Chapter Seven

Livia smiled in satisfaction, but Croft remained serious.

“Dancing is not important to me,” he said.

She went straight to the point. “Come to think of it, it’ll be difficult to teach you anything. I think it would be better if His Highness found another etiquette instructor.”

Croft leaned down toward her. “Right. Perhaps we should discuss that.”

“As you wish, Your Highness.”

“Do you not want to be my tutor?”

It seemed the vicious beast wasn’t quite as dim as she’d thought. Although she wanted to ask him if he’d realized her true feelings just now, she merely glanced at him coyly. The question would have been too direct.

Though undeniably a madman, Croft had learned to read the air. When he sensed he was correct, he clucked his tongue. “Why? What is the reason?”

It seemed he only knew how to speak directly. Well, beating around the bush wouldn’t work with this man. “Your Highness, my father asked me to become your instructor because he wants me to become your wife.”

“I’m aware of that.”

“What?”

“I plan on taking you as my wife, so you can be honest if you don’t want to be my tutor. Even if you quit, I’ll marry you regardless. If you doubt my words, we can hold an engagement ceremony before I ascend the throne.”

She stared speechlessly at him. What was he talking about? Get married—why? Was it because things had to go according to the book’s plot, to become a tyrant and have me killed?

She shook her head and tried to recall the plot of Being Loved by a Tyrant. Croft wasn’t particularly fond of Livia Blanche in the novel. They weren’t close, even once she’d become empress. Moreover, he virtually abandoned her once he met Lilian.

She’d been sure Croft wouldn’t want to marry her. Is it because he hasn’t met Lilian yet? Yes, that must be it. Livia Blanche isn’t a bad partner for a political marriage. She’d thought it odd when he apologized after she punched him in the face. Looking back, it must’ve all been part of his plan.

Quitting as Croft’s tutor wouldn’t solve her problems.

“Your Highness, I can continue being your etiquette tutor,” she replied with a light sigh. “What I don’t want is what you mentioned after that.”

“You mean you don’t want to marry me.”

She nodded firmly.

“What is the reason?”

Croft thought the question was pointless since her reason wouldn’t make any difference. And yet he couldn’t take his eyes away from her pink lips.

Livia almost told him the truth—because I don’t want to die by your hands—but then stopped herself. In her old world, this would have merely spoiled the book; here, it would sound like complete nonsense. She searched for another answer, but all she could come up with was an emotional outburst: Because I hate you. Because you’re crazy. She couldn’t possibly say such things to his face.

She must remain silent.

Croft watched her closely; her pink lips tightened, and her eyes fixed on the floor. Does she like someone else? Or is it because she doesn’t like me? Neither alternative made him happy.

He tapped his fingers on the armrest of the finely crafted sofa as he pondered. “Let’s do it this way. You pretend that you are my etiquette tutor until I ascend the throne, with the support of your father, and consolidate my power.”

“You mean—”

“Once I seize power, I won’t need to care who he wants me to marry.”

In the novel, he became a perfect tyrant who eradicated the entire Blanche bloodline after taking the throne. But it appeared that the man who so bluntly said he would receive protection from Duke Blanche by pretending to betroth himself to his daughter but would dismiss the duke once in power was already a tyrant. She felt sorry for Duke Blanche, whose efforts would be fruitless.

However, although the Livia in the novel might’ve been the sort of daughter who would sacrifice herself for her father, this Livia didn’t feel any attachment toward the duke. In fact, this detachment might save both Livia and the duke. In the novel, Duke Blanche lost favor with Croft not because he had meddled in the emperor’s affairs but simply because he was his father-in-law. Nevertheless, it would be better to betray the duke as his daughter than to allow the whole House of Blanche to be exterminated.

A satisfied smile rose to her lips. “Do you promise you would allow me to go anywhere I want afterward?”

“Anywhere.”

The deal between Livia and Croft was sealed, behind the duke’s back.

She put her hand over her heart and bowed to Croft. “Teaching you etiquette would be my honor, Your Highness.”

Croft smiled. “I look forward to your instruction.”

She lifted her head and flashed him a beatific smile, as if she had received the biggest prize of all.

Used to seeing her show anger or no emotion at all, Croft was taken aback. He rose and extended a hand. “Let’s have dinner.”

Just as she was about to take his hand and rise, she noticed his other hand approach and drew back.

“It might be better if you abstain from using your foot until the swelling goes away.” Croft effortlessly lifted her in his arms and began to walk.

She forced herself not to grab his hair by instinct, to honor the secret agreement they had made. “Your Highness, when you touch a woman’s body—”

“I need to ask her permission first. I know that.”

Does he really, though? She shook her head and sighed.

Slightly worried that she might hit him again, Croft relaxed at her reaction. At least he didn’t need to fret that she might accidentally break her hand or foot on him.

Livia, on the other hand, remained deep in thought, her throbbing foot swaying over his arms. Now that she’d found a way to keep herself alive, it was time to figure out what to do next. She was content with Croft’s offer for now, but knowing that he was destined to become a crazy tyrant, she couldn’t fully trust him. He could change his mind at any time.

I need to get stronger if I’m to run away.

Self-reliance.

The idea shone in Livia’s mind as bright as a star.

***

Duke Blanche was already in the dining hall when Croft carried Livia in. At the sight of the two of them, he smiled contentedly. His plan had already begun to work in his favor; they seemed to be getting closer every day. His plan to make his daughter the next empress would go smoothly, too. Indeed, what man wouldn’t fall for Livia’s appearance and elegant bearing? Although he had always regretted not having a son, he was proud of his daughter’s upbringing.

The duke bowed to his future son-in-law and emperor with respect.

Livia, who could easily read what the old man was thinking, clucked her tongue.

Croft glanced in her direction and carefully set her in her chair, wondering what was bothering her this time.

To the duke, the exchange appeared as if the future emperor was treating his daughter with great care. His smile grew even wider, and with an affectionate look at his daughter, he asked, “Did something happen to your leg?”

“I got help from His Highness because I injured my foot.”

“You injured your foot? How did that happen?”

“I stumbled.”

“Oh dear, you should be more careful.”

Knowing her father was a perfectionist and a nag, she lowered her head and averted her eyes.

Unable to badger his daughter in front of Croft, Duke Blanche turned toward the crown prince. “Your Highness, how was the etiquette lesson with my daughter? It seems the two of you are getting along nicely.”

“She has fine methods of instruction,” Croft said. “I am learning much.”

The duke brightened. He glanced back at Livia, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. After all, she knew better than anyone how “fine” her methods were.

Croft chuckled.

Duke Blanche wanted to beat his chest with elation. The man who would become emperor in a week was smiling at his daughter. “She will be the perfect support for you, Your Highness.”

“I agree,” Croft said without hesitation.

Livia sneaked a glance at Croft. He seemed too calm for someone who’d just agreed to join forces with her to betray the duke. If someone saw you, they’d think you were sincere.

Croft ignored Livia’s glance. “What did Prince Persilot say?”

“As expected, he mentioned Prince Ipsen.”

Livia stopped eating and perked up her ears.