ITTRAETML 44

~Chapter 44~

“The breeze is nice.”

Madam Johan led Lovelace to a cozy spot in the yard. They sat at a small table set to one side of the garden. Judith opened a parasol to give shade.

“Judith, that’s enough. Sit with us.”

“No, Countess. I’m comfortable like this.”

Lovelace knew it wasn’t true, but she couldn’t waste time arguing. She turned back to Madam Johan. The woman’s earlier bright expression was gone—her face was tense.

“The law won’t be amended.”

Lovelace blinked at the unexpected words.

“Why do you think so?”

“Because it brings no benefit to nobles.”

“You think there’s something wrong with the law itself?”

Madam Johan gave a slight nod. Lovelace studied her for a moment, and then a suspicion came to mind.

Could it be that she wrote On the Responsibility of Nobles?

“Did you write On the Responsibility of Nobles yourself?”

Madam Johan’s eyes widened. A sheepish smile spread across her face.

“You figured it out—so there’s no point hiding it. Yes, I wrote it.”

“Then why did you hide it?”

Bitterness clouded her features.

“Rather than sitting and talking, why don’t we walk? A stroll, Countess?”

They walked side by side, Judith folding the parasol and following a few steps behind. What Lovelace thought would be a short talk stretched into something much longer.

“Larvihan. I need you to take care of something.”

Arwen tossed her black veil onto the sofa. Larvihan lowered the book covering his face and looked at Maxmuel, who had followed her in.

“Maxmuel, it seems you’ve forgotten your place.”

“I’m sorry. Her Majesty forced her way in.”

Maxmuel couldn’t lay hands on the Emperor, so there was no stopping her. But Larvihan’s irritation boiled over.

“Is the emperor of this empire so idle? Want me to make you free to play forever?”

He pulled a cigarette from the drawer, lit it with a spark in his hand, and inhaled deeply.

“You’re still crooked.”

Arwen dropped all pretense of manners and sat down on the sofa, her boots thudding against the floor. She crooked a finger at Maxmuel.

Maxmuel looked to Larvihan. His loyalty was not to the Emperor but to his master.

“Leave us.”

Hearing Larvihan’s annoyed voice, Maxmuel obeyed.

“What are you thinking?”

Arwen reached for the cigarette in his hand, but Larvihan pushed her off. He tossed her a new one instead. She caught it midair, her eyes narrowing.

“Suddenly acting clean, are you?”

“I don’t share things with you.”

“Not sure if you mean objects—or people.”

“Either.”

Arwen smirked. But Larvihan’s thoughts wandered elsewhere.

Lovelace. What was she doing now? Meeting nobles? Trying to persuade them? She could just ask him—he could fix it with a word. Why was she taking the hardest road?

“I can’t tell if she’s foolish or too good.”

“That wasn’t aimed at me, was it? You mean Countess Lovelace?”

“When people talk to themselves, it’s polite to act like you didn’t hear.”

“So, her plans aren’t going well, hm?”

Arwen grinned and put the cigarette between her lips. She asked for a light, and Larvihan threw a ball of flame at her. Muttering a spell, she snuffed it out with a hiss.

“Don’t provoke me.”

Suddenly, Larvihan was right in front of her. He gripped her hair and twisted her neck back. Just a bit more force, and her slender neck would snap.

“Arwen. I know you’re blocking nobles from siding with Lovelace. Today is the last day I’ll let it pass.”

“You’ve grown patient. Strange… your nature doesn’t change.”

Even with her head bent back, she smiled calmly. She was sure he wouldn’t kill her—he’d lost part of his elemental powers. He was still strong, but not strong enough to fight the whole empire.

Still, he was efficient in battle. He always went for a clean kill, never wasting motion. That was the terrifying part.

“Snapping your neck is no trouble.”

“But you won’t.”

“I could tear your mouth apart. You’d never dare spread the shame that I did it.”

He drew a dagger, aiming at the corner of her lips.

“Apologize.”

Arwen answered without hesitation.

“I’m sorry.”

Larvihan was different today—like a beast ready to bite. Even Arwen’s skin prickled with fear.

She forced a harmless smile to show she didn’t want to fight.

“Boring.”

He released her hair, slammed the dagger into the wall, and poured himself wine. After a long drink, he turned back.

“So, what do you want?”

“I won’t interfere with Countess Lovelace—on one condition.”

“You want me as your cleaner, hm?”

Her smile widened.

“Fine. Wherever it is, I’ll clear it out.”

Larvihan was hungry for bloodshed, itching for a battlefield. If Arwen provided it, he wouldn’t refuse.

‘And it will help Lovelace, too.’

She left, veil back on, and met Maxmuel in the hall.

“You’ve worked hard, Maxmuel.”

She patted his shoulder and walked off, smiling.

‘So, she’s become his weakness.’

She felt like she had gained a weapon strong enough to move Larvihan himself.

Late at night, the lamp in Lovelace’s room still burned. Judith had tucked her in long ago, but she paced by the window instead of lying in bed.

Tonight was the day Larvihan was supposed to check Paulo’s assignments. But he hadn’t come. Paulo’s disappointment had been clear, so she soothed him with cocoa piled with marshmallows until he fell asleep.

‘Even if I said I’d do things on my own… he should still tutor Paulo!’

It was a flimsy excuse, but she needed something to hide how much she had been waiting for him.

She closed the window against the night breeze. The curtains fluttered.

“Waiting for someone?”

A low, deep voice startled her. She turned, and Larvihan was there, watching her closely.

Even after days apart, his sharp, handsome looks hadn’t changed—and neither had the mischievous charm hidden in his stern face.

“No one.”

“I thought… maybe you were waiting for me.”

He stepped away and glanced at her table stacked high with papers.

The effort showed in her face, even in the ink-smudged scent of her skin. She had worked like this before, too—when she searched desperately for a way to return his elemental orb.

The Harmelda family must value diligence. Paulo worked with the same intensity. The image of them studying side by side made Larvihan chuckle.

Lovelace’s chest warmed at the sound.

“Still determined to do everything yourself?”

He flipped through the documents and stopped at the name Sirius Johan.

“You found something worthwhile.”

It sounded mocking, but from him, it was praise.

“Someone gave me a hint.”

“They say he’s impressive.”

“True.”

Lovelace lifted the paper written by Madam Johan.

“I want to talk about this. Do you have time today?”

She was eager to speak. Larvihan, looking at her shining eyes, nodded slowly. He had stopped by on his way to fulfill Arwen’s request—a grim, bloody task. But he couldn’t say no now.

“Mind if I borrow your bed?”

He hadn’t slept well for days. Seeing her, drowsiness weighed on him. He would listen, of course—but lying down would be better.

“M-my bed?”

“I won’t touch you.”

Lovelace believed him.

‘The one I can’t trust… is me.’

The moment he entered, his presence filled the room with a dangerous, masculine energy. Scenes played in her mind—limited to a kiss, given her inexperience.

“No… you can’t.”

Useless words. He was already lying on her bed, waiting.

“Come closer. I can’t hear you well.”

A lie. He had sharp ears—he woke at the faintest sound at dawn.

“You act so embarrassed, it looks like you’re expecting something.”

He gave her a lazy, sly smile, propped on one arm. Like a fox turned into a man.

“I am not!”

She shouted and sat on the edge of the bed. Larvihan’s arm slipped around her waist, pulling her close.

“…!”