Chapter 6
Part 2: Even Just Breathing Accumulates Karma
‘Where am I…?’
When Vivian regained consciousness, she found herself lying in a bedroom she had never seen before.
It was a dazzlingly luxurious room. The one she used at the duke’s residence had been plenty large and elegant, but this was far beyond comparison—absolutely opulent.
‘Is this the afterlife this time? Did I get rewarded for being good in life?!’
She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t stunned.
But seeing all the extravagant furniture and decorations practically screaming “I’m expensive,” she became far too excited to stay still. This is all mine?!
Just as Vivian was hurrying to step out of bed, the bedroom door burst open, startling her so much she choked.
“Ugh, cough cough!”
“Madam, are you alright? You’ve barely regained consciousness after a week—please don’t overdo it…!”
“Cough, cough!”
Her head spun. She didn’t even know who this maid kept calling “Madam.” All she wanted was some water—she’d only choked, and now she was weeping inside.
The commotion in the bedroom soon drew Aslan in. Seeing the flustered servants, he shouted at them to fetch the doctor immediately.
The room grew even more chaotic until the doctor finally arrived, panting, and the atmosphere calmed somewhat.
“Tuberculosis has already progressed significantly. Madam’s body is very weak.”
“You can cure her, right?”
“I’m sorry. Even with the best care, I doubt she has more than a year left.”
The doctor, after thoroughly examining Vivian and constantly glancing at Aslan, came to the same conclusion as the Eleonora family’s physician.
“This isn’t a difficult disease to diagnose. Had it been discovered earlier, her condition wouldn’t be this severe. I don’t understand why the Eleonora family failed to notice.”
“…”
“To ease her pain, I’ll prescribe something to alleviate the symptoms. However, there is no fundamental cure, so all I can do is help her spend her remaining days as comfortably as possible…”
The doctor’s calm voice gradually faded.
CRACK—The mahogany table Aslan touched split in two.
He let out a deep sigh, as if he had received a death sentence himself rather than Vivian. Drooping his thick, muscular shoulders, he repeatedly rubbed his face, at a loss for what to do.
As if suppressing a rising fury, he raked his hair back and spoke again.
“So, you’re saying there’s no cure?”
“Y-yes…”
“I must’ve offended you deeply. They say you’re the best physician in the south, yet all you can offer is that pitiful answer?”
Aslan sat down naturally by Vivian’s bedside, as though it were his rightful place.
Due to his heavily built frame, the mattress sank deeply on one side.
All Vivian could see was his broad, muscular, V-shaped back. But she could still clearly sense the sweat pouring from the doctor and servants standing opposite her.
“…”
Even breathing felt like a risk. No one dared to make a sound, and the spacious bedroom was filled with an eerie silence.
A man with Astaroth’s power acting like this—isn’t this a civilian massacre waiting to happen?
Vivian felt like she had unwittingly become the source of chaos. Overwhelmed by the silence, she nervously darted her eyes around—when suddenly:
“Then tell me who can cure her.”
“M-Madam’s illness has no cure…”
“That’s not the answer I want.”
A dark aura began to rise from Aslan’s body. At first, Vivian thought it might be a hallucination, so she rubbed her eyes—but nothing changed.
She didn’t know why, but given that he was cursed by Astaroth, this couldn’t be a good sign.
Worse, there were too many witnesses here.
If he transforms into the black lion now… he’ll have to silence everyone. That includes me. Maybe I’d be the first to go—just to set an example.
Growing anxious, Vivian began fidgeting with her fingers. She couldn’t wait any longer and quickly grabbed his arm.
“Your Grace…”
It was a voice as delicate and fragile as glass. Yet Aslan, who had been glaring at the doctor like he might kill him, instantly turned his attention to Vivian.
The icy glare that had felt like a Siberian blizzard in midwinter softened in an instant—like a spring breeze.
The doctor and servants, witnessing this rapid change, were collectively stunned. But unaware of their reactions, Vivian simply bowed her head deeply.
I called out, but I don’t know what to say next!
She saw the black aura dissipate into the air. Thankfully, he seemed to have regained his senses—but now she was in danger instead.
In the original story, Aslan utterly despised Vivian.
So much so that while she was dying of tuberculosis, he annulled their engagement and immediately proposed to her half-sister—the original female lead.
Vivian’s reputation in high society had always been the worst, but this incident even sparked a wave of sympathy for her. It had been an unbearably humiliating memory.
She hated her half-sister so much, she tried to kill her, even knowing she’d be disowned by the family.
Vivian couldn’t understand why Aslan had placed her in such a lavish bedroom.
If he’d just left her to die in the woods, their breakup would’ve been much simpler.
I mean, I’m grateful he saved me, and I really appreciate that he cleaned me up and even brought a doctor, but…
Torn between fear and gratitude, Vivian ultimately chose to side with gratitude and forced a sweet smile.
At the same time, she lowered her gaze in a sorrowful manner, hoping to make it clear she wasn’t challenging his authority.
“I’m fine. Really.”
“You’re fine?”
“I’m used to the pain. No one knows my body better than I do. Cough, cough!”
Trying to convey two emotions at once wasn’t easy, and she choked again. Shaking slightly, she steadied her breath.
The room once again fell into a heavy silence. Aslan’s face twisted with a terrifying expression, like he was about to cut someone down.
Why isn’t he saying anything? Did he not get what I meant…?
Still bowing, Vivian grew nervous at the unexpected silence. All she could hear were the servants holding their breaths anxiously.
This is maddening. Is it illegal to make two expressions at once in this country?
She feared for the safety of her neck.
Unable to take it anymore, Vivian cautiously looked up—and immediately froze.
Earlier, she had grabbed Aslan’s forearm to stop his transformation, and she was still holding on.
No wonder he looked so displeased. No one would enjoy being touched by a woman they despised.
“Ah.”
Startled, Vivian quickly let go. But in that moment, Aslan grabbed her delicate wrist.
The heat from his skin burned where they touched.
“Why do you keep avoiding my gaze?”
“That’s…”
“Look at me.”
Aslan’s gaze deepened as he stared down at her.
Like a predator just before the hunt, the emotion in his eyes was clear—possessiveness.
But the standoff didn’t last long. Vivian looked down at her restrained wrist.
Her slender arm caught in his large, firm hand.
Aslan held her as if she were a fragile glass doll, but from an outsider’s perspective, it looked like he was threatening her.
Clicking his tongue, Aslan slowly released her hand, as if caressing the back of it. Then, forcing his stern expression to soften, he spoke.
“I may have pushed you too hard. You must’ve been surprised, not knowing the full situation.”
Relieved, Vivian nodded fervently—though only in her heart.
“This is my country house in the south.”
“Pardon?”
Vivian reflexively asked.
Aslan’s estate was located in the empire’s north. His supporters were concentrated there.
In other words, he had no ties to the south.
Isn’t the south part of the crown prince’s territory? Isn’t that risky?
Aslan seemed to realize her suspicion but didn’t answer. Instead, he awkwardly scratched his neck and changed the topic.
“You’ve just entered my family as my wife, and I’m sorry to have you stay in such a modest place. Once your health improves, I’ll move you to my townhouse in the capital.”
Vivian blinked blankly.
There was something in what he just said that didn’t make any sense. No matter how she thought about it—it just didn’t add up!
“Wife? What do you mean…?”
“As soon as we reach the capital, we’ll hold the ceremony. You’ll be the most beautiful bride in the world.”
Ceremony? What ceremony? Who said anything about that?
Too stunned, Vivian didn’t even notice the way Aslan was looking at her.
The way his hand kept clenching and unclenching in the air, as if he wanted to pull her into an embrace—she didn’t see it at all.
“But I’d like to announce that you’re my wife as soon as possible. So sign this first.”
Aslan handed her a marriage certificate.
On it, her name had already been changed—Vivian Eleonora Astaroth.
This man?!
Bombarded by the flood of absurdities, Vivian’s brain finally gave up and went on strike.
