Chapter 64 Part 1

9 months pregnant.

“You are actually going to go?” Rodale looks up from his book to see Orin standing before him.

The crown prince does not bother to ask his younger twin brother to elaborate. He simply returns his attention back to his book and silently flips to the next page.

Around them, the other guest of the Valentine household enjoys the cloudless day in the gardens, mingling with each other.

“You could have just declined,” Orin continues above him.

“How could I have possibly done that?” Rodale asks. His eyes flicker up briefly to level a look at his brother.

He was in no position to make any sort of demands. He also held no backing to endure the fallout for insulting the Valentine Head by continuing to neglect Livia.

“It’s a rather simple matter. All it would have taken was a single word that starts with an N,” Orin states snidely.

“To what end?” Rodale asks, the words drawn out and tired.

“You do not wish to go,” Orin states it as fact.

“That has nothing to do with anything,” Rodale replies.

It never has. What he likes and dislikes is not even worth a second thought. All that matters is what was best for the Kingdom of Wisteria as a whole.

“...” Ocean blue eyes drill a hole into his bowed head.

“Have you given up?” Orin asks, after a while. His tone was carefully neutral, bland, almost. It held a silent challenge that was borderline a threat.

Rodale flips another page. His eyes do not waver from his book again.

“On what, exactly?” He says, his tone now matching his brothers.

“...I suppose not, then,” Orin smiles. Then with that, he simply walks away without another word, his strides long and filled with energy.

Only when his brother is long gone and the bubble of quiet settles over him once more does Rodale look in the direction the third prince had left in with an unreadable expression.

It seems his brother has become restless as of late.

His actions in the past few days have increasingly become daring and unlike his usual self. Despite the words whispered behind his back, the second prince has not kept his distance from Amelia. If anything, he has stepped closer.

Now that they were both outside the confining walls of Aster Academy and the king has decided to loosen their reigns as it would be discourteous to impose onto the Valentine household any more than he already was, Orin was taking full advantage.

Rodale's eyes narrow.

His younger brother has not been able to move freely since the stunt they had pulled months ago. There had been no time for him to scheme in the shadows even as the investigation into the matter of Livia’s kidnapping marched on.

At least, not until now.

Surely, Orin would not be so foolish as to make the same devastating mistake twice?

Rodale could not be sure. He had promised his brother that he would not confess to their sins and wait, but, if Orin made another move, he would not sit by and fall along with him.

---

 

9 months, 1 day pregnant.

“I’m as fat as a whale,” Livia says while staring at her reflection in the mirror.

She makes a face and plucks at the tight black fabric stretched tightly around her protruding stomach. She could no longer fit comfortably in any of her dresses and her stomach was constantly itchy. Every time she walked around, she always bumped into something.

She was almost at the finish line and it showed.

Behind her, Amaya adjusts the sheer sleeves of her simple black dress and hums, “Well, I doubt you can get any bigger.”

“You just jinxed it,” Livia complains and glares over her shoulder.

Amaya only snickers and steps away, admiring her work from a distance as she nods to herself, “Well, fat or not, you are still pretty hot,” she says and grins.

Livia plays with the long cascading waterfall of purple over her left shoulder, turning back to the mirror. She blinks her fawn eyelashes and puckers her plump lips painted in faint cherry before pouting.

“Damn it, you aren’t wrong,” She admits, with great reluctance.

Growing up with this type of face has made her immune. But, looking at it objectively, she could see how someone might find it attractive.

She was young and her face was nearly spotless except for the beauty mark in the corner of her left eye. Her paleness wasn’t anything she ever found all that pretty. Not when it made her look more like an undead corpse than a living being, but in such a high society, it was greedily sought after.

With her highbrow, upturned nose, shapely cheekbones, and almond-shaped eyes, anyone could see from a glance that she was the progeny of well-bred genes.

With her vibrantly deep purple hair falling around her face in stark contrast with her skin and her keen, grape eyes...

Certainly, she could even be seen as beautiful.

But it was one thing to see it from the outside and another to feel it inwardly.

The last time she could recall ever feeling genuinely attractive was right after she had turned sixteen, during her debutant. Moving past that, in the Eastern Empire, her beauty had only served to damn her. Livia had only seen it as a tool when she had nothing else to use.

“You are pretty hot too,” Livia says casually, shutting down her own thoughts.

Amaya blinks at her, “I know,” she says, after a while, smirking faintly. The maid in disguise even makes a show of fixing her own painted lips and fluttering her eyes at herself in the mirror, clearly preening.

Livia just chuckles at her antics, rolling her eyes.

There is a knock at the door and s second later Beth peeks her head in, “Oh! I guess you are finished getting ready?”

“Sadly,” Livia says, moving away from the mirror and fiddling with the large memory orb hanging around her neck via a plain black choker. It was the original. The one that contained the damning evidence of Orin and Rodale along with many other tidbits that drew an outline of a picture.

She thought it would make a great charm of sorts.

“Well, don’t you look lovely!” Beth says, closing the door behind her and stepping further into the room.

“I’m not sure I am happy to hear it,” Livia sighs.

“Why?” Beth says, her smile dimming a bit.

“Isn't it obvious?” Amaya crosses her legs on the bed, a bored look on her face, “Who would want to look good for a bastard like Rodale? It is such a waste.”

“Oh, well...” Beth couldn’t deny it.

Livia shakes her head, “Not only that, I find it fucking annoying that I even have to put in even a minuscule amount of effort for him,” she says, and closes her eyes as her hands fall to the swell of her belly. Her lips press into a thin line.

“Another false labor?” Amaya asks, “You are getting them pretty often these days.”

“Maybe once or twice a day,” Livia corrects, her eyebrow crinkling.

“Here, try walking around the room for a bit,” Beth says, holding her elbow gently to guide her forward, “When you change position, they usually can drop off or ease up.”

The Valentine heiress says nothing but does follow the midwife's advice.

After a while, the pressure at the front of her stomach lessens. Like a clenched hand unfurling.

She lets out a breath and stills. Looking down at her stomach, her view was completely dominated by it. Just when she had thought her son could grow no more, that she had no more room to give, he proved had proved her wrong. It almost looks like she has swallowed two watermelons whole.

Livia pats idly at the place she knew her son was slumbering, her gaze becoming distant.

It wouldn’t be long now.

Soon, she would get to meet the small being that had been growing inside her belly for the past nine months.

Livia was excited, nervous, scared, and elated all at once.

Just how would her son look like?

Would he have her eyes? Elias's hair? Her ears? Elias's nose?

She wanted to see just what the two of them ended up creating. She wanted to see who this tiny being inside of her ended up being.

Livia couldn’t wait, but at the same time, the idea of giving birth in this world terrified her to her core.

There will be no hospitals with state-of-the-art equipment. No drugs to help her with the pain and no doctors or nurses who could react expertly in any emergency situation that might crop up.

She only had Beth, the only person she trusted to deliver her son safely, and Amaya, the only person she trusted to assist the midwife in any way she could.

It was terrifying.

Not once did she ever think that she would be forced to give birth naturally.

Wasn’t labor pain the worse things anyone can endure outside of a stomach injury?

She shivers.

“Lady Livia?” Beth asks.

“It will hurt, won’t it?” Livia says quietly.

Amaya yawns, “What will?”

“The labor,” Beth answers with a sympathetic face.

Amaya cringes, “Oh, fuck.”

Livia just sighs and shakes her head. Stupid. What was the point in thinking and lamenting about it now? It was a little too late for that, wasn’t it?

“Never mind,” she says to Beth and steps away.

There is a knock at her door.

“What is it, Brenda?” Livia calls out, carefully fixing her tone and face so it was back to her default resting bitch one.

“Uh-...Duke Valentine is here to escort you to the garden,” The maid says.

Livia's lips curl in disgust.

“Fine.”

The sooner she got the mandatory meetings over with, the better, but she was not looking forward to the trek back to the main Valentine Estate. She had barely been standing on her feet for the past thirty minutes and she already wanted to curl up in bed and sleep the rest of the night away.

---

 

“I will only warn you once,” Her father does not look back at her when he speaks, “I will not tolerate hearing word of you speaking like the low-born folk on the outskirts of this kingdom.”

Livia glares at his back.

Why was he talking?

She did not wish to hear his voice. Especially if he could not even bother to acknowledge her while he did so.

Behind them, the dimly lit north wing was being quickly swallowed up by the night as they walked on the overgrown, stone path that led back to the main estate.

“You are the heiress of this household,” Her father continues on, his tone like cracked ice, “And you will act in a manner befitting your upbring,” His head turns. A single purple eye land on her over his shoulder, “Have I made myself clear?”

“Yes, father,” The words are like hot coal and burns her tongue.

Livia does not wish to speak them.

She wished she could spit and curse him until she is blue in the face because it was plain laughable. To think that he actually cares at all about her actions. Where was this stern figure at when she was running wild in the academy, causing all manners of problems? Where was her father when she had been condemned by the very prince she was currently forced to meet?

But now he wishes to scold her.

Silently, Livia bites her lip to prevent a scoff from leaving it.

Her father's expression clearly indicates he would not settle for anything less than obedience and insulting him while he was in such a mood would be like shooting herself in the foot.

She still needed him after all. The shelter and security he provided were detrimental to her birthing her son safely. If Livia goes lashing out impulsively now, then what would have been the point in retreating and keeping a low profile all these months?

So, she keeps her mouth shut and lowers her gaze, feigning submissiveness.

Clearly approving of her reaction, the duke turns back around.

They continue the trek in silence.

---

 

Later that Night

“Would you like more wine, your highness?” The butler asks in the stifling silence, his gaze nervously darting between the two occupants of the table before settling on the crown prince.

Rodale lifts up his hand, “No thank you.”

The butler nods and bows before he beats a hasty retreat a safe distance away.

The silence returns.

Livia pushes along the food on her plate, noting vaguely the stupidly small proportions and the fact it had a minuscule amount of meat that was practically drowning in a forest of lettuce and spinach. It was a good thing she had enough sense to nibble on something before she came.

Her mother's obvious influence over the menu was obnoxious.

She would be more irritated if she had more of an appetite, but lately, it was becoming a chore to eat regularly. Beth had to practically hand feed her breakfast and lunch today.

“Are you not hungry?” Rodale asks.

Livia fork scrapes along the porcelain plate in reply, her mouth sealed shut, causing a shrill deafening screech to rise up between them.

Rodale’s hand tightens around his steak knife at the sound.

Livia wanted to snatch it from his hand and plant it into his beating heart.

Maybe that would calm the waves raging inside of her.

Had it been an hour yet?

It feels like time itself was going against her.

“If you wish, we can skip dinner and take a walk in the gardens instead,” Rodale offers.

Livia stares down at her wine glass. It was full of deep blue. The color was pretty, and she was even a little curious about its taste. But really, what draws her interest is the fact they had served it to her.

Beth knew that drinking alcohol was not good for the baby.

So, how come the servants who served her did not?

More importantly, does this imply her mother had drunk while she had been pregnant with Livia?

It certainly seemed like a possibility.

She was grasping at straw at this point but keeping her mind occupied on nonsensical things was helping in keeping her composure in check.

“Lady Livia,” Rodale calls, his voice low. It could even be called patient if you didn’t know what to listen for.

She ignores him and glances over at her father and freaking Fin, standing a few feet away.

That had been an unpleasant surprise.

Livia hadn’t even noticed him when everyone else had arrived. She had been so distracted with the other targets; he must have somehow flown right under the radar.

How strange it was that he was standing so casually by as if he wasn’t the former Crown Prince of Wisteria and the first-born son of King Grail. Even more bizarre was the fact that his long hair and elf ear somehow acted like simple pair of glasses in those superhero shows. As if he didn’t share any other obvious traits with his siblings and father, and of course, somehow, it worked.

Her own father had barely spared the newly appointed instructor a second glance.

Even Rodale, his fucking brother didn’t seem to give him another thought.

It was madness.

Fin turns away from talking to her father and suddenly meets her stare head-on.

Livia blinks slowly, raising a cool eyebrow.

Fin never wavering smile widens.

He winks at her.

She flinches, her lips curling up.

Fin only seems to find this reaction amusing.

Livia huffs and turns away, avoiding Rodale's piercing stare to resume pushing around the cold food on her table.

Her magic was gone, but he should still have no memories of her. Magic of the mind was not an easy thing to untangle. If anything, Fin’s friendly disposition was just his stupid character trait.

“Lady Livia,” Rodale tries again. He sets down his knife and fork and reaches out across the table.

Livia shoves back against her chair, pushing from the table, and clumsily gets to her feet with a broad declaration of, “I have to pee.”

It wasn’t a lie.

It was also her fifth time stating so in less than an hour. The wonderous perks of being over nine months pregnant.

Amaya teleports to her side on cue, helping her stand and guiding her away before anyone could blink.

As they pass her father, Duke Valentine suddenly glances down at his watch.

“It has been an hour,” He states.

Livia lets out a breath.

Finally.

The dinner in the garden with Crown Prince Rodale ends just like that.

Livia uses the restroom and heads straight back to the north wing without telling the crown prince a thing. She does bother to send her father notice of her leaving. To let him be the one to tell Rodale that she had retired for the night.

---

 

9 months, 3 days Pregnant.

“Father, please,” Liliana begs while staring up with truly pitiful eyes.

“No,” Duke Valentine says anyway, not looking up from his paperwork.

“Please, father. Please, just let me visit Livia for an hour, or maybe two!” Liliana continues to beg, stepping closer and pouting with all her might.

“Your sister needs to be left alone at this time. It is the way of the land,” Duke Valentine states.

“B-but she needs support! And help! And I miss her. Surely you can make an exception? Just this once?” Liliana pleads.

“You can support your sister from a distance,” Duke Valentine looks up, his gaze keen, “The letters you two exchange will just have to be enough for now.”

“It isn’t!” Liliana says, her voice rising. Her hands clench into fists at her side as she drops her gaze and bites into her lip.

“...I’m sorry, Liliana. The answer is still no.”

“Ugh,” Liliana turns on her heel and storms out the room angrily, slamming the door shut on her way out.

She didn’t understand why her father was so insistent on keeping them apart! What was the point!? Couldn’t he see that Livia needed her more than ever? It was ridiculous! She could not help her sister from a distance.

Liliana had no other option. If she could not visit her sister in plain daylight, she must find another way. She just needed to get into contact with Amaya, Beth, or even Sen.

---

 

9 months, 6 days pregnant.

“How goes the courtship?” Lady Giselle asks after dabbing at her mouth.

The private dinner has just been concluded. Plates were being whisked away and red wine was now being served.

“Yes, sister, how was the picnic this afternoon?” Lady Greta asks, her gaze cold, “Is it true that my dear niece went the whole meeting mute as she did the previous one? I have been told not a single word was exchanged between the couple to be.”

Lynette glares down at the red liquid in her glass before lifting it up and swallowing it down.

“My, you guzzle away like a starved fiend,” Lady Greta says snidely, twirling her own glass elegantly, “Are you that eager to drown your failures?”

“It is not a failure!” Lynette snaps instantly.

“Hmph,” Lady Greta raises her chin, her pale eyes like glaciers, “I think you have forgotten that mother and I have working ears and eyes. We can see and hear for ourselves just fine. This whole endeavor was a waste of time. To think that spoiled brat would be so foolish as to ruin the opportunity we basically handed to her!”

“Damn Luvien. How dare he leave me out,” Lynette snarls to herself, ignoring her sister completely with practice ease.

Lady Giselle sits down her glass of wine, a small, stout finger traces over the smooth rim with a pale gaze likened to a stone wall. Her daughters fall quiet.

“That man...” The older countess says slowly, “He is planning something.”

Her eyes lift and like finely placed needles, they pin her youngest daughter to the chair.

“Find out,” She orders, “I wished to know what he intends to do by the end of this day. We must counteract before he does irreversible damage.”

Lynette lowers her head, “Of course mother.”

The words come easily, but the task was one of great difficulty. Luvien was as paranoid as they come and those who worked for him were not easily bribed or swayed. Faintly, she wonders why her mother did not use her own means to get such information. She was certainly capable, but Lynette did not dare to question her.

With the new promise hanging around her neck, she stands up and waits to be dismissed. Quickly, she leaves the room behind without looking back.

Back in the dining room, Lady Greta watches the cowardly retreat of the duchess with a sneering mouth. But, by the time she casts her pale grey eyes on her mother, her mouth is neutrally pursed.

“Mother, the Fall Courtship is almost at its end,” She starts, “I still do not think it was worth using up so many of our ties to have Lynette host it here,” She shakes her head and frowns severely, “In the end, Lord Luvien has refused to let us anywhere near the girl and all but dragged her away to be locked up in the north wing while the main events had taken place. By all accounts, he is well within his rights to do so as it is tradition to retreat before giving birth, but the timing is rather suspicious.”

Lady Giselle says nothing.

“For some reason, he seems determined to keep the girl away from his highness, even going so far as to restrict how long they can be together as if such a thing is appropriate,” Lady Greta scowls, “I cannot even begin to guess what that man is thinking. It is as if he has gone completely blind and refuse to see the path before him.”

“Or he has carved out a new one for himself,” Lady Giselle utters.

Her daughter falls silent.

“Will all our efforts be for nothing in the end?” Lady Greta says after a pause, her mouth pressed into a thin, angry line.

Lady Giselle's face softens like carved marble, “Of course not, dear. From the beginning, The Fall Festival was just the first step. Lord Luviens interference does not change the end goal.”

“Right, of course,” Lady Greta says readily, and then blinks slowly, her mouth open, “But mother, how exactly do you intend to make use of the girl? I don’t understand how she could have any value to us.”

Lady Giselle lifts up her wine glass and takes a small, savoring sip of the blood-red liquid. When she pulls it away, a small drop of red sits in the wrinkled corner of her lips. She wipes it away with a small swipe of her finger, but it smears her lipstick a bit.

Then she smiles, and it looks as if she just feasted on raw meat.

“My dear, all that matters is that I do. You are just to do as you are told,” The countess intones.

Lady Greta's eyes lower to her lap, a cold dread curling up her back as she says, “Yes mother.”

---

 

9 months, 1 week, 1 day.

“Have you seen her lately?”

Kolton looks up in confusion from his book in the east wing library, “Who?”

An arm reaches across the table to push at his shoulder roughly, “What do you mean who. Lady Livia. Who else would I be talking about?”

“Oh,” Kolton says, slapping away the hand on his shoulder and returning to his book, “Yeah, a few times. What about her?”

“So...?”

Kolton sighs, “So, what?”

“So, is she still fat with a bastard? From what I could tell, she looked about ready to drop her load at any second.”

Kolton closes his book and gets to his feet.

“Where are you going? Miss Amelia isn’t back yet.”

He doesn’t care. He ignores his friend calling out his name and leaves the library entirely.

The school break was drawing to a quick, uneventful end.

The Fall Courtship will also be concluded soon.

He should have just stayed back in Aster Academy. There wasn’t much to do here at the Valentine estate but tour the property, admire the garden and socialize. Kolton doesn’t even know why he decided to attend this stupid event in the first place, especially with so many of his classmates hovering around. It was as if he had never left the academy.

What a waste of a vacation.

A flash of purple and pink in his mind nearly causing him to stumble. His face flushes.

The hell was he just thinking just now?

“Oh my, isn’t that her?”

“Which one?”

“The one with the purple hair.”

“No way! That is Lady Livia?”

“Wow, she looks...”

“Portly?”

Snickers.

Kolton looks up and glares at the group of girls standing by the window. His pace slows, his steps quieting as he goes unnoticed. They continue to gossip amongst themselves, peering out.

“What is she even doing outside? Hadn’t she been banished from the estate after her interaction with Princess Adanna?”

“Didn’t you hear? The gala was also postponed because of her.”

“Poor Crown Prince Rodale. To think he has to endure her presence to keep up appearances.”

“Well, none of this would have happened if he hadn’t exiled Lady Livia.”

“How could you say that? It was clearly a mistake!”

“Why are you defending him? He doesn’t even know you exist!”

“She is right. The crown prince had clearly been the one at fault.”

Kolton raises an eyebrow, surprised in the direction the conversation has gone.

“But...!”

“What if it had been you?”

“...!”

“It’s not right. The crown prince should not have so much power over another noble.”

“All it took was a single word.”

“But even so, he doesn’t deserve to be insulted by having to cater to a woman who is clearly unfit for him!”

“...I suppose that is true.”

Kolton resumes his stroll forward as the group of girls fall silent, staring at each other. His presence is soon noticed, but he ignores the silent gasps of his names. He steps closer to the window near him, looking out.

It was Lady Livia.

As well as Rodale.

He watches, in startlement, as she suddenly stanches her hand away from the crown prince. Then she turns around to stalk past like a blur and leaves his line of sight in a matter of seconds. A moment later, Rodale appears to come out of his shock and follow after her.

Kolton frowns.

What was going on?

---

 

“Woah there!”

Hands come up to grab onto Livia's shoulder when she turns sharply around the corner, preventing her from colliding into a body.

Hastily, she steps back until the physical contact ends.

Upon looking up, she instantly bites off a curse.

Orange hair, light brown eyes, pretty face, broad shoulders, and a hanging silver earring on one ear. Fucking hell. She had run straight into a target! She could practically see the greyed-out profile picture light up eagerly.

“Oh, you’re...” The target starts to say, his eyes widening slightly.

“Livia!” Rodale voice calls out causing her to scowl. Without letting herself give it a second thought, she ducks behind the towering body before her, hiding from view.

“What are you...?”

“Hide me!” Livia hisses and attempts to duck down further while shooting a glance behind herself. Good. No one else was here.

“Lady Livia!” Rodale turns the corner and stops short, “Juri.”

“Prince Rodale,” The target greets, inclining his head.

“Did you see Lady Livia pass through here?” Livia hears the crown prince asks.

“Lady Livia?” The target repeats slowly, “No, I have not. Why? Is something the matter? Do you need help searching for her?” The target offers his help readily. As easily as he pretends that the very woman, he speaks of isn’t right behind him.

“No,” Rodale replies shortly and leaves the way he had come.

“He is gone.”

Livia steps away from the target and turns on her heel without saying another word. She intends to head back to the north wing or just walk around until she runs into Amaya and the royal guards she had left behind.

“You are just going to leave without saying anything?” A hand falls onto her wrist.

She slaps it away on instinct and turns back, “Oh, right. Thanks,” she says dully.

“...You are welcome.”

Livia turns around. The hand is back. Before she can slap it away again, her other wrist is captured.

“Remove your-” Livia beings to yank her hands back, a dark expression falling over her face.

“Shh!” The target says, his head turned and his face closed off.

Suddenly he steps past her and pulls her along.

Not expecting the sudden change in direction, she stumbles and blindly follows him for a few seconds, blinking stupidly (The fuck did he think he was doing with a pregnant woman?), before the voices reach her.

“Find her this instant,” One barks.

“She couldn’t have gone far,” Another mutters.

Two soldiers of the royal guard run past just right after they had stepped into a conveniently narrow alley shrouded in darkness.

Well. That just happened.

Livia's mind finally catches up to the situation.

She stares up at the target she is uncomfortably squished together with and frowns.

“I did not wish to avoid the guards. Only Rodale,” She informs him, a bit belatedly.

“Oh. Is that so?” The target did not seem to really care.

Then why even attempt to help her at all?

Whatever.

It was done and over with.

Livia was not about to give it any more energy.

None too gently, she yanks her captured wrists away from target number twelve and leaves the small alley. It would not be long before Amaya and the royal guards caught up to her. She wondered if her father and Fin have realized that they were no longer in the garden.

If not, they will be informed soon.

She did not give a damn that it had only been thirty minutes and that technically, there was still a half-hour left to go. Livia would not be going back.

Her father would not be pleased.

Oh well.

She shrugs mentally and heads in the direction of the north wing.

“Where are you going, Lady Livia?” Target number twelve easily catches up with her in two long strides. His light brown eyes cast her way. Pointedly, almost respectfully, they do not look past her neck and down at her stomach.

Livia stops.

Target twelve stops.

“What do you want?” She asks bluntly.

“To know where you are going,” The reply is spoken slowly. As if she hadn’t understood his first question.

Hmm. Had he always been such a scornful prick?

Of course not.

Livia stares blandly up into light brown eyes, noting how distant and cold they were. It was almost interesting to see. After all, she has never seen such an expression before on his face. He wasn’t the happy-go-lucky type, but he always had a small pleased smile on his face. Confident.

Target twelve...what did she know about him?

He was the son of a general and of noble birth. His family also had blood ties to the house of Silvan but was not all that close to Rodale, Orin, or Kolton. Currently, he was training to become a knight. Upon graduation from the academy, he joins the army on his own merits. He was also equally capable in combat and magic.

Livia had only conquered him once in her first life. She recalls that his route had been neither boring nor too interesting. The wedding dress Amelia had worn when she had married target twelve had been particularly pretty.

That was it-

Oh, right.

His name.

Juri Tristen Axelsen

It was a mouthful.

…

That what she sa-

Nope.

Stop it.

Reigning in her thirteen-year-old mental self, Livia wonders how long have they been standing here just staring at each other?

She blinks. Her eyes felt a bit dry. She does it again. Better.

“I should escort you back, Lady Livia,” Target twelve says when all she does is stare blankly at him. Some of his flinty mask breaks off. His light brown eyes stare over her shoulder now as he scratches a bit at his chin.

“Nah, I’m good,” The words are a lazy drawl and lack any sort of elegance. Livia lifts up a hand, declining the offer visually as well.

Target twelve seems a bit surprised.

That is all she registers as she is already turning away and heading back in the direction in which she had come. The moment she turns a corner, she nearly runs into Kolton.

Without sparing him a glance, she steps around him and continues on.

Eventually, Livia finds Amaya and some of the royal guards. Together, they all head back to the north wing. At the same time, Livia mentally balls up the useless memory of the past hour of her life and throws it into a dumpster bin. Instantly, her shoulders relax and the anger she had been holding onto drop into a low, manageable simmer.

---

 

9 months, 1 week, 4 days pregnant.

“Lady Livia, the lord, and lady summons you to the sitting room,” Brenda announces through the door the next morning.

Livia pushes away her nearly full breakfast tray and shuffles on the bed until her feet touch the floor. It was Sen who helps her to her feet this time, being the one who happen to be closest.

“Oh no, what am I going to do?” Liliana sits on the floor like a picture caught on camera. Only her eyes move as Noctis play with her snowy hair on her lap.

For the past few days, her sister has been sneaking into the north wing under the guise of a maid with mousey brown hair and dull blue eyes.

Amaya was quite skilled when it comes to casting spells of illusions, but of course, it wasn’t even a candle to Sen’s own natural-born skill of shifting. In his case, it was not a simple trick of the light.

“It’s fine, chill,” Amaya says and snaps her fingers. The illusion falls over Liliana once more.

Beth just shakes her head, “You should be more careful with using magic Miss Amaya. If the royal guards were to catch you...”

“They won’t,” The maid in disguise promises with a smirk.

“But what could father and Lynette want?” Liliana asks as she stands up with Noctis in her arms. She stares in trepidation at the door, “I doubt it could be anything good.”

“It will not be,” Livia agrees and drags a hand down her face. Her eyes were dry and she could feel the weight of the dark bags hanging under them.

Sleeping for more than an hour at a time was a luxury she had taken for granted.

Insomnia was her new, extremely unwanted friend.

She wishes she could climb back in bed, but she knew, even if she did, she would be wide awake, tossing and turning as every ache in her body tried to scream over each other.

“Lady Livia?” Brenda calls in the hall. She knew better than to knock again or to wait to be let in.

Maybe it was a bit unfair, but Livia did not trust her or anyone under this roof except the people currently in the room with her.

“I will be down soon,” she says faintly as a yawn splits her face, drawing tears to her eyes.

“Alright, I will tell the lord and lady,” Brenda says through the door and shuffled off like a scared bug if the sounds of the old wood creaking were anything to go by.

Damn, she was tired.

At this point, Livia would kill in cold blood to sleep for eight hours straight.

Give birth when???

Labor pain be damned. She just wanted this growing ball of energy that was her son out of her. Please and thank you. It was exhausting to know that she still had some weeks to go. Of course, right on top of that was the now constant anxious threat of giving birth any day leading up to that.

Livia has been silently driving herself insane by going over any and all memories she had on the topic of labor and childbirth. Strangely enough, despite having had no desire to have children of her own previously, she had done a sizeable amount of research on it.

Walking, eating spicy foods, etc., was a good way to get the show going. But as of now, she had no luck in her efforts as Livia was stuck somewhere between eagerly to be done with all of this and feel like a normal human being and scared shitless at the very thought of becoming a mother.

So, that is what she has been occupied with while stuck in the north wing. Somehow, she has also become even more of a reclusive if Beth’s complaints about her time inside her room were anything to go by. At least she had Amaya, Sen, Noctis, and now even Liliana to keep her fairly occupied in the meanwhile.

Embarrassingly enough, Livia had also found herself nesting of all things. The nursery has been re-arranged. Thrice. With the help of Sen and Amaya. In the end, she has decided she hated everything in the room and ended up parking one of the bassinets she had purchased weeks ago right next to her bed and calling it a day. She also color-coded the baby clothes, re-arranged her room, and had to fight the urge to cry every few seconds as well.

That had been...an experience.

And now she was being summoned by not one, but both of her parents.

Livia contemplates her wrinkled black dress for a second before shrugging. It will do. She was not in the mood to go through the struggle of putting on another one just to look more presentable.

Though maybe she could at least pull her hair back into a ponytail. She blows a stray, frizzled strand out of her eyes and tries to drag her fingers through the purple locks only for it to become snagged.

“Ugh,” she says, trying to yank her fingers out.

“Are you trying to pull out your hair?” Amaya asks, slapping her hand away lightly. In her hand were a brush and a black silky ribbon.

Looks like the maid had the same thought.

Livia is guided to sit at a chair and as Amaya fixes up her hair, Liliana walks over with an anxious expression. It was a bit strange to see her with dark hair and blue eyes, but she adapts easily and offers up a comforting smile to her little sister.

“It’ll be fine,” She tries to reassure her.

“Maybe I should come with you,” Liliana says, obviously still worried.

“You can’t,” Amaya says as she begins to tie up Livia's hair with expert practice, “It will raise suspicion if another maid beside myself was suddenly close to Livia.”

“She is right,” Livia agrees and smiles sadly up at her sister's crestfallen face. She gathers Liliana’s hands in hers.

“Don’t worry, Liliana. I already have a good idea what this summons is all about.”

Her sister tilts her head, “Really?”

Livia nods, “Yes. Between my absence from the majority of the Fall Festival and the arranged meetings between Rodale, I think my parents wish to have a bit of an intervention. Though, from what I can tell, they are not of the same mind.”

Her father did not seem to care about the fact that she was not making the most stellar impressions, all but becoming a phantom in her own home, while her mother seemed to be up in arms. Livia has also had little to no interaction with Lynette, Lady Greta, or Lady Gisella since the guests have arrived. Her father had wished for her to be unseen from all but him, even going so far as to attempt to recruit Sen to his cause.

Because of this, Livia had to keep a low and uninteresting profile. It was also the main reason why she had kept so close to her own rooms and rarely ventured out unless she was ordered to.

“Done,” Amaya says and pats her shoulder.

She hums and slowly stands with the help of Liliana.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t go with you?” Her sister asks again.

Livia just pats her cheek, “I’ll be fine,” she says again, and for a bit, almost believes it.

She says nothing at all about the upcoming event staring one Amelia Margaret Reeve.

---

 

“My, look how large you have become,” This is the first greeting she gets from her mother after weeks without seeing each other. Rose pink eyes look her up from top to bottom, clearly evaluating her. Beside the duchess, her father sits like a forgotten rock.

“Come here, dear, let your mother get a good look at you,” Lynette goes on to say as she stands and sashays forward.

Livia's shoulders are gripped tightly by claw-like fingers, the touch feels bizarrely nostalgic. Surprised by the fact that a small part of her actually missed this type of interaction, she lets herself be turned left and right so her mother could get an eye full of her heavily pregnant figure.

A part of her almost expected anger, maybe even a hint of a grudge on her mother's face. Especially since the last time they had parted, Livia had told a lie to Orin and Rodale on her mother's behalf to extract a second promise from the duchess. Right after she had made it starkly clear that she was no longer the obedient daughter who could be beaten to fall in line.

However, Lynette acts as such things have never happened at all. The keyword in that sentence was act.

“How far along are you now, sweetie? By the look of you, I would say at least nine months or so,” The duchess croons and then giggles, “It won’t be long now, will it? To think you have been forced to endure such a thing alone during the most crucial months,” Lynette leans in, “Have the sleepless nights begun? Oh, I remember when I had been pregnant with you that-”

“Lynette, I recall there was a more pressing reason behind our visit,” Her father states.

“Oh, right. Of course,” Lynette says without missing a beat. She then places Livia's hand in the bend of her scrawny arm and guides her to a seat.

Livia is annoyed by the fact that her mother does not return to her father's side, but instead chooses to take a seat right next to her.

“As you know, the Fall Courtship has been underway for a few weeks now,” Lynette begins without prompt as she dutifully begins to prepare a cup of tea for her daughter, “Your father had seen to move you here for your own sake of mind and even had been gracious enough to let you skip most of the events in regards to your delicate health,” Rose eyes drop to her stomach. A red mouth curls up slightly.

Lynette hands her the cup of tea she prepared. Livia takes it and uses it as a hand warmer.

“But now that the Fall Courtship will be drawing to a close on the thirty-first day of this month, your father has decided to allow you to participate in the last two events,” The duchess continues, clearly pleased.

Livia wanted to spit in her eye.

Instead, she nods her head placidly, expressionless.

She had guessed as much.

“You shall be attending the tea party in the garden tomorrow afternoon as well as the closing gala,” Lynette informs Livia with a broad smile of triumph, “I also must insist that you attend dinner with the guest in the main dining hall back at the estate.”

“I will not,” Livia says bluntly. Her fingers drum on the smooth porcelain in her hands.

Lynette’s smile does not waver at her insolence. Her head turns and her eyes land on her husband. Silently, she tilts her head in the direction of her only daughter.

Her father mirrored eyes blink slowly, “You do not have to attend if you do not wish to, Livia. The walk from the estate and the north wing is not a small one.”

The duchess's smile does dims, her mouth twitching downward as her plucked eyebrows twitch.

“Dear,” Lynette grounds out.

Her father places down his half-empty cup of tea and stands up, “That is all we have come to say,” He speaks as if his wife had never spoken.

“Come along, wife. We should not disturb Livia too much.”

“Oh, but there is another important thing that I have yet to mention,” Lynette says not moving. Before her father could respond, the duchess turns her attention back to her daughter.

Livia did not like the expression on her face. Especially when her mother's pink eyes darted behind her and over at where Beth and Amaya stood by.

“I must say, I find it inappropriate that my daughter is being taken care of by such a small party of servants, dear,” Lynette's eyes flicker up, a whisper of a shadow falling over them as her expression turns scornful, “Do you care so little for Livia’s health? I must insist that I take over her care from now until she gives birth.”

What.

Lynette turns to her and she exchanges the mask on her face with one of concern. Her boney hand lifts up to cup Livia's shocked face, “Poor thing. You must have felt so alone and scared, but it is alright. Your mother is here now,” She croons sweetly and drags her daughter forward in a cold embrace, making sure to avoid having contact with her belly.

“Fine. So be it,” Her father accepts.

Livia’s head snaps in his direction, “Father, there is no need-” She starts to say as her mother smirks into her hair.

“The assigned servants stay,” Her father continues on as if she hadn’t spoken, “They had been put in place by King Grail himself. However, you are free to add on to them to better take care of our daughter, wife.”

Lynette’s parody of a hug becomes too tight and Livia jerks away.

The duchess straightens and smiles beautifully up at her husband, “That will be fine.”

No. It wasn’t, Livia thinks as she exchanges an alarmed look with Amaya and Beth.

“Good. Let us leave. Livia should retire for the day,” Her father decides for all of them.

Lynette drags Livia into another embrace and plants a kiss into her hair, “Don’t worry sweetie. Your mother will make sure that you stay healthy and happy no matter what,” She promises, and then she gets up and follows her husband out after casting a sly look at Beth and Amaya’s way.

“What the fuck just happened?” Livia snarls in the quiet of the sitting room, furious.

---