[Lavinia’s POV — Black Wall Fortress—Continuation]
Osric didn’t move.
Not when I turned my back. Not when I told him to rest. Not even when the room exhaled with the weight of everything unsaid.
His voice followed —low, tight, cracking at the edges. "Lavi... I don’t trust him near you."
I froze mid-step.
For a mont, neither of us breathed. The faint candle on the war table flickered as if caught between us—caught between flas.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Osric... go rest."
He didn’t.
Instead, he stepped toward . Slow. Controlled. But his eyes—sharp and stormy—were anything but calm.
"Why won’t you take this seriously?" he asked, jaw clenched.
"Because," I said evenly, "this is not the ti for your jealousy."
His breath hitched—like I had slapped him.
"...Jealousy?" he whispered.
I turned to face him fully. "Yes. That."
His lips parted, but no sound ca out. For once, the smooth, confident Grand Duke had no imdiate words.
He swallowed hard. "Lavi... I’m not—"
"You admitted you want to kill him," I cut in, voice slicing cleanly. "For what? For standing too close? For breathing the sa air as ?"
His fists tightened. "Because he—he gets too close. He forgets his place."
"And what place is that?" I asked quietly.
Osric’s eyes darkened. "Not at your side."
The room went still. Even the candle stopped flickering, as if the fla itself was afraid of what would co next. A hot, pulsing anger curled beneath my ribs—sharp, cold, and dangerous.
"And what makes you think you get to decide who stands beside ?" My voice was low. Deadly.
Osric swallowed, but his voice trembled with sothing fierce and desperate.
"Because I love you."
A cruel, humorless smile tugged at my lips.
"I love you too," I said evenly, "but I never gave you the right to decide who can stay beside and who doesn’t."
His jaw clenched. His fists curled.
"So... mind your position, Grand Duke Osric."
The title hit him like a slap. He inhaled sharply, and his anger sparked—ugly, ssy, nothing like my refined fury.
"Advising a crown princess, I never knew, was a cri, your highness, and Do not forget," he snapped quietly, "you were jealous too. You almost killed soone for getting too close to ."
My blood froze.
Not because he was wrong. But because he dared to bring that up. The mory flashed— Him kneeling before another woman. My sword at another woman’s throat. His eyes were on anyone but .
A fla licked up my spine.
"So," I whispered, each word soaked in venom, "for you... I was the wrong one?"
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Then—
"NO. Your Highness, You weren’t the wrong one. But....Taking decisions recklessly and aiming a sword at an innocent—"
"UTTER ANOTHER WORD, GRAND DUKE—"
My voice cracked like a whip.
Osric flinched. The air thickened. Even Marshi and Solena tensed behind .
"—AND I WON’T HESITATE TO SLASH THAT THROAT OF YOURS, GRAND DUKE OSRIC."
The title again. Sharp. Deliberate.
He straightened, pride wounded, but his eyes—His eyes stayed on mine, cold and arrogant.
"As if you’re not being unreasonable," he hissed. "There is—there has always been—a difference between Sir Haldor and Eleania. He is a man. A man, your highness. He stays too close to you and forgive but....he is being too close to you. So, for there is no difference between Eleania and—"
"Don’t you dare finish that sentence."
He froze.
I stepped forward, voice rising—not loud, not hysterical— But tyrant-cold, imperial, and absolute.
"Sir Haldor is my captain. My soldier. A man who earned his position with blood and loyalty.Not a ’re’ anything."
My glare sharpened, cruel and rciless.
"And I will never tolerate the insult of my people, Osric. Not from people working for .Not from those arrogant nobles. And not even from the man who claims to love . He fights for ."
His breath caught.
"So I can’t say anything?" he argued, voice cracking with frustration. "Am I not working hard for you? Am I not fighting beside you every day?"
"You are," I said calmly. "You are working hard for , Grand Duke Osric. I appreciate that."
The calmness cut deeper than any blade.
"But ever since the day you beca Grand Duke..." I tilted my head, studying him like a specin. "... I don’t know where you found this confidence that you have the right to command the Crown Princess of the Empire."
His face fell.
"Lavi—"
"CALL YOUR HIGHNESS. I never gave you such rights during working hours. A harsh silence snapped between us. "So learn your place. My life doesn’t just revolve around you, Osric. You are just a part of my life. Not my whole life, know the difference. "
Those words—He staggered like I had physically struck him.
His jaw trembled. His voice broke on the edges.
"...Lavinia. Is this really You?"
"Yes."
Ice. Pure ice.
He stared at —hurt, furious, and unable to breathe.
And I realized sothing, sharp and sudden: This wasn’t Osric, the man who I love. This wasn’t the boy who swore to protect . This wasn’t the man I once trusted without thinking.
This was a Grand Duke blinded by old guilt. Blinded by overpossessiveness. Blinded by a love that didn’t see —Only his fear of losing again.
And I...I was done.
Completely.
Osric’s breath shuddered. His voice ca out low, rough, trembling with sothing raw. "You’re speaking as if... you want to end this relationship of ours."
. . .
. . .
I held his gaze, steady, cold, sovereign. "I think... it’s not a bad idea, Grand Duke."
His eyes widened—sothing inside them cracking, violently. "Lavi—"
I stepped closer. Not in comfort. But to make sure he heard every word with full clarity.
"Let’s take a break until the war ends." My voice was flat. Controlled. Dead calm. "Because I cannot handle your tantrums and a war at the sa ti."
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Osric’s jaw clenched so hard the muscles trembled. His fists curled until his knuckles turned white.
Then—With a voice that was barely more than a broken whisper:
"Just say you want to end it." His throat bobbed. "Why call it a break? Why pretend?" A bitter laugh escaped him, hollow and painful.
"Let’s Just end this relationship, Your Highness."
My heart stuttered—but I didn’t show it. Not now. Not when he cornered , pushed , and assud rights he never had.
I stared at him. Then slowly—I looked away.
"...Think whatever you want, Grand Duke." My voice was cool as winter steel. "Now... Just get out and leave alone."
The words struck him harder than any blade.
Osric didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t blink. He stood there—like a man watching an entire future collapse in front of him.
Then, in a voice that was quiet enough to break soone weaker:
"I will follow whatever you command." He swallowed hard. "Let’s end everything here... and focus only on the war."
My chest tightened—but my face stayed blank. "Glad to hear that."
He nodded once.
A stiff, formal, emotionless bow. Like I was a stranger. Like he was nothing but a soldier taking orders.
Then—Without another word—He turned and walked out of the war chamber.
The door closed behind him. And the silence that remained...
Was not relief.
It was the hollow, aching, tallic quiet that follows after a blade has already cut deep—but the blood hasn’t begun to fall yet. when the body is still in shock, pretending it can still move normally.
I stayed standing for two long breaths.
Then— My knees gave way to exhaustion, and I slumped onto the chair. A harsh exhale ripped out of , shaky and unstable. I pressed both palms to my eyes, dragging them across my face until everything blurred.
"I guess... now I understand why Papa hated love."
My voice cracked on the last word.
Why he banned it. Why he warned . Why he said it ruins everything it touches.
I let my head fall back against the chair, staring blankly at the dark ceiling, the flickering candles, and the war maps strewn across my desk like mockery.
My chest felt tight. Too tight. Like soone had reached inside and squeezed my ribs together.
"Love makes fools out of people." The bitterness was a whisper. "Turns strength into weakness. Turns trust into a weapon."
I laughed—short, humorless, and painful.
"...And what’s the difference?"
My eyes burned.
Between this Osric and the Osric from my last life? Was there even a difference?
He said he’d protect back then, yet he chose soone else over .
This Osric...In this life...Loved .
But it wasn’t love for .
It was love for a mory. A ghost. A past mistake he was desperate to rewrite.
And I finally realized: I wasn’t living beside a partner. I was living beside a man haunted by a version of that died in the last life.
No matter what I did, no matter how strong I beca, no matter how much I loved him—He still didn’t see this . The future .
The woman I’ve beco.
Only the girl he once failed.
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