| Chapter Four |

Elysian Heights—the Academy. It was only a matter of days before Y/n would have to attend it.

There was only a teeny, tiny problem; that Y/n, now posing as Livio, did not know anything about mana. Or how tests worked in the academy, for that matter. He had been too preoccupied with a certain Prince to even think about what he would do. And then there was the novel’s plot—a few days had passed since Aristidis and Y/n had first talked, and now it was the day of Angelina’s second ‘first-meet’ event—one that involved Elliot, a knight and commoner.

How would they meet? It was rather cliche; for Elliot had simply not been able to afford a sword he had desired—and Angelina, being the daughter from a wealthy family, had offered to buy it for him. It gave Elliot a sense of debt; and he spent most of his time trying desperately to repay what she had done for him.

This dynamic was the one of the most dangerous out of them all; for Y/n doubted whether it was even love. Perhaps Elliot wasn’t obsessed with her; but by the thought of Angelina being his savior, and him returning the debt. One wrong move, and it would lead to the bad ending, where Elliot would betray Angelina.

And to make matters worse; the only reason why Y/n knew that the event had started was because he had seen a carriage leave for the city square, the place where the meet took place. So it was highly likely they had already met. Now the only thing he could do was discourage his sister from seeing Elliot again; through any method he could think of. But it wasn’t like Y/n wanted to be controlling either; so he would have to approach Angelina in a…neutral way? A controlled manner? How would it be possible for him to prevent them from meeting again?

Whatever it was, it wouldn’t do any harm for Y/n to check out the city square—he was just beginning to feel cooped up. Which was an issue he didn’t even know could exist when he lived in an enormous manor.

“Young master, the Count called for you.”

The voice broke Y/n out of his reverie, and he sat up right—stunned by the abrupt news. Has the game ever mentioned or specified the relationship between Livio and his father? As far as he was concerned, he knew Angelina’s mother was dead—and that..

Dialogue from the game popped up in his mind.

[Why is it always Livio, father? Why do you adore your son so, yet despise your daughter?]

[Is it because you think I killed your wife—my mother? That my birth murdered her? Why did you choose Livio? Is it because he has the same raven black hair as my mother?]

Y/n paused.

Oh.

Livio and his father had a good relationship—the Count adored his only son. He constantly pampered him with gifts and spent much time with him, but neglected his only daughter. The reason—again, was cliche—of course his wife passed away. That seemed to be a recurring trait for every single one of the main character’s backstory, be it in a novel otome game. Angelina sure had it hard; she did not receive any affection from anyone in the game in the early stages of her life, except for her brother.

No wonder she seems so fond of Livio..

For the first time, Y/n felt a pang. Essentially, he was replacing Livio. The person Angelina and The Count loved wasn't him.

It was a different person.

“…Then I’ll go.” Y/n called out softly, opening the door—“is Father in his study?” He noticed how the maid whom he had directed his question at blushed scarlet, stuttering over her words.

“Y-Yes, Young Master.”

Hmm.

Handsome, intelligent, strong, and of a position with prestige. Y/n didn’t see how Livio wasn’t popular. But it wasn’t like it mattered. Y/n was thankful the body he had reincarnated to wasn’t that of a villain, or a main character. Simply a side one.

As Y/n made his way through the grand halls of the mansion, he couldn't help but notice the opulence and elegance that surrounded him. The intricate designs on the walls, the lavish paintings, and the shimmering chandeliers all spoke of the wealth and status his new family possessed.

Reaching the study, Y/n hesitated for a moment before knocking softly on the door. A deep voice resonated from inside, "Enter."

Pushing open the heavy door, Y/n stepped into the dimly lit room. The scent of old books and leather filled the air, creating an atmosphere of knowledge and power. The Count sat behind a large mahogany desk, engrossed in some documents. His piercing gaze met Y/n's as he looked up from his work.

He was a striking man; and Livio greatly resembled him. They had the same features; but instead of the Count’s honey blonde hair, Livio had his late mother’s smooth, raven black hair. It was strange when he thought of it—the count neglected the one who shared the same features. Age seemed to further enhance his attractiveness instead of dampening it.

"Ah, Livio." the Count said with a warm, sweet smile. "Come in, come in. I was just going through some matters of the estate. Please, have a seat."

Y/n nodded respectfully and took a seat in one of the plush chairs across from the Count. The room fell into a brief silence as the Count finished signing a document and placed his quill down. His intense gaze bore into Y/n, making him slightly nervous.

"I trust you've been settling in well," the Count began, his voice commanding yet gentle, “I was pleased to hear of your report from the academy. You have done very well.”

Not for long.

“Yes, father.”

“You used to be so small,” The Count said wistfully, “I remember you used to clutch at my hand with those tiny fingers of yours—your lips grubby from the amount of sweets you ate. I always told Ria not to indulge you, but she always spoiled you.”

Ria.

His mother—Livio’s father..

These memories weren’t his. Y/n fidgeted as the Count recounted this in an affectionate tone. What was his name, anyways? Nicholas?

He mustered a small smile, hiding the mix of emotions swirling within him. "Yes, Father, I remember those days as well. Ria always had a soft spot for me." That was a lie.

Lies were an essential part of surviving in this place.

From the time he had transmigrated—he had always been lying. It was a stuffy feeling; and Y/n thought with momentary light-heartedness that he could truly be himself; without a veil—with the Crown Prince.

The Count's gaze softened, and a nostalgic smile graced his features. "She loved you dearly, you know. I remember how she used to dote on you, always ensuring your happiness. It's a shame she's no longer with us."

Y/n's heart ached at the mention of Ria, the person he had never met but now a connection to through his borrowed identity. He wondered what kind of person she had been, what kind of motherly love she had bestowed upon Livio. It was another layer of complexity added to his newfound existence.

To Livio, perhaps Nicholas was a good father. But to Angelina..he was a terrible father.

“Speaking of which,” Y/n said at last, “Angelina..she starts school soon. She enrolled in the academy,” He whispered, “I thought..perhaps you might just show her a little interest.”

Was this out of brotherly concern? Not much. But out of sympathy? Yes. Y/n knew firsthand what it was like not to have parents interested in you—hell, he was practically abandoned, rotting in the hospital. He didn’t really like the idea of someone else suffering.

The Count stilled, exhaling a heavy sigh.

“Of course, I didn’t mean to..”

Excuses.

“I just don’t get it, Father. You are capable of loving—you loved Mother, and me. So what difference is it loving Angelina? She’s your daughter—a piece of something Ria left behind. It’s—it’s a disservice to her—to Mother,” Y/n said desperately, wondering where these words were suddenly spilling from.

The internal turmoil he had when he faced this exact issue in his previous life! The fact he had clamped all this up, desperate not to say a word?

The Count swallowed. His face twisted with pain.

“I can’t,” He whispered, “she brings too many bad memories. She—she’s the spitting image of Ria, you know. But her eye color—her hair—all belong to me. She’s the very proof; she’s the living existence of my wife’s death. Her birthday is my wife’s death day.”

Pathetic.

“Then I don’t know what to say.” Y/n murmured, “Please, Father,”Y/n pleaded softly, “Give Angelina a chance. She's your daughter, and she needs you. It's not too late to mend the wounds and create a better future for both of you.”

The room was filled with silence, before the Count turned away.

“I don’t wish to have this conversation now,” The Count said slowly, “another time, Livio.”

Y/n recognised this tone. The Count was asking him to leave.

Despite how well he treated Livio; he was a coward. A shell of a man, hollowed by his grief—a stubborn fool who did not know his actions were the opposite of what the one he loved would have wanted.

“Prepare the carriage,” Y/n called out, “I shall be going to the city square.”

He had done what he could possibly do, at least for the time being. He had tried. To at least make life a little easier for his sister. But now..it had failed, so Y/n decided to have a change of plans; it was time to visit the city square.

—

“It can’t be you. Again.” Y/n deadpanned, “oh, heavens—kill me.”

After such a depressing morning, Y/n had hoped he would be able to get some fresh air, before searching for his sister. But unfortunately, that proved to be impossible, given that there was a Prince now standing before him.

“I can’t help it. You’re too conspicuous,” Aristidis said carelessly, “look at the guards tailing you.”

Right.

One annoying thing was that as he was nobility and also the Count’s treasured son; he had tens of guards trailing after him.

“Says the Prince,” Y/n mustered up a smile, still keeping a civil, respectful tone—“what are you doing here, Your Highness? I thought you would be improving your little chess skills after I completely destroyed your ego.”

“I believe it was the other way around,” Aristidis said smoothly, “but no—I have matters of my own to attend to. Might I ask what you are doing here, my dear young master?”

Again with that endearment.

“Simply minding my own business, Your Highness.” Y/n said as politely as he could, trying his best not to add any cutting remarks, “I apologize. Has my presence affected you? Then I shall go—”

Aristidis chuckled softly, his amused gaze never leaving Y/n's face. His fingers reached out to Y/n’s cheek, grazing it softly. It wasn’t really an affectionate gesture, mostly curiosity. "No need to rush off. It just seems like I stumbled upon you unexpectedly. I don't mind your presence at all."

Y/n raised an eyebrow, and he forced himself to maintain composure and politeness despite the underlying irritation.

“Is that so? That’s a compliment to me,” Y/n smiled, “and if we are throwing compliments at each other now, this—” Y/n jabbed at a dazzling flower, it’s shade the exact same as Aristidis’s eye color; jewels—“reminds me of you.”

“That one’s poisonous, my dear Livio.”

Y/n promptly let go, freezing.

“I didn’t..know that.”

Was this considered as an assassination attempt on the Crown Prince?

“Well, I wouldn’t put it past you to compare me to a poisonous flower,” Aristidis simply brushed it off, “nothing about you surprises me much at this point.”

“So I’m a predictable person, you’re saying? How insulting, I must say.” Y/n continued in that aggravatingly polite voice, intended to ruffle the Crown Prince—“I thought the Prince, for instance—would have..say, better..manners.”

Aristidis's amusement transformed into a mischievous glint in his eyes. He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial tone. "Ah, but you see, Livio, manners can be deceiving. What may appear as good manners on the surface can often mask a multitude of sins beneath. You should be careful."

Was Aristidis referring to the rumors surrounding himself now?

Y/n's facade of politeness cracked slightly, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. "Are you insinuating something, Your Highness?"

Aristidis leaned back, a playful smirk on his lips. "Oh, I wouldn't dare. I'm merely stating a general observation. After all, we know each other so well, don’t we?"

The tension in the air thickened, and Y/n couldn't help but feel a mixture of curiosity and irritation towards the enigmatic Crown Prince. There was something about him that unsettled Y/n, something beyond his princely—and utterly irritating demeanor.

Was it the touch that lingered on his cheek? His bold, playful smile? The air of regalia, accompanied by a cunning wit?

"Your Highness," Y/n began, his voice steady, "we might have crossed paths, but it's presumptuous to claim that we know each other so well. In truth, I find you to be rather..an enigma. I’ll never be able to fully decipher your actions.”

Aristidis's smirk widened, and he leaned in again, their faces almost touching. "Is that so? Then perhaps you'd like to learn more about this puzzle, Livio," he whispered, “you claim you don’t know me—but I think you do understand me. But if you truly don’t, then spending more time together will be a better fit, yes?”

“That was hardly what I said, Your Highness, and you know it—”

“Well then,” Aristidis said cheerfully, “we have the whole day in front of us. Why don’t we explore the city square?”

At that moment, Y/n realized with exasperation that there was simply no more time to do what he had originally wanted to do. Before he knew it, he had been swept along the tides—swept along by Aristidis.

To make matters worse, Y/n was pretty sure he didn’t even dislike it.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***