Livia struggled in a broken nightmare.
She dreamed of a boundless, shattered Sea of Stars.
Countless brilliant points of light — stars that should have burned eternally — extinguished one after another in her vision, swallowed by an invisible storm that swept through everything.
The once closely connected human world turned into countless isolated islands, separated from each other in the dark, deep sea.
She heard wails from far away; it was the cry of civilization heading toward madness and fratricide in solitude and despair.
She saw countless magnificent cities reduced to ruins in the flames of war.
The wonders of technology were forgotten, the embers of knowledge were trampled, and the surviving humans regressed into savage tribes, repeating a bloody and ignorant cycle on their isolated homelands.
It was a long, hopeless picture of darkness that had lasted for untold centuries.
Was that some ancient collective memory buried beneath the dust of history?
Or was it the shared trauma of the civilizations on this planet that had been destroyed and rebuilt time and again under the gaze of the “Observers”?
Livia didn’t know.
She only felt a sadness and powerlessness that penetrated her very bones.
When her consciousness rose from the heavy dream, the piercing light made her squint uncomfortably.
She was awake.
This wasn’t the cold, simple bedroom of the Stern House she was familiar with.
Soft bedding, white linen sheets, and the air was filled with a clean scent of sunshine mixed with a hint of… a person’s scent that made her feel inexplicably at ease.
She moved her body, only to find she was wearing a silk pajama top that was comically large. The sleeves were long enough to cover her entire palms — clearly a man’s style.
Fragments of memory began to piece together.
The slaughter on the dueling grounds, the roar of the Madwhisper Beast, and… Allen de Laval’s absurd yet seemingly sincere confession — “I love you! I love you and Marianne!”
Thinking of those words, an indescribable heat welled up in Livia’s chest. Her heart felt itchy and numb, making her press her hand against it.
Where… was she?
She tried to sense the Engraved Emblem Power within her. The power of the stars remained dormant, but it flowed steadily and strongly.
More importantly, the “Whispers of the Stars” that had haunted her for countless days and nights, incessantly babbling and tempting her toward destruction, had completely vanished.
The world was clearer than ever before.
This clarity allowed her to examine herself from an absolutely rational perspective she had never possessed.
She remembered her near-manic appearance during the duel and her selfishness and madness in dragging the entire Capital into danger just to seek release.
A sharp sense of shame pierced her heart.
‘How… will he look at me?’
The man who saw through all my disguises and was even willing to sacrifice himself for my so-called “happiness”…
Just then, Livia finally noticed there was a second person in this unfamiliar room.
He sat in an armchair by the window, bathed in the soft morning sunshine, holding a book.
He was so focused that he was as quiet as if he had merged with his surroundings, to the point that Livia’s sharp intuition as a top-tier warrior had instinctively ignored his presence.
It was Allen de Laval.
He wore a simple white shirt, his black hair shimmering softly in the morning light.
Those golden eyes, which always contained mockery or madness, were now focused intently on the pages, revealing a pure calmness and gentleness belonging to a scholar.
At this moment, he was completely different from any image in Livia’s memory.
He wasn’t the minor villain who died numbly in countless cycles, nor the desperate man who staked everything on assassinating the Crown Prince at the banquet, and certainly not the crazed warrior who fought her to the death on the dueling grounds.
He looked like a gentle, harmless ordinary student, a seeker of knowledge with the purest curiosity about the world.
Sunlight cast a faint golden halo around him, making him look unreal, as if he might dissipate into the light at any moment.
Livia’s heart skipped a heavy beat without warning.
She just watched him quietly, getting a bit dazed, not even knowing how much time had passed.
Until Allen seemed to notice something, looked up from the book, and his gaze met hers.
Livia subconsciously avoided his gaze, her cheeks flushing with an uncontrollable heat.
“Our Sleeping Beauty is finally awake?” Allen spoke softly, breaking the silence. “Unfortunately, there’s no prince to offer you a pure kiss. However, if you don’t mind, would a non-pure kiss from Marianne work?”
“…”
Livia was speechless.
For some reason, as soon as this man spoke, all the previous romantic and heart-fluttering atmosphere vanished instantly.
To alleviate the sudden embarrassment, Livia’s gaze fell on the book in his hand. “What are you reading?” she asked softly.
“Oh? This?” Allen seemed interested in her curiosity. He stood up and showed her the handwritten manuscript with the title The Lost Kingdom of Albion written in an archaic font on the cover.
“I found this by chance while strolling through the Judgement Court’s library. I was wondering where the Britain of this other-world Europe went, and then I found the answer.”
“Other-world? Europe? Britain?”
A series of strange words confused Livia, but strangely, her brain seemed to vaguely understand the meanings behind them. Why? It was as if this knowledge was already sleeping in some corner of her soul.
“What answer did you find?” she asked, following his lead.
Allen sat down on the edge of the bed and spread the book open, pointing to an ancient illustration depicting humanoid creatures with pointed ears.
“The ancestors who survived the last cycle pioneered homes on this continent. A group of bold adventurers crossed the sea and discovered a massive archipelago, which they named Albion.
“There, they encountered a wondrous race — Elves. They were very similar to humans but possessed nearly perfect bodies and unimaginable beauty. Most notably, they had pointed ears, quite different from ours.
“It’s said these adventurers were treated well by the Elves and invited to their homeland. It consisted of cities floating in the sky, constructed of singing crystals and living metal. The adventurers were shocked by such wonders and called it ‘El Dorado.’
“The Elves told the adventurers that this was their kingdom, inhabited for generations. They had arrived in this world earlier than humans and did not wish to be disturbed.
“However, the adventurers, who were politely sent back, ignored the warning. They organized a massive fleet, preparing to colonize the archipelago. But when they traveled there again according to the charts, they found that the massive archipelago… along with those sky cities, had all vanished. They found nothing but the endless sea.”
After hearing this legend, Livia felt it was just an interesting fantasy story, seemingly not worth Allen’s deep investment.
Allen seemed to see through her thoughts, a playful smile appearing on his face that she couldn’t decipher.
“This is a fantasy setting, after all. It wouldn’t make sense without elves, dwarves, or orcs! But it seems the original story hides quite a bit of content.
“Elves… interesting. If they really exist, I’d like to know if this race, set to have long lifespans, has been sitting on the sidelines throughout the 10,000 years of human cycles.”
Allen’s tone carried a hint of coldness at the end, as if he held some hostility toward these legendary fantasy races.
“Do you hate races other than humans?” Livia couldn’t help but ask.
“I think any civilization that has been tortured for 10,000 years by a malicious, inhuman deity like the ‘Observer’ should maintain a basic level of vigilance toward these aliens,” Allen shrugged, explaining his view frankly. “According to the Holy Scripture, humans are the Lord’s chosen people, and everything in the world is a gift He gave to us. Therefore, we naturally have a tendency toward human-supremacism.
“Besides, I really don’t have a good impression of these aliens.” He looked at Livia, a cold light of rationality flashing in his golden eyes.
“If the so-called Elves truly exist, they have shared this planet with humans for 10,000 years yet always remained in the shadows. Who knows if these guys have also committed crimes against humanity?”
Livia didn’t seem to agree with this absolute way of thinking.
“Perhaps they just prefer this lifestyle of being at peace with the world. Maybe that’s why the ‘Observers’ let them go.”
“Too naive, Livia.” Allen shook his head. “Those not of our kind are sure to have different hearts. Humans even kill each other as the same race; other races are even less trustworthy. They most likely mastered some method to escape the ‘Observer’s’ gaze, but they didn’t share this technology with the humans struggling in misery. From that point alone, they are destined to be enemies of humanity.
“Livia, if they were truly friendly, why would they watch another intelligent race suffer in despair for 10,000 years?”
Livia couldn’t refute him, so she could only change the subject. “…It’s just a story.”
“No…” Allen’s expression was calm, yet he made a prophecy as if he saw a distant future. “This is foreshadowing. Nothing is imagined out of thin air. I believe Albion existed, and Elves are by no means a fabrication.
“Because so far, in this world, only this book has recorded this race. Besides this, the concept of ‘Elves’ doesn’t exist in any folklore. That’s very unusual.”
Livia had never seen an Elf in her reincarnation memories, and she didn’t want to argue with Allen about this ethereal topic any longer.
She lowered her head, her gaze falling on her oversized pajamas, then looked at Allen and asked softly, “Did you… help me change?”
Allen immediately rolled his eyes at her. “What are you thinking? I’m a gentleman. Marianne changed your clothes. As for why you’re wearing mine, that was also her doing.”
However, thinking of Marianne’s mischievous nature, Allen worried she might be trying to ruin his yuri garden plans, so he quickly defended her.
“She probably thought that since you’re my fiancée, wearing my clothes would make you feel more at ease and help bring us closer together.”
“Fiancée?”
Livia looked at Allen in confusion.
She had personally handed over the Letter of Challenge at the engagement ceremony; the marriage contract should have been canceled.
Allen patiently explained what happened after she fainted — from the Count of the Borderlands aggressively showing up at the door, to how he “persuaded” him, and finally how the two families reached a compromise, allowing her to stay at the Laval House to recover as his fiancée.
Livia fell silent.
She understood that Allen had given her a legitimate reason to stay, despite the pressure from the Stern House, just to protect her.
At least she didn’t have to return to that home that made her feel suffocated.
She remembered the farewell letter she had written to her father and that magnificent but cold cage.
Her heart was filled with mixed emotions. Staying at the Laval House, she had Marianne… and even Allen.
“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with sincere gratitude.
Seeing Livia’s cool yet somewhat fragile appearance, Allen teased, “You can go back whenever you want.”
“No… I don’t want to go back,” Livia shook her head.
Allen looked at her, wanting to say something like ‘I’m just a bug in the yuri garden between you and Marianne, I’ll stay out of your way,’ but seeing Livia’s inexplicably sad face, he decided not to be so socially oblivious.
“It’s fine. We’ve been killing each other for so long; we have a good understanding of each other.” Allen’s tone softened. “Livia, don’t overthink it. The title of fiancée isn’t important. Just stay here in peace and be with Marianne.”
“Perhaps we should think about it more.” Livia looked up, her expression complex.
“His Majesty gave me two documents back then. One was the Formal Duel Permit, and the other… was a marriage certificate bestowed by the King. Since the Laval House has publicly declared that the engagement is still valid, His Majesty… will surely offer his blessings for our marriage.”
Allen’s smile froze instantly, his scalp tingling.
He knew that old fox Louis XI would definitely do such a thing.
The Count of the Borderlands was his man, and now Allen’s father, Bernard, was also his man.
He was trying to tie the two biggest “unstable factors,” Allen and Livia, firmly to the royal chariot through marriage.
Seeing Allen’s expression as if he’d been struck by lightning, a very faint smile — one even she hadn’t noticed — flashed in Livia’s clear blue eyes.
She turned her head slightly, avoiding Allen’s stunned gaze, and spoke in a calm, matter-of-fact tone, yet soft and incredibly clear:
“So, please look after me, my dear… fiancé.”