WLTIS | CHAPTER 04

Chapter 4

***

As long as the problems of the Duchy of Cassius remained unresolved, Harvich would never look at her.

Lincia knew that truth better than anyone.

The reason she had begun such a hopeless one-sided love was painfully simple.

Harvich had been the only one who ever showed her kindness.

The lucky girl.

Lincia knew that was how people in the Academy referred to her.

But she had never quite understood why.

She thought it was simply because she had been born into the imperial family.

And it wasn’t long before she realised that being called “lucky” had meant something else entirely.

[Seian Durand has departed to the side of the gods.]

Her younger brother, who, like her, had no interest in the throne, had passed away.

Their familial bond had been faint, but his death struck Lincia deeply, for the reason behind it was all too clear, though no one spoke of it aloud.

Only then did she finally understand why she was “lucky.”

In the Academy, factional struggles and political rivalries were forbidden.

And Lincia, who had claimed to be preparing for an exhibition, had kept herself locked away in her dormitory.

By doing so, she had escaped death.

She immediately postponed her graduation.

Remaining in the Academy was the only way to prolong her life.

Still, she could never shake the sense that the shadow of death brushed the back of her neck.

So she flattened herself as much as possible.

She cancelled the exhibition she had once planned and refrained from even the slightest action that could be mistaken for political ambition.

She desperately sought to prove she had no interest whatsoever in the throne or power.

She even avoided doing well on exams, fearing her grades might draw unwanted attention.

She refused friendships and pushed away the ones she already had.

It didn’t take effort to vanish; she was already invisible.

The nobles at the Academy treated her as if she didn’t exist.

Even so, she bowed low, careful not to offend her eldest brother, the newly crowned emperor.

It was all just a passing storm.

If she endured now, she would survive.

Lincia smiled as though she were oblivious to everything.

She made small talk, waited for replies that never came, and acted like she understood nothing.

Even when she was clearly excluded—left uninformed when classes were rescheduled—she pretended not to notice.

That alone could save her life.

She discovered the hollow, withering shell of herself inside, but she ignored it.

It offered no help in staying alive.

She endured her lonely hours with the single conviction to survive.

That solitude ended because of one man.

“Are you conscious?”

Lincia came to her senses.

Through her dim vision, she saw a man.

Hair touched with silver, eyes the colour of blood.

It was not hard to recognise him as a man of House Cassius.

Silver hair and red eyes were their unmistakable traits.

“…Ah.”

“You had collapsed.

I brought you here for now.”

She tried to recall what had happened, but her head felt clouded with fog.

…She thought she had drunk something.

Her head throbbed too much to remember.

She heard the crackle of burning firewood, smelled a thick, pungent scent.

Where… is this?

Her mind was so clouded that she almost thought of death.

Only when his cool hand touched her brow did she realise her body ached everywhere.

Lincia let out a shallow breath, glancing around. She was cradled in his arms.

They were not warm, but the faint presence of another human being calmed her.

The crackling fire, the patter of rain outside… she blinked.

“…Is it all right for you to acknowledge me?”

The question came late.

Most people in the Academy ignored her, fearing the emperor’s gaze.

For now, her brother allowed her to live so long as she did not provoke him.

But the young tyrant, so easily swayed by whispers, could crush a noble house on a whim.

“Either way, drawing the attention of a royal is the same.

It makes no difference.”

His tone meant don’t worry, yet at his words Lincia thought of the way the North was treated, and her lips quivered.

“…I’m sorry.”

His brows knit together.

“There’s nothing for you to apologise for.

I’ll bring medicine.”

He shifted, intending to rise. Warmth—faint though it was—vanished with him.

A chill swept in, and without thinking, she reached out to grasp him.

“Could you… Stay with me?”

“…?”

Surprise flickered across his face.

“…I’m sorry if that was too much.

I only said it because I was lonely.

I’m sorry.”

It was something he could have ignored.

Yet he granted her request.

Because I was lonely.

She didn’t know how those words affected him, but afterwards, he sometimes spoke to her.

“Is there anything you need?

Something you’d like to eat?”

Harvich was kind.

Within his limits, he helped her, trapped as she was in the Academy.

And at some point, Lincia could no longer stop her gaze from following him.

He was the one who cared for the horses, who brought clover for the rabbits.

A man who was tender toward fragile, gentle things.

Lincia squeezed her eyes shut.

Sleep would not come.

***

Several days after her pregnancy was confirmed, a dispatch arrived from the imperial palace.

Its contents were simple.

A gift to congratulate her condition, and a request to provide accommodations where a court physician could stay long-term to ensure her safe delivery.

The moment the message was received, the retainers of the ducal house erupted in unease.

Another emergency council was called.

They would have to prepare a suitable residence for the imperial physician, and every incriminating trace of their planned rebellion would need to be hidden.

“Where shall we prepare quarters for the physician?

He may remain here at least a year.”

Lincia’s pregnancy had overturned everything.

The rebellion was already delayed.

That alone created countless variables.

“…The domains we negotiated with won’t go back on their word, will they?”

The greatest problem remained food.

Though they knew nothing of the duchy’s full plans for independence, some lords had agreed to trade grain once the North secured autonomy over its harvest.

Until now, even if the duchy declared itself a principality, there would have been no issue.

But Lincia’s child complicated everything.

The emperor would claim that no matter whose child it was, it carried the blood of a Cassius duke.

That alone could spark a massive conflict.

At worst, he might brand the lords trading food with the North as traitors.

“If the crown pressures them, even independence won’t guarantee us grain.”

“…Until we secure foreign suppliers, we can’t move recklessly.”

Resigned sighs drifted across the chamber.

“Nor can we dismiss the duchess now.

She carries a potential heir.”

Harvich pressed his temple against the growing throb of a headache.

“The phys

ician will be lodged away from the forge.

Assign Terasa as his escort.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“For the imperial side to send a watcher so openly… They must suspect something.

We should at least be grateful we haven’t rushed our plans.”