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Kingmaker's Revenge

Never did Lumielle claim that she was a good woman. In fact, she was a cruel woman who did nothing to deserve mercy for kindness. Poisoning her own father and placing her younger brother on the throne, Lumielle painted her future red with her crimes. Yet, she would have never thought that her retribution would come in the form of the death of her precious younger brother. Revenge. Revenge. Revenge. That was the only thing on Lumielle's mind as she rotted inside of a prison cell. Her younger brother dead and Cosette, the daughter of the Duke, smiling down on her with a commemorative crown on her head. She had tried to take it all; her love, her father, and finally when Cosette couldn't have her brother, she killed him. Revenge. Revenge. Revenge. Traveling back in time, Lumielle awakens when she's only twelve years old with a new chance to enact her revenge.

saemi · Fantasie
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240 Chs

Sick

He was burning up—she could feel it from his skin touching her own. The temperature difference was jarring. "Princess, why are you here?" he mumbled, he sounded confused and lethargic. Lumielle let out a sigh.

"You invited me to your estate, remember?" She inferred. He was heavy but she did her best to stand tall. He was blistering, practically radiating heat, as he let out a slight laugh. His voice was hoarse, coated with sleepiness.

"I forgot," he mumbled, "Sorry, Princess."

"There's no reason you should apologize, you're sick," she spoke swiftly as if to admonish him for trying to apologize. "I should be the one apologizing. For I'll be handling you a bit roughly," she muttered somewhat embarrassed. Shifting, Lumielle managed to guide him to the bed where she did her best to carefully place him. Luckily, she was as tall as he was though he was much heavier. Her arms felt weak from being the one to hold him up.

Blue eyes were closed as Lumielle pressed a hand against the male's forehead; he was hot. The door creaked open to reveal Sylvia; "Sylvia," Lumielle spoke, "Go get some towels and cold water. Then go contact the Grand Duke Everion." There was not an ounce of hesitation as Sylvia nodded.

Asterias tugged on her hand, "Not my father. He's busy and he shouldn't be concerned with this." Lumielle could tell that was the reason he had done this—he was still a child. No matter how old he tried to be, Lumielle had forgotten that he was nothing more than a young boy.

"Tell Leo to order all the servants to gather in front of Sir. Asterias's room," she dismissed her as the maid nodded, bowing and Lumielle turned back to the white-haired boy.

Did Asterias not know how much his father cared for him? He had died for him in his past life. It made sense that their relationship would be estranged after the death of his mother, but to hide this from him? She sighed. Due to the fact that she had limited exposure to him in her first life, she didn't know the answers to her own inquiries. "Don't get my father," he whispered as Lumielle placed her hand against his forehead once more. He didn't have the strength to do anything else.

"So, were you just going to stay here all alone until this fever passed?" She inquired grabbing a chair and dragging it closer to him so that she could sit by his bed.

"Princess, my father, he shouldn't be concerned with me," Asterias whispered. He was stuck on the same note. A broken clock showing the same time. Lumielle's gold eyes assessed the young boy in front of her.

Sylvia entered with towels and cold water as she wet the cloth with ease; she had done this many times for Aris when he was sick. She had been adamant about being the one to take care of him. Her younger brother sometimes had delusions believing that Lumielle was their mother. "It's a parent's job to be concerned over their child," she responded with ease as she placed the cold compress on his forehead. He flinched at the contact.

"He's busy," Asterias croaked out.

"Even so, he should make some time for his sick son."

It was almost laughable that Lumielle was the one saying this. Her father had never cared about her; he was detestable. A vanishing ghost, Lumielle was quite sure that Eldrige wouldn't even shed a tear if one of them died. Only when he died did he utter that he loved her, but Lumielle almost found it laughable. It was like a curse—love was twisted. He never cared for them until the Goddess greeted him. Then, he was finally realizing that he should show care. How useless.

Gently, she brushed some hair away from his eyes. Asterias took her hand pressing it against his cheek, "Do you think he'll come?"

Was this the real reason that Asterias had locked himself in his room? Was he scared that his father wouldn't arrive? That made sense. The unknown was far more comforting than the known. Lumielle found that to be true. After all, knowledge was a curse. Ignorance was blissful and if Lumielle didn't know, she would be far less burdened. She wouldn't feel like a mad-woman running around desperately to save her brother from death. Then again, she had a chance to save him. Lumielle could change the future because she had been blessed with knowledge. The cursed information would be the one that saved Aris.

"I don't know, but you won't know until you ask," Lumielle said.

"If he doesn't come, can you stay?"

She smiled gently using her other hand to resoak the towel that rested on his forehead, "Are you using the fact that you're sick to garner pity?" She inquired quirking a brow.

"And if I am?" Asterias asked, his words were not as lustrous as they were before. He sounded sick; tired, she wondered if he had slept yet. He should sleep more.

Lumielle grasped his hand, fingers clutching onto his own, "I'll leave as soon as he comes." He seemed relieved at her response.

"I'll go get something for you to eat," Lumielle spoke as she stood up. She released her grip on his hand as he held it tightly.

Asterias stared at her; bright cerulean eyes meeting her halcyon ones, "You'll come back?" He asked, there was a hint of a plea. She could almost hear him begging. He was a child.

"I promise," she whispered almost admitting defeat. Fine, she would capitulate today. He was sick after all. Lumielle was simply helping out a young child who had a fever. There was no other reason. Exiting the room, she looked to see the staff of the manor in front of her. Her face hardened.

"The Young Master of this estate is sick and all of you were ignorant of it?" Lumielle inquired, "Get on your knees and repent." Her eyes were harsh—"It's unacceptable."

Perhaps, she had let her emotions grab ahold of her. How many times had Aris suffered at the hands of negligent staff? The two siblings had endured their own abuse due to the fact that no one cared for him. The maids and butlers simply cast a blind eye to their suffering. Lumielle had to steal food for him to eat. Thus, she grew overly protective over the blonde boy, not trusting anyone to help him when he grew sick. She bit her lip, "Leo, go back to the estate and make the chefs make something for Sir. Asterias to eat. I don't trust anyone in this estate as they seem incompetent at their jobs."

Icy, her glare was absolutely algid. "Don't even think of moving an inch and raise your hands," she snarled out as Leo bowed his head and quickly left the estate. How pathetic. The acumen inside of Lumielle's brain told her that she was being unreasonable—they were all servants, on what domain could they have entered Asterias's room? They couldn't. They had probably begged him to come out but only received silence. The fault was not theirs but now they were receiving the punishment. Life was unfair.

Entering the room, Asterias was sleeping. Sitting in the chair, Lumielle placed her hand against his cheek to check his temperature again. He was still hot. He shuffled in his sleep turning towards her and taking her hand with his own. His grip was loose but Lumielle didn't remove her hand keeping it pressed against his nose.

The scent of lavender and lilacs had proven to be comforting to Asterias. The scent of the handkerchief that he had cherished was now engulfing him. He had always been told to stay strong by those around him. Yet, Lumielle had told him that he could cry—she had laughed at the remarks his father had tossed at him. She was interesting, absolutely fascinating. Even now, while he was sick, he couldn't help but think about her. His mind lingered towards her as his eyes opened. Was it night?

"Your father is here," Lumielle spoke realizing that the male was awake. Asterias still felt groggy; his body felt heavy as if lead had been injected inside of his veins. His mind still felt foggy. The Grand Duke had returned as soon as possible when he had heard that his son was ill. Rushing, he had come in a matter of a day. He had arrived to see the Imperial Princess in his son's room while all the servants were on their knees, hands raised about their heads as they trembled. They had been there for hours repenting.

Previously, Lumielle had apologized for punishing the servants without the permission of the Grand Duke. The older man was focused on his son's hands wrapped around Lumielle's but he smiled claiming that it was fine. Lumielle had noticed that the Grand Duke was sweating, his chest rising up and down quickly. Offering him a glass of water, the two sat by the bed of Asterias.

"I didn't realize my son was close to the Princess. It is an honor," The Grand Duke spoke as Lumielle found herself in a terrible space. She couldn't particularly deny the relationship. Asterias was still holding her hand, clutching onto it as if it was a lifeline. He looked like a naive boy, unable to do wrong, yet, Lumielle knew how mischievous he could be. With a smile that could charm the goddess, Asterias was nothing but the devil with an angel's wings.

"The honor is all mine. It was simply a coincidence, we were supposed to meet for tea this afternoon, and Sir. Asterias didn't show up." It was the truth.

Gently, the Grand Duke patted her head with a slight smile, "He's a good boy. I was worried about him after the death of Alia." She knew all of this. She knew how much the Grand Duke cherished Asterias. She had seen the display of love when he had taken the punishment of death inside of Asterias without a hint of hesitation. It made her almost envious. After that, the Grand Duke had left and she was here alone.

The crackling fire painted him warmly as Lumielle snapped back into reality, "Is it the same day?" Asterias inquired his words thick with sleep as he looked at their hands.

"Yes, it is. He came back rather quickly."

"You didn't leave," Asterias commented, his eyes were starting to shut again.

"I didn't," Lumielle affirmed; "Why, did you want me to?"

"I want you to stay," he spoke so firmly that it surprised her. His heart fluttering comments in tandem with his appearance was enough to enslave most women. What a shame that he only had eyes for Lyanna. Would Lumielle have to steal the Saintess to validate Aris's claim to the throne? She wasn't sure. It was a pity that Asterias would not be happy in this life.

"Princess," he mumbled out, her thought process was broken as she nodded, "Can you call me Rias?"

Lumielle tilted her head, "All of a sudden?" She asked partially teasing.

"I was going to ask you today, before this," Asterias mumbled.

Lumielle sighed, as she changed the cloth that was on his forehead, "Get some more rest."

"Rias," the white-haired male said, "I'm sick, you know. I could die."

"Stop using your illness as a sympathy pass," Lumielle chided. She paused as she placed the cloth on his forehead, "And get some rest, Rias."

WELL, she finally called him rias. how exciting. focusing on lumielle and rias is honestly fun. i don't have much experience on writing romance so i would love to hear i'm doing.

ANYWAYS, thank you for reading !!! xoxo

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