TRFDTV ~ 26

Chapter – 26

Asilli brushed his hand away and pushed herself halfway up. At the same time, she patted the space beside her.

“Lie down for a bit.”

Ludwig neither questioned her nor reflexively drew back.

In dreams, they often lay side by side like this—or sometimes, like bats hanging upside down at a reunion, giggling together.

So, he lay down next to her as if it were the most natural thing in the world, and into his hand—much larger than hers—a small, wriggling hand slipped.

It seemed Asilli wasn’t the only one remembering those dreams. She murmured softly to herself:

“Your hand’s… warm. Unlike in the dream.”

Still holding his hand, she lifted his arm.

“Your arm’s too heavy. And why is it so unnecessarily long?”

Looking up at his awkwardly bent arm—bent because of their difference in height—she grumbled half-playfully. Ludwig frowned slightly, smiling despite himself.

Who else, besides Asilli, could ever scold him for having arms that were too heavy and too long?

At length, Asilli lowered his arm and closed her eyes.

“I’m going to sleep.”

“Like this?”

“Mm-hm. Just holding hands.”

Asilli gave a faint, self-deprecating laugh as soon as she said it and sighed softly.

“Funny, isn’t it? ‘Let’s just sleep holding hands’ was supposed to be a joke.”

“A joke? Why?”

“Explaining a joke ruins it. Anyway, I’ll sleep like this.”

“It’ll be uncomfortable.”

“I don’t mind. Somehow… with you here, I feel like I could sleep without dreaming.”

Though her words carried desperate sincerity, her face was utterly calm. Only her voice was thick with exhaustion.

“Since it’s come to this, you should get some rest too. Even if you can’t sleep, just… try.”

Her voice, gently insisting, grew fainter and fainter until it finally disappeared.

Asilli, who had fallen asleep in the blink of an eye, began to breathe evenly. Ludwig didn’t move for a long time—just watched her in silence.

After some time, he slowly sat up.

Even in what seemed like deep sleep, she furrowed her brows now and then, a sheen of cold sweat forming on her skin. He gazed down at her quietly.

“It’ll be all right. Everything will be all right.”

Words he could never say while she was awake. Words he couldn’t bring himself to speak while looking into her eyes.

But still—he wished, with all his heart.

As Ludwig gently brushed the damp hair from Asilli’s forehead, he whispered:

“I just hope… that for now, you can sleep peacefully.”

While Asilli slept like the dead with Ludwig beside her,
the Crown Prince tilted his head at his aide’s report.

“The Grand Duchess Selection?”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“I thought the Grand Duchess had already been chosen.”

The aide shook his head as he flipped through his notes.

“Since the Grand Duchess’s selection ball was disrupted, His Majesty decided to gather the opinions of the noble houses—”

“Spare me the complicated explanation.”

Cutting him off with a wave of his hand, the Crown Prince smirked mischievously.

“A selection competition for the Grand Duchess, huh? Sounds much more entertaining than a ball.”

He thought of Asilli—who had, quite literally, landed a blow squarely on his chest at the ball—and instinctively rubbed his neck.

“Brother was too harsh.”

“Pardon?”

The aide perked up at the word brother, but the prince waved him off.

“Nothing. Anyway—what’s the task?”

“Restoring a ruined garden.”

A few hours after the Crown Prince heard of the Grand Duchess Selection…

Deep within the main house of the Grand Duke’s estate, Asilli—who had unintentionally wrecked the selection ball—blinked in disbelief.

“Restore a ruined garden?”

“Yes.”

She repeated the phrase as she tried to reclaim the luggage Ludwig had caught mid-flight from her attempted runaway.

“What does restoring a garden have to do with becoming Grand Duchess? Don’t tell me one of the qualifications is ‘a talent for gardening’ or something like that?”

“There is—sort of. More precisely, it’s about maintaining the beauty of a castle or estate.”

“What a ridiculous—no, wait.”

She frowned, then nodded slowly.

“Come to think of it, that makes sense. Castles and mansions are homes, after all. Keeping them beautiful and clean is natural.”

Then, tilting her head again, she frowned.

“But it’s still odd. The Grand Duchess herself isn’t going to garden, right?”

“She won’t do it personally.”

“Right? I figured as much. Even as a hobby, I imagine everyone would stop her.”

She didn’t know everything about this world yet, but even in history, one of the ultimate symbols of status had always been soft, uncalloused hands that never knew labor.

“Then why make this the task? For a competition, I expected something like: here’s a set amount of money, use it to invest wisely—or maybe propose a solution to one of the Empire’s current problems.”

“It’s His Majesty’s doing.”

Ludwig’s dry, clipped reply made Asilli laugh under her breath.

“Well, when you put it like that, there’s really nothing left to say.”

After all, who was the Emperor? The one who wielded near-absolute power in this Empire.

If he decided to call an apple a peach, then from that moment on, apples would be peaches.

“At least he’s not sending me off to war. So whatever.”

She shrugged. Her tone said, As long as he’s not ordering me to die, it’s fine.
But Ludwig didn’t let even that pass.

“Even if that order came, I wouldn’t let you go.”

Asilli laughed softly and leaned her forehead against his.

“I know. You’d go instead.”

Ludwig’s brows drew together as he smiled faintly.

“No.”

“What? No?”

“That’s right. I wouldn’t leave you behind.”

Asilli blinked slowly, then answered simply:

“Mm. Well, if it’s with you, even a battlefield doesn’t sound too bad.”

Her words were pure sincerity—and for an instant, something flickered deep within Ludwig’s dry eyes.

It vanished in a heartbeat, unnoticed by either of them, sinking silently into his chest.

“No. I have no intention of taking you to a battlefield.”

“Then what will you do?”

“I’ll make His Majesty withdraw the order.”

Though his tone was calm and even, anyone else hearing it would’ve thought of one word—treason.

An Emperor’s decree was law—absolute, immovable.

But a Grand Duke, one who could one day ascend the throne, declaring he’d make the Emperor take back his words? That was more than enough to spark suspicion.

Yet before him stood only one person—Asilli.

“The Emperor will lose face.”

She dismissed the notion lightly, as if forcing the Emperor to retract his decree were nothing at all.

“You’re the only one who could say that.”

Indeed, she alone in the world could describe an Emperor’s humiliation as “losing face a little.”

“He’s not my Emperor.”

Her casual shrug couldn’t quite hide the emptiness beneath her words—the faint hollowness, the nostalgia for something irretrievably lost.

If she were from another country, it might simply have been patriotism. But she wasn’t from this world at all.

No nation here could ever be her homeland, nor was there any promise she could return to where she came from.

Ludwig brushed his fingers gently along her cheek.

“I’m looking for a way to wake the head of the Bolsheik family.”

He didn’t add the words so please, wait a little longer.
No—he couldn’t.

Because waiting meant expecting.
And expectation—though it could be a seed of hope—was just as often the root of disappointment and despair.

Ludwig only wished…

That Asilli would never have to know that despair.
That her eyes would never again fall into that bottomless dark.

But wishes were fragile things.

“Don’t make that face.”

As if reading his thoughts, Asilli shook her head.

“Why do you look so guilty? Or is it… debt you feel?”

His once-cool eyes softened, sinking under the weight of emotion. She smiled faintly, lowering her brows.

“Don’t make that face. And don’t give me those eyes.”

If only he pitied her, she could at least get angry.

She’d fallen into this world with no reason, no understanding of why or how. Her sorrow and anger had nowhere to go.

And who was closer, who easier to pour that helplessness onto, than the man right before her?

Yet she couldn’t.

Because when she was falling, it was he who caught her hand.
When she trembled, it was he who held her.
And all he had ever given her—was sincerity.

“Tell me, Ludwig.”

“Yes.”

“If I asked for it… you’d even give me your heart, wouldn’t you?”

“If you wished for it.”

He didn’t hesitate for even a breath.

Asilli shook her head.

“Even if I do, don’t give it to me.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck and closed her eyes.

“Because what I need is you—alive and breathing.”

The warmth between them reminded her all over again that this wasn’t a dream.

And that was somehow… unbearably painful.

“If you wished for it,”

he murmured again, his voice low and steady, sincerity saturating every word.

And at that, Asilli smiled.