Caught out, Livia lowered her head and answered softly, “Yes. I don’t want to go back. If possible, I don’t even want to return to the Capital. I want to go back to the little village where I grew up, even though there’s nothing left there.”
“I understand.” Friedrich sighed.
“We are here, able to be received by His Majesty, not because of me, but because of you. I’ve already taken too much from you… As a father, I’ve made too many mistakes. Just now, it was only instinct to try to secure what looked like a more stable, brighter future for you.”
“You know, this triumph brings us not just glory, but also…”
“Hostility,” Livia answered softly.
Friedrich gave his daughter an approving glance.
“Yes, hostility. The Laval House is, in some ways, just like us. But even together, our power is still too weak. In the future, no one can protect you.”
“Livia, no matter how strong you are, the road ahead is long. What will you do if you have to stand against everyone? You can’t just become a fugitive, can you?”
Livia really wanted to retort: First, there’s no long future at all—only the end. Second, she’d been a fugitive in other nightmares before.
She didn’t care about her noble status or luxury; a meal and the chance to fight to her heart’s content was enough.
If things got desperate, she could just become a mercenary.
But in the end, Livia held back her urge to retort.
Her father’s sudden willingness to communicate made her view the Count of the Borderlands in a slightly better light.
“I… don’t care about the noble life you value. I have no interest in your title. If ‘Mother’ wants her real son to inherit, I fully support it. I have no objections.”
“After all, you love him more than me, don’t you?”
“……”
Friedrich felt a headache coming on.
Why did both Livia and her brother say the same thing? Was he really so obviously biased?
Thinking about it, perhaps he was.
Guilt made him sigh again.
“Livia, you can try getting to know that Allen de Laval boy. I’ve asked around—he recently made a public confession. He sounded quite sincere; I’ve changed my mind about him.”
“I’ve thought it through. As long as you think this engagement can bring you happiness, I’ll fully support you. Even if you ultimately break it off, I won’t be angry. If anyone dares to hurt you over it, they’ll have to step over my corpse first! We of the Stern family are warriors guided by the Stellar!”
“If we can’t play the nobles’ hypocritical game, then there’s no need to force ourselves to act like gentlemen and ladies. Livia, go—do what you want to do. I don’t have your kind of strength, but adults have their own battles to fight.”
After so many nightmare cycles, this was the first time Livia had seen her stern father show such paternal warmth.
A faint warmth grew in her heart, but even more, the long-repressed grievances welled up.
Her eyes grew hot, nearly brimming with tears. “If only you’d been like this sooner… I wouldn’t have suffered so much… I didn’t even get to see Mother one last time…”
“Ah, ah, ah—sorry! It’s all my fault!” Friedrich apologized over and over.
This nightmare… it seemed, was not entirely cold and hopeless.
Why were these changes happening? Could it also be because of Allen de Laval?
The two of them finally arrived at the Throne Hall, where they met the legendary, mysterious monarch—Louis Durand, Louis XI.
The Throne Hall was grand and solemn, colored light from stained glass windows casting mottled shadows, the air filled with the scent of incense and dust.
Rumor had it that Louis XI was a shriveled, sunken-eyed, neurotic old man curled in a wheelchair.
Yet the king they saw was a vigorous, healthy-looking man in his prime.
He was lean and fit, clearly accustomed to exercise, his gaze keen and piercing, nothing like the decrepit figure of legend.
“My faithful vassal, I am truly glad to see you.”
The king’s voice was strong and commanding. He even rose from the throne himself and personally helped the kneeling father and daughter to their feet.
Friedrich was overwhelmed: “Your Majesty, you need not…”
“You are the pillar of my kingdom. Such a small gesture is nothing.” The king smiled kindly, with none of the rumored eccentricity.
Then he looked appreciatively at Livia. “So this is our kingdom’s hero. Not bad—more impressive than I expected.”
“To have such beauty, yet refuse to be merely a decorative flower—that is how a noble should be!”
The king’s final words were delivered with emphasis, carrying a hidden meaning that made Friedrich break out in a cold sweat.
Clearly, he was displeased with the current crop of nobles; the rumors were not groundless.
“Your Majesty, you flatter me. To fight for the innocent is the duty of a noble of the sigil. Our bloodline exists for battle, not for pleasure and decay.”
Livia’s calm, upright response before the apex of royal power made a flash of approval flicker in Louis XI’s eyes.
“Indeed, my judgment was not mistaken. You grew up among commoners and did not pick up the arrogance and corruption of other nobles.”
The king turned to the Count of the Borderlands. “Your family education is quite commendable.”
“Not at all, Your Majesty. I am deeply ashamed to receive such praise,” Friedrich replied humbly, though inwardly he was panicking—
Forgive me, Your Majesty! My family education was actually a disaster! Livia succeeded on her own!
My other children are exactly the kind of arrogant, ugly nobles you complain about…
King Louis resumed his seat, regarding Livia with deep, searching eyes.
“Miss Hero, you’ve achieved great merit this time. What reward do you want? A noble title? Gold and jewels? Or those rare ancient relics? I can grant you anything.”
“……”
Hearing this, Livia realized with sudden clarity that this nightmare was already utterly different from all her countless previous cycles.
In her past nightmares, she had never seen this king, much less been received and rewarded by him.
And the king’s offer of rewards suddenly stirred up a long-suppressed desire deep within her heart.
Her heart beat faster despite herself.
Though she hated political intrigue, she fully understood the rules by which politics operated.
She clearly realized that at this moment, she was closer to the highest power in the kingdom than anyone else—closer than even the two heirs, closer to a chance to truly change her fate, perhaps even the future itself!
Livia pondered for a moment, then raised her head. In her blue eyes, there was not a trace of timidity before a superior—only the crystal-clear determination of complete understanding.
“Your Majesty, I have a request that may be presumptuous. You may be angered by what I ask, but I wish to say it nonetheless.”
King Louis’s face showed lively interest. “Speak.”
Friedrich was suddenly filled with intense anxiety.
His daughter had just been so rebellious—now was she going to aim her rebellion at the king himself?
Livia, please, don’t say anything that will anger His Majesty!
This so-called presumptuous request—it’s just a joke, right?
In a bright, steady voice, Livia sincerely requested, “Your Majesty, I hope… you can once again shoulder the burden of this nation and save our people… save humanity.”
Livia, what are you saying ahhhhh!!!!!!
In Friedrich’s horrified eyes, Louis Durand not only failed to get angry but burst into hearty laughter.
It was not the polite smile of a monarch, but a genuine, long-suppressed laugh of true relief.
He rose again, walked over to Livia, and studied the beautiful girl intently, as if seeing through to her very core. Narrowing his eyes, he asked,
“Your Stellar Bloodline should allow you to sense things others cannot. You… have you discovered something?”
Livia nodded silently.
“As I thought! As I thought!” The king grew so excited he trembled. “I was right! I was right! Those fools never believed me! Now, at last, I can… begin my plan!”
“Your Majesty…” Friedrich was completely at a loss, unable to follow their conversation at all.
“My faithful vassal,” King Louis addressed the Count of the Borderlands, his tone brooking no refusal, “I need to speak with your daughter alone. Go wait in the dining hall—the Celebration Banquet is already prepared for you.”
“Y-yes, Your Majesty.” Friedrich could only bow and accept.
As he withdrew from the Throne Hall, full of confusion and unease, through the slowly closing heavy doors, he caught a final glimpse of the king and his daughter—
He saw a strange scene: both seemed to be enveloped by a noble sense of mission, their faces grave and solemn, as if partaking in some sacred communion.
It was as if they were discussing something vast and transcendent—something that concerned the future of humanity itself.
Their conversation flowed unimpeded, not as ruler and subject, but as like-minded companions of different generations.
On Livia’s face was an expression Friedrich had never seen before—profound worry, compassion, and a kind of almost moth-to-flame resolve to sacrifice herself willingly.
Livia…
It was only today that Friedrich truly came to know his daughter.
She had never been a delicate puppet to be manipulated by others; she was fated to be immortalized in history—a true hero.
But for some reason, a powerful foreboding filled his heart—he felt he would one day lose her.
The immortality of a hero is often built on the sacrifice of flesh and blood; beneath the monument of legend lie the buried remains of the happy, warm life she should have had.
No… if that is truly the case… he really shouldn’t… shouldn’t have brought her here…
The massive doors shut completely, ruthlessly cutting off Friedrich’s gaze and separating him and Livia into two different worlds.
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