Chapter 45 – I am confident

Liv regains consciousness to find herself in a familiar setting: the ornate ceiling of the Duchess’s bedroom adorned with cherubs, flowers, and fruits, symbols of fertility and abundance. Her body feels heavy, as if weighed down by water-soaked cotton, and she struggles to turn her head toward the sunlit window. Through a hazy mist, she sees the silhouette of a man standing by the window.

“It’s Ian,” she realizes, recognizing him immediately. The afternoon sun casts a purple hue in his eyes, which returns to their usual bright blue as he turns to face her.

“Are you awake now?”

Ian asks, his voice gentle as he approaches her. The light behind him highlights his gaunt appearance; he looks thinner, as if he’s been through a lot. Despite this, his handsomeness remains irritatingly so. His appearance seems to have taken on a more refined, almost decadent air since they last met.

“Why are you crying?” he asks, noticing the tears in her eyes.

“…Because it’s too bright,” she replies, her voice barely a whisper. Ian hesitates for a moment before pulling the curtain halfway closed, then returns to her side.

“Is that better?” he asks, still trying to be gentle with her. Liv nods, finding comfort in his familiar care, even as she wipes away the tears that had fallen unconsciously. Struggling to sit up, she props herself against the headboard, and Ian sits at the edge of her bed.

“Did you enjoy your outing?” he asks, his tone probing.

Liv isn’t sure how to respond. She feels the weight of his intense gaze on her and knows he won’t stop until she gives an answer. Finally, she forces out a response, her voice hoarse.

“Yes.”

It wasn’t particularly enjoyable. After all, people are the same everywhere. There were times when she missed the soft, freshly laundered sheets of the mansion, especially after catching a cold from doing laundry in cold water the previous day.

Living in disguise, constantly on edge, had been exhausting, yet strangely comforting. The thought that if things went wrong, only her own life would be at stake brought her some solace. But, as usual, she lies, saying,

“It was nice. Much better.”

Ian’s expression falters, and he bites his lip as if her words have hurt him. He takes her hand, examining it carefully. Liv instinctively resists, but then she relaxes when she realizes he’s only checking the state of her hand. Her roughened skin and cracked nails show the toll of living without the comforts she was used to—no longer enjoying three meals a day prepared by others.

“What was so unbearable?” Ian asks, his voice laced with a hint of frustration.

Liv doesn’t know how to answer. She used to think she could endure his coldness for the sake of comfort and status. But after nearly dying, she realized she could no longer bear the thought of living under the same roof with him.

“Just… everything,” she replies, pulling her hand back as she notices the strength leaving Ian’s grip.

“Everything.”

Surprisingly, she feels calm talking about this. Before, just seeing Ian would have made her heart race, but now, her heart remains steady. Something strange fills the room—an unusual, smoky fragrance.

“Did you light something? What’s with the smoke?” Liv asks.

Ian answers calmly, “It’s what Raphael gave me. A scent that mages like to burn… it’s supposed to stabilize magic.”

Oh, she thinks, relieved. I thought it was something strange. The scent doesn’t just stabilize magic; it seems to have a calming effect as well. She feels drowsy and heavy. After all the strange medicines she’s tried, the one she likes best is the fast-acting sedative that calms her nerves.

“So, what day is it?” Liv asks, trying to gauge how much time has passed.

Ian doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, he frowns and changes the subject.

“Why do you ask so naturally?” he questions, his voice tinged with an uncharacteristic emotion.

“What do you mean?” Liv replies, confused.

“Why does it seem so natural for you to wake up and immediately ask what day it is?” Ian’s voice cracks with frustration.

Why is he the one getting upset? she wonders, feeling a strange urge to laugh instead of getting angry, probably because of the sedative’s effects.

“I guess I’ve gotten used to it. It’s been almost a year now,” she says, recalling that the New Year’s Ball is coming up soon. I hope I haven’t been unconscious for months again, she thinks to herself before asking Ian again.

“…So, what day is it today? Have I slept for long?”

“You collapsed yesterday, so you’ve only been out for about a day.”

“Oh, thank goodness. My friends must have been worried,” Liv says as she tries to get out of bed, her body still feeling like it’s weighed down. Just as she swings her legs over the side of the bed, Ian grabs her wrist. The sudden resistance pulls her back, and the inertia of her movement snaps her back like a rubber band.

Liv inadvertently tumbles onto Ian’s lap, her nose bumping into his shoulder hard enough to bring tears to her eyes. She quickly scrambles off, annoyance flashing across her face.

“What are you doing?” she snaps.

Ian looks just as surprised as she is, quickly letting go of her and apologizing.

“…Ah, sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

Liv realizes that her weakened state caused the stumble, not Ian’s actions. She scowls and turns away from him, but after just a few steps, dizziness overwhelms her, and she has to sit down.

“Liv, are you okay?” Ian asks, concern lacing his voice.

“…This is so frustrating.”

“Lie down. I’ll bring you whatever you need,” Ian says gently, helping her back onto the bed. Liv grumbles about her weak body and flops down onto the mattress.

“Call Jane for me,” she orders.

Ian hesitates before responding, which prompts Liv to glare at him. He finally admits,

“She’s on leave. I sent someone to fetch her, but she’s gone to her hometown, so it will take some time for her to return.”

“When did she leave?” Liv asks, a sinking feeling in her chest.

“About two months ago.”

Liv sighs. Jane’s hometown is in the southern regions, so it could take at least another month for her to return. Liv sighs again, deeper this time.

“Then open the windows, will you? The scent in here is making me feel worse.”

Ian obediently opens the window, letting in the cool spring air, which immediately starts to clear her head. He also extinguishes the incense before returning to her side.

“Where’s my bag?” Liv asks.

“Your bag?” Ian repeats, sounding puzzled.

He must not have brought it, Liv realizes. That means Greta probably has it. Her bag had some important things in it—tranquilizers and cash that would be a waste to lose. At least she had left other valuables in the inn’s safe. She reaches for her neck and notices something missing.

“My necklace?” she demands, her anxiety spiking.

Ian remains silent, and Liv bites her lip, panic rising.

“Give it back, Ian. My necklace.”

Ian looks down at her quietly before sighing deeply. When he speaks, his voice is calm but firm.

“No. You’ll just try to run away again.”

“Ian.”

“How did you even think of going to Isabella? I thought you didn’t like her. Or was that just another lie?” Ian’s words are tinged with bitterness as he sits on the edge of the bed again. His gaze is intense, making Liv uncomfortable enough to tug at the bed sheets.

“What were you going to say that day?” he asks suddenly.

“What?”

“That day at the bank…”

Ian’s lips twitch into a small, ironic smile.

“Was that all a lie too?”

“…”

“I never knew you were so good at lying, Liv. If I had known, I would’ve been more careful.”

“…”

“I’ll return the necklace to Isabella myself,” he says, his tone flat.

Liv frowns, a sense of déjà vu washing over her. The memory of Ian returning a knife to Raphael under similar circumstances flashes in her mind.

“I want to return it myself… If you don’t trust me, you can come with me,” Liv suggests, trying to sound reasonable.

“She’s being held in the palace. No visitors allowed,” Ian replies.

“What? Why?” Liv asks, alarmed, as she pushes herself up from the bed.

“She’s committed some crimes,” Ian says nonchalantly.

Liv grabs his arm, panic overtaking her.

“What did Isabella do?”

“Several things. Hiding that she’s a wizard, using unauthorized magic, and impersonating someone of higher status,” Ian lists off calmly.

Liv is stunned into silence. Legally, he’s right, but it still seems harsh.

“But everyone knew she was a wizard. Why are they punishing her for it now?”

Ian remains silent, and Liv’s mind races. It’s because of me, she realizes. They used Isabella when she was useful, but now that she’s not, they’re using her as leverage against me. Fury bubbles up within her. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and slowly gets out of bed this time, careful not to rush. Ian doesn’t stop her this time but rises to his feet as well.

“Liv, where are you going?” Ian asks, watching her closely.

“I’m going to the palace.”

“Why?”

“I’m going to see Her Majesty the Empress. Isabella worked so hard for Her Majesty; how can they just lock her up?”

It was too much from both Ian, the Empress, and the Emperor. I thought that at least Celia would understand, but if not, I was ready to confront Cade directly. However, all the anger that had been building up inside me dissipated with Ian’s next words.

“I didn’t say she was in prison.”

Ian sighed and continued.

“If you’re worried about Isabella, there’s no need. She should be doing well in the Empress’s quarters. About a month ago, she was caught withdrawing money from your account, then she ran off and made her way to the palace on her own. I just wanted to ask if you knew where she was, but since she’s under house arrest, she’s not allowed visitors…”

Is it just me, or does Ian’s usually expressionless face seem unusually gloomy?

“Everyone seems to think that I’m going to kill Isabella or something. They won’t even let me near the Empress’s quarters. The security is so strict, and Cade recently used the excuse of the newborn Prince, but that doesn’t seem to be it. Am I really that bad of a person?”

It seems that Cade and Celia have done their utmost to protect Isabella from Ian. Since Ian was not the type to lie to me, especially with such a dejected performance, I sighed in relief internally. But the next thing Ian said made me feel uneasy.

“Do you think that too, Liv? That’s why you’re worried about Isabella?”

I didn’t think he would kill her, but I did suspect that he might use her as leverage to threaten me… Now I wasn’t sure if I should apologize for my misunderstanding or offer comfort. Ian spoke with a voice full of frustration.

“I wouldn’t do that. I know you’d hate me if I did…”

I thought he wouldn’t care whether I hated him or not.

“I’m not going to do anything you’d hate me for. Oh, and it wasn’t me who put the portrait in the newspaper. That was Cade’s doing. Since Prince Arthur is too young, I can’t just kill him…”

What? I was very intrigued by what Ian muttered, but before I could react, he cupped my face, halting my thoughts.

“I’ve tried very hard, Liv. I’ve pondered it thousands of times. It seems like it would be easy to find something you’d hate, but if I did that, it would make it pointless to even find it. So I’ve really been holding back…”

What exactly have you been holding back? No, don’t tell me. I don’t want to know.