CHAPTER 105…………………………………………
‘What in the world….’
What kind of situation was this, exactly?
Graceful, solemn, authoritative, and composed —
Those were the words that had always described Minerva.
It had only been recently that he realized that elegant façade was something she put on — that her real, natural self was different.
But surely… this wasn’t her true self either?
The Minerva in front of him was nothing like the dignified, gentle woman he usually saw.
“I don’t wanna go back to the Imperial Palace! I really, really don’t! But when I think about that jerk Mars becoming Emperor, I can’t stand it either! Why does he have to live like that, huh? If he’d just done his job properly, I wouldn’t be sitting here clutching my head like this!”
…Was this a tantrum?
Somehow, in this version of her, Lloyd could see Aslan.
He had wondered how someone like Aslan could come from Minerva, but now it made sense — they were exactly alike.
Like mother, like daughter.
Apparently quite drunk, Minerva grabbed the bottle again and put it straight to her lips.
“Your Highness!”
Lloyd, startled, quickly snatched the bottle away.
But it was already empty.
Minerva whimpered.
“My sooooul…”
She reached out for the empty bottle with a pitiful little motion.
A short while ago, Lloyd himself had been on the verge of passing out drunk — but thanks to Minerva’s drunken antics, the haze had completely cleared.
Trying to stay calm, Lloyd quietly filled her glass — with water, pretending it was alcohol.
“Here you are.”
Minerva abruptly stopped crying, almost like a ghost had switched her off.
Thinking it might work, Lloyd added quickly,
“It’s a cocktail — light and easy to enjoy.”
It was really nothing but pure water drawn and filtered from the Millennium Lake, mixed with ice from the same source.
He didn’t say that part out loud.
Fortunately, Minerva took the offered drink without suspicion — only to immediately frown.
“Isn’t this just water?”
“No, ma’am. It’s a cocktail.”
At his firm answer, Minerva tilted her head, then took another sip of the “cocktail.”
But soon she glared at him with sharp, accusing eyes.
“It is water. First you cheat at cards, now you’re scamming me again.”
Why was she suddenly sharp and lucid only about this?
He felt like he was losing his mind.
“Your Highness, you’ve already had too much.”
“If not today, when else can I drink? Once I’m back at the palace, I won’t be able to drink like this anymore.”
Minerva flopped onto the sofa like a sulky drunkard.
Lloyd had been planning to stop her, but his resolve softened.
She was right — until things stabilized, she wouldn’t have a moment’s peace at the palace.
Resigned, Lloyd set a fresh glass in front of her and poured himself another drink as well.
“I can’t believe I have to go play the princess again. It’s ridiculous, isn’t it, Duke?”
Minerva leaned her head back against the sofa, sighing deeply.
“And I have to act nicer than before, too. If I act like my real self and throw a royal fit, people will blame Aslan for it. But if I act nice, they start walking all over me. It’s infuriating.”
It was unclear if she even realized Lloyd was still there — her words were slurred, tumbling together in drunken complaint, blaming everyone and everything.
Her gaze wandered in the air; the smell of liquor hung around her.
She had genuinely enjoyed her quiet life in the countryside.
The only reason she was going back… was for Aslan.
Lloyd understood the weight of that decision — to return knowingly to danger, taking her child with her.
So he couldn’t bring himself to say anything lightly.
“And you… You just let him die. What did that kid ever do wrong? If you took him in, you should’ve taken responsibility to the end.”
“P–pardon?”
What was she talking about now?
Was she referring to Ayla? But Ayla was perfectly fine.
What on earth did she mean?
Suddenly, Minerva lowered her head and looked straight at him.
Her eyes were full of resentment, anger… and something almost like pity.
Then, in a soft, trembling voice, she spoke.
“Can I… ask you a favor?”
“Yes, of course, Your Highness. Anything.”
Lloyd answered immediately — he’d been wanting to make up for his past mistakes toward her anyway.
Minerva fiddled with her glass, then drained it in one gulp, as if to gather courage for what she had to say.
She exhaled a small sigh and spoke.
“You know I have to return to the palace soon, right?”
“Yes, I know.”
It had been a week since she’d received the imperial decree. Normally, she would have left then and already arrived by now.
Since she hadn’t, the Emperor would surely send for her again soon.
Minerva bowed her head to Lloyd.
“Please take care of Aslan for me.”
She wasn’t slumping from drunkenness — she bowed of her own will.
That proud head, which had always looked down on others, now bent before Lloyd.
“The timing’s come too soon, and you’ve got your own hands full. You can’t come with us to the capital anyway. It’ll just be me and Aslan. But… I can’t bring myself to take her there.”
“Your Highness, please, raise your head.”
Flustered and uncomfortable, Lloyd didn’t know what to do.
But at his words, she only bowed lower.
“Please… keep my children safe here, Duke. Don’t let them do anything dangerous. Don’t encourage them to take revenge if something happens to me. Just… let them live peacefully. Happily. Please.”
Her hands trembled as they gripped his.
She looked so fragile — like a glass figure that might shatter if touched.
Lloyd knelt in front of her and gently held her hands.
“I swear it. And as for revenge — how could I ever urge a child to do such a thing?”
At that, she squeezed his hands tighter.
Then she lifted her tear-brimmed eyes and rebuked him softly.
“But you did, didn’t you…”
It made no sense — nothing like that had even happened.
And yet she looked at him with the certainty of someone who had already seen that future with her own eyes.
He could have brushed it off as drunken nonsense…
but the unease in her gaze felt far too real.
Wondering how to comfort her, Lloyd finally held out his pinky.
Minerva blinked at him in confusion.
“I swear I won’t. Pinky promise.”
Whenever Lloyd made a pinky promise with Ayla, he never broke it.
And Minerva knew that — because she was the one who had taught him that promise in the first place.
Her slender pinky hooked around his.
But that wasn’t enough for her — she stuck out her thumb next.
“Stamp it.”
“Yes, stamp.”
“And copy.”
“Yes, copy.”
The old Minerva would’ve made him sign a written contract at the very least.
She’d become… almost cute.
Without realizing it, a small smile crept onto Lloyd’s face.
Minerva spoke earnestly, almost like a child.
“You have to keep your promise. You must.”
“Yes. With the stamp and the copy, it’s official. I’ll keep it for sure.”
Her blue eyes softened — calm, clear, and sincere.
She decided to trust him.
Because she knew Lloyd would never lie about anything involving children.
In the original timeline, Lloyd had urged Leona toward vengeance.
So it was hard for her to fully believe that this Lloyd wouldn’t do the same —
but before she could think any further, her eyelids grew heavy and closed.
Minerva fell asleep on the sofa, breathing softly.
The room grew silent enough for her quiet breathing to sound loud.
Lloyd gazed at her face.
She hadn’t shed a single tear while speaking earlier — but now, one solitary tear had welled up and slid down her cheek.
Just one.
She looked heartbreakingly fragile.
She’d invited him for a drink just to gather the courage to ask him to take care of Aslan.
Even that simple request had been so hard for her that she’d had to drown herself in alcohol first.
Above all else, she just looked tired.
He wanted to help her.
A strand of her red hair brushed across her tear-stained cheek.
Lloyd gently brushed it aside.
‘The children… will be so sad.’
He knew they would —
and yet, despite knowing that, all he could think about was wanting to ease Minerva’s pain.
And for that, Lloyd felt disgusted with himself.
