.
“I thought about a lot after you turned me down. Everything I’ve ever wanted, I’ve taken by force. I thought maybe I should do that this time too.”
Aslan muttered darkly, his gaze blazing.
Vivian shivered as though she were prey caught in front of a predator.
“Actually, my plan is still the same. I want to make you my wife as soon as possible. A real wife—someone I don’t have to feel guilty about spending the night with.”
“Sp-spending the night—why would that need guilt—”
Their eyes met, and Aslan’s gaze curved into a dangerously seductive smile.
