~Chapter 13~

But Lovelace’s cold didn’t go away, even with everyone taking care of her.

On the third day of her sickness, Larvihan called every famous doctor in the Empire.

Bone-setting doctors, pus-draining doctors, even doctors who specialized in cutting umbilical cords neatly—none of them had anything to do with curing a cold. They all lined up at the mansion, but not one of them could make Lovelace’s cold disappear.

Larvihan dismissed them all as “quacks” and sent them away empty-handed.

When Lovelace scolded him with, “That was too much,” Larvihan only replied:

“Be thankful I didn’t kill them.”

Because of her illness, the whole mansion felt frozen and tense.

Finally, after a week, Lovelace’s cold disappeared.

“I didn’t cough all day today.”

Lovelace proudly puffed out her chest. Larvihan nodded, telling her to continue proving it.

“Hhm, hhm.”

She plugged each nostril and blew.

“My nose isn’t blocked.”

She walked around the room in a circle and stopped in front of Larvihan.

“I don’t feel dizzy either. I’m all better.”

“There’s still one thing left to check.”

Larvihan placed his large hand on her forehead. He stayed silent, and Lovelace worried she still had a fever.

Being sick had felt like lying on thorns. Every time she coughed, her maids got scolded for not cleaning properly. When she couldn’t finish her soup, the chef was punished. If she missed her medicine while sleeping, Davidson got angry.

Larvihan had been especially strict.

He always cared too much about his own power.

“Do I… still have a fever?”

Lovelace looked up nervously. She didn’t want to be trapped in bed again—what she thought of as a prison of blankets.

“No fever.”

“Yes!”

She clenched her fists happily. Larvihan gave her a strange look before stepping back—though not by his own choice.

“Your Grace, a letter has arrived.”

It was Maxmuel, entering with Larvihan’s permission.

He handed over a flawless white envelope. The fine, thick paper was something only the Imperial Palace could afford.

“From the palace?”

Lovelace already knew Larvihan often met Emperor Arwen, one of the people who enjoyed tormenting him. That alone was not a good sign.

Curious, she stretched her neck to peek. Larvihan waved the envelope.

“Are you curious?”

“No, not at all.”

She quickly turned her body toward the window, but secretly glanced at him tearing open the letter.

“What madness…”

Larvihan cursed under his breath, then remembered Lovelace was nearby and apologized.

“Let it out. Holding it in will only make you sick.”

If only he would direct that temper at me, I could use it as a reason to escape, Lovelace thought.

During her illness, she had searched for excuses to run away. But she found none. She had plenty of reasons to stay, but none to leave.

Yes, Larvihan was someone destined to destroy the world—but to her, he was sweet and kind.

“It would be betrayal to leave someone who sheltered me without a reason.”

So she hoped he would give her a reason—be cruel, harsh, or demand his power back, as he did with others. But he never did. To her, Larvihan was endlessly gentle, even if sly at times, like a fox living a hundred years.

“Your Grace, what does it say?” Maxmuel couldn’t wait any longer.

“They’re forbidding my marriage.”

Lovelace’s ears perked up. Their eyes met. She barely managed to hold back a smile.

“Ha-ha… Who said that?”

“The Pope. Rae, so… may I go out for a bit?”

“You don’t need my permission. Go ahead, even for a month if you like. But… where?”

Cold sweat ran down her back. She remembered hearing from Anna that Larvihan once smashed through the doors of the Papal Palace.

“To the Papal Palace.”

Larvihan smiled brightly.

“Oh no, that’s not a good idea!”

Lovelace shouted without thinking. If she ever escaped, she would need help from someone. With no money or status of her own, she had already counted on Pope Nicolai as her possible helper.

So she couldn’t let Larvihan destroy the Papal Palace.

“I’ll go!”

She raised her hand.

“You, Rae? Why?”

“You don’t get along with him. If you go, you’ll only fight. I’ll go and ask for marriage permission myself.”

Her eagerness made Larvihan look at her with suspicion.

“I just want to return your power as soon as possible.”

She clasped her hands together earnestly.

“Only if we marry can I give it back quickly.”

“Are you serious?”

Larvihan found her attitude amusing. Usually she frowned whenever marriage was mentioned, but now she was volunteering. Something was definitely hidden beneath it.

He wanted to refuse, but strangely, his mood was good today. So he decided to let her try.

“Fine, go.”

Surprised by his easy approval, Lovelace asked several times just to be sure. Each time, he calmly answered without complaint.

Maxmuel, on the other hand, was utterly confused.

The Papal Palace

The Papal Palace was on the opposite side of the city from the Imperial Palace.

“Welcome, Lady Lovelace.”

Nicolai himself walked out gracefully, pressing his right hand to his chest and bowing. His golden hair sparkled under the sunlight.

“It’s an honor that you came personally.”

“I should thank you for granting me this private audience.”

“We are friends, are we not? You may always call upon me.”

He led her toward the audience chamber. The Papal Palace was vast and grand, without jewels or heavy decorations, but its marble pillars were carved with gods, and rare stained-glass windows colored the white floor with light.

Lovelace slowed down, distracted by the sights. Each time, Nicolai patiently waited with a gentle smile.

If it had been Larvihan, he would have dragged her by the wrist, saying something like:

“Do you like stained glass? Then I’ll replace every window today.”

“Something amusing?” Nicolai asked. She must have laughed without realizing it.

Thinking of Larvihan always made her laugh. Others found him terrifying—she herself had thought so too, based on the novel’s description—but now, he just seemed ridiculous.

His way of courting her was absurd, and his grand dates were flashy but impractical.

Lovelace thought Larvihan was funny.

“Nothing. Actually, I came to speak with you.”

“As did I.”

Tea was brought in. But neither of them spoke at first. They sat in silence until the tea went cold and was replaced—four times—before the conversation finally began.

“You’re here because I forbid the marriage, aren’t you?” Nicolai poured her tea.

“Yes. I stopped Larvihan from coming himself.”

“That is fortunate. I much prefer meeting you than him.”

Nicolai’s lips curved pleasantly.

“But tell me, are we truly friends?”

“I will always be your friend.”

“In any situation?”

“As long as you wish to be free from Larvihan.”

That doesn’t sound like real friendship, Lovelace thought, but kept it to herself.

“Why do you hate him so much?”

“Hate? No. I fear him.”

Nicolai acknowledged Larvihan’s power without hesitation.

“He unlocked a class of magic no one ever has—before even reaching adulthood. And he can use all four elemental attributes.”

“Being strong doesn’t automatically make someone dangerous.”

Nicolai lifted his golden hair, showing a faint glowing mark behind his left ear.

“It whispers constantly. That he is dangerous.”

His smile faded into seriousness.

“What about you, Holiness? Do you also think he is dangerous?”

“Is my opinion important for your decision?”

Lovelace fell silent. She already knew Larvihan was dangerous. He was destined to be a slaughterer of the continent. Nicolai’s opinion didn’t really matter—she just wondered if she was missing something.

“Why did I have to fall asleep reading that book! No—why blame myself? The one who dragged me into this world is at fault!”

She cursed inwardly at the unknown being who possessed her into this story.

“If only he had quietly surrendered his power, I would have defended him with all mine,” Nicolai said.

What does that mean? Lovelace lowered her hands to her lap.

“But he is greedy. He never gave even a little of his power to ease others’ fears. Instead, he deepened their terror. I know how he treats you, Lady Lovelace. But is that really his true self?”

Nicolai clearly had been receiving reports about her.

Dates, caring for her, his restraint—none of it matched Larvihan’s ruthless reputation. Unless, of course, it was all because of what she carried inside her.

Lovelace looked straight at Nicolai.

“And you? Would you still want to be my friend if I had no power from Larvihan?”

Nicolai’s face lit up with a pure smile.

“Of course. Even without power, I would gladly be your friend.”

His bright smile, his confident tone, and the warmth in his eyes—all of it suggested sincerity. But Lovelace couldn’t bring herself to trust it. Maybe it was because of her hard life, or maybe because her heart had already tilted toward Larvihan.

Be careful.

Lovelace reminded herself.

Don’t trust the wrong person. Or maybe—don’t trust anyone.

She smiled brightly.

“Don’t forget those words.”