Chapter Nine

Croft had only been trying to make a joke, but he shut his mouth immediately when Livia looked sullen. He considered how to cheer her up, but it would be too obvious a lie to tell her she wasn’t weak. In the end, the two of them returned to Livia’s room in awkward silence.

He set her down on her balcony. Georgette glowered at him but calmly followed Livia’s order to bring tea. The late autumn breeze in the garden was quite pleasant.

Truth be told, Livia was truly worried. Even Croft noticed that her mind was somewhere else, although he thought she was disappointed that things hadn’t turned out as she’d planned and then she’d been injured on top of that.

“Your posture is straight, and your movements are fast,” he said. “You’ll be much stronger if you gain some muscle and learn basic techniques.”

“Pardon?”

“The most important thing when you attack people isn’t your strength but your ability to control it. Your opponent will be injured if you precisely hit the parts you aim at. Otherwise, you’re simply wasting your energy attacking without a strategy. Control and precision come from the muscles.”

“Attack?” What kind of nonsense is he talking about?

“Think about what happened earlier. Your posture wasn’t fit for attacking. You could’ve injured your forehead or broken your neck.”

By “earlier,” does he mean when I tried to headbutt him in the jaw? She sneaked a glance as he continued his nonsensical utterances.

He seemed serious. “If you overexert yourself, you could break something. How about attacking with your palms? Slapping, for example.”

Her earlier guess about what Croft was trying to explain to her was right—the man who would become an emperor in a week was trying to teach her how to hit him more effectively. Livia was so flabbergasted that she forgot about the tea.

“I don’t think you would feel any pain if I slapped you,” she said.

“Even if you punched me,” he agreed, “don’t you think?”

“Your Highness, don’t you think that it would be best if you didn’t do anything that deserved a beating?”

He shrugged with a surly expression. “I wish I could, but I can’t guarantee that. As you know, I’m not used to the customs here. Anyway, it doesn’t hurt when you hit me. It feels like butterflies landing on my skin.”

It would be more convenient to just do as he wished, he concluded, and get hit from time to time. Even if she were to hit him with all her might, he wouldn’t feel a thing.

Anyone close to Croft would have been shocked to hear such thoughts. After all, he was the merciless Mad Dog from the Eastern Frontier, who never forgave anyone who crossed him. But Croft, too, realized that these conclusions were uncharacteristic. At first, he’d felt angry and confused when she hit him, but then he’d begun to think it wasn’t a big deal. He’d apparently done something to deserve it.

The problem was that Livia got injured every time. Still, the trade-off of getting hit in exchange for the freedom of doing what he wished wasn’t bad.

Livia uncharacteristically clanked her teacup onto the table. Like butterflies, indeed. She felt the urge to float like a butterfly and sting him like a bee. “I should try to improve my strength to live up to your expectations, Your Highness.”

She tried her best to sound menacing, but Croft, who was used to the life-and-death situations of the Eastern Frontier, didn’t even notice. “Do you want me to teach you?”

“Teach me what?” He asked.

“Etiquette. And in exchange, I’ll teach you how to fight.”

She’d never considered learning how to fight. All she wanted now was to make this body stronger. “I don’t need to learn how to fight, Your Majesty.”

“You do.”

She declined with a smile, but he seemed serious. She asked, “Are you telling me I have to learn how to fight so I can hit you better?” Did he forget how this conversation started?

“Whatever you do, it’s always better to do it right.”

What the heck? Is he a masochist? She scooted back cautiously from the table. “I can take care of my strength myself.”

Croft chuckled. “It would not be easy for a lady to train alone.”

What Livia needed was some light exercise such as running or jump rope, not professional training, but she realized it would be difficult to exercise alone. Livia Blanche hadn’t exercised in all her twenty-two years, because she believed that sweating and breathing fast were unbecoming for a young lady. Everyone in the mansion would be shocked if the duke’s elegant daughter suddenly began exercising. I should do something with this frail body if I want to live independently in the future.

She glanced at Croft. The novel portrayed Croft as an expert swordsman. Perhaps he’s also a skilled fighter. I could ignore him and jump rope if he tried to teach me something weird. No one would be suspicious if I spent time with Croft. In fact, Duke Blanche would be more than thrilled. Using Croft to make her father happy was a good enough reason to agree to exercise with him.

She made up her mind and nodded slightly. “I’m looking forward to your lessons, Your Highness.”

“Me, too,” he replied with a satisfied smile. Now that he’d found a brilliant excuse to skip her boring etiquette lessons, he briskly gulped the rest of his tea.

***

A long and difficult day passed, and morning came. Livia sat in front of the mirror again and sighed.

Georgette was dismayed by her melancholy for the second day in a row. The reflection of the young lady’s sorrowful face made her struggle to hold back her tears.

Livia, who had no idea that Georgette was worried about her, gazed woefully at the reflection of the beautiful and elegant woman in the mirror. Flashbacks of the things she’d done the other day flashed through her mind. She’d tried to kick and punch Croft, but all her efforts came to naught. They didn’t even make him flinch. Then she’d promised to follow him to the palace and serve as his etiquette tutor—and on top of this, she’d promised to learn murder techniques from him.

No, they aren’t murder techniques. They’re attack techniques. Well, whatever the techniques may be, they’re murderous in his hands. Moreover, I even decided to facilitate his relationship with the heroine, Lilian, and maintain peace in this world. Am I crazy? I must’ve gone mad.

But the really crazy thing was that after she’d woken up and thought about what had happened the previous day, she realized she wouldn’t have done a single thing differently. Croft was so different from the way he was portrayed in the novel.

Is it because the story hasn’t started yet in this timeline? I thought he was the worst when I read the book, but he’s not that bad in person. They say you can’t change people, but maybe I still have chance to survive. He still hasn’t completely gone mad.

Since her life depended on him, she needed to find evidence that he wasn’t crazy. Still thinking of something that she would regret the next day, she stood up from her vanity.

“Ouch.” She’d put her weight on her right foot, forgetting it was injured. She collapsed back into the chair. The foot had only been throbbing yesterday, but today it was swollen too. She slid her poor foot into a slipper because her shoe wouldn’t fit. Even her stockings felt too tight, so she remained barefoot.

“My lady, are you all right?” Georgette asked while helping her up.

“It’s fine, Georgette. Don’t worry about me.” She really must do something about this frail body of Livia’s.

It was then that Croft strode in, looking refreshed and energetic. He stood before Livia, who was sitting on the sofa. “My lady, may I?”

Before she could answer, he lifted her effortlessly.

She tried not to sigh when she saw Georgette throwing silent curses at Croft. “Your Highness, shouldn’t you wait for an answer when you ask a question? Also, it is rude and inappropriate to act this way before even exchanging greetings.”

“It seems you’ve had a good night’s sleep. Your skin looks better than yesterday.”

“That’s not how you greet people.”

Regardless of how nitpicky she was, somehow she didn’t make Croft angry anymore. What’s more, her words made him wonder whether he may have actually done something wrong. No matter what kind of life he’d led at the Eastern Frontier and despite growing up hearing people say that he didn’t deserve a princely title, he was about to become emperor. He had so many things to do once he became emperor, and he wanted to do them properly. He wanted to become a better leader than his father had been, to prove to both his late father (who’d despised him) and everyone else who’d doubted him that they were wrong.

But to do that, there were many things that he had to learn.

Since the most graceful woman of the Luwens empire said it, it couldn’t be wrong. He would try to do anything Livia asked him to.

He began again. “Good morning.”

Livia smiled at the future tyrant, who looked as though he wouldn’t listen to anyone but did everything she asked of him.

“Good morning, Your Highness. Did you sleep well?”

“Well, yes, I did.”

Although her morning greeting wasn’t heartfelt, it was the first time in a while since anyone had offered kindly greetings to Croft. Every genteel word she spoke was a song with the power to grab his attention. Is it because we decided to join forces yesterday? Her greeting made him feel strange and ticklish inside.