The Do-Over System:My Beloved is the Villain! - Chapter 40

Chapter 40: Lucian’s Second Wife?!

“I lost… to a fairy,” Svlyara murmured, her voice barely audible over the din of the cheering crowd. Her tone carried disbelief, frustration, and perhaps a hint of begrudging respect.

Aeliana, equally bruised and battered, overheard her words as she leaned against Lucian for support. Her pointed ears twitched slightly, and she narrowed her eyes at Svlyara. “I heard that,” Aeliana said, her voice sharper than the blade she had wielded moments ago. “And for your information, I’m an elf, not a fairy.”

Svlyara blinked and looked up at her, a faint smirk tugging at her lips despite her pain. “Elf, fairy, whatever. You’re still ridiculously small for someone who fights so ferociously.”

“Small doesn’t mean weak,” Aeliana countered, her emerald eyes blazing with determination. “I may not have your size or your years of experience, but I’ve got heart. And that’s what won today.”

Lucian chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing as he watched the exchange. “Careful, Svlyara. She’s got sharp ears and a sharper tongue. You’d do well not to underestimate her again.”

Svlyara let out a weak laugh, wiping the blood from her lips. “I’ll give you that, elf. You’re tougher than you look. But don’t get too cocky—this isn’t over. Next time, I’ll be better prepared.”

“Next time?” Aeliana raised an eyebrow, wincing as the medics continued to tend to her wounds. “I think I’ve had enough of you trying to kill me for one lifetime.”

Svlyara’s smirk widened, even as she clutched her side where the medics were still working to heal her. “We’ll see. For now, I’ll concede. But don’t think this changes anything, Lucian.” She turned her gaze to him, her eyes narrowing. “I still think you’re making a mistake.”

Lucian’s expression hardened, his protective arm tightening around Aeliana. “The clan has spoken, and the duel is settled. You might not agree, Svlyara, but you will respect the outcome.”

For a moment, there was silence between them. Then Svlyara sighed, her defiance ebbing slightly as she finally relented. “Fine. You’ve made your choice. But don’t expect me to cheer for you two at your wedding.”

Aeliana snorted, a hint of her usual humor returning despite the exhaustion. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

As the medics finished their work, Svlyara was escorted out of the arena to recover. Aeliana leaned heavier against Lucian, her legs trembling from the exertion of the fight.

“You did well,” Lucian murmured, his voice low and full of pride. “Better than I could’ve hoped for.”

Aeliana glanced up at him, a small smile tugging at her lips despite her fatigue. “I told you I wouldn’t let her win. I had too much to fight for.”

Lucian nodded, his golden eyes soft as he gazed down at her. “And you proved it. You’re stronger than even I imagined.”

As they made their way back to the castle, Kael jogged up to meet them, his face a mixture of worry and relief. “You look like you’ve been through hell,” he said, his eyes scanning Aeliana’s bruises.

“I feel like it too,” Aeliana muttered, though there was a glint of triumph in her eyes.

Kael grinned. “Well, I suppose congratulations are in order. You survived Svlyara. That’s no small feat.”

Aeliana chuckled weakly. “Thanks, Kael. But right now, all I want is a bath and about a week’s worth of sleep.”

As they disappeared into the castle, the crowd’s cheers still ringing faintly in their ears, Aeliana couldn’t help but glance back one last time. Svlyara’s words echoed in her mind, but she pushed them aside. She had won. For now, that was enough.

As the tension in the aftermath of the duel began to settle, Ulric approached Lucian with an air of forced calmness, though his clenched fists and tight jaw betrayed his frustration. His piercing gaze swept over Aeliana, who stood beside Lucian, still bruised but triumphant. Then, his focus returned to Lucian, and his voice carried the weight of centuries-old pride and ambition.

“Lucian,” Ulric began, his tone almost diplomatic, “while I respect the outcome of the duel, I cannot ignore the bond between you and Svlyara. The imprint mark isn’t something to be disregarded lightly. She has trained her entire life, believing you would stand by her side. Surely you understand the significance of such a connection.”

Lucian’s golden eyes darkened, and his expression remained unreadable as Ulric continued.

“I propose this compromise,” Ulric said, his voice steady despite the tension. “Take Svlyara as your second wife. She will be a valuable ally to your domain, and this union will ensure that no resentment festers between our clans. You would honor the bond without jeopardizing your current engagement.”

The silence that followed was deafening. All eyes were on Lucian, including Svlyara’s. She stood a few steps behind Ulric, her shoulders slumped, her gaze fixed on the ground. For the first time since the duel, she seemed less like the formidable warrior she was and more like someone clinging to the remnants of a dream.

Lucian’s jaw tightened, and he exhaled slowly before meeting Ulric’s gaze. “I appreciate your proposal, Ulric,” he said, his voice calm but resolute. “However, I must decline.”

Ulric’s eyes narrowed. “You would reject her so easily? After everything she has sacrificed for this bond?”

Lucian glanced at Svlyara, his expression softening slightly. “This isn’t about rejecting her. It’s about giving her the future she deserves. Svlyara is a strong, capable woman. She is far too proud and accomplished to accept the role of a second wife. She deserves to be someone’s first choice, not an afterthought.”

Svlyara’s head snapped up at his words, her eyes widening in surprise.

Lucian turned his attention back to Ulric. “If Svlyara is to marry, it should be to someone who can fully commit to her—a partner who will see her as their equal and cherish her as their first and only bride. That’s the kind of future she deserves, not a place in a marriage already built on a foundation of love and trust.”

Ulric’s expression darkened further, his voice rising slightly. “You risk offending not just me, but our entire clan, Lucian. The imprint mark—”

“—is a bond, yes,” Lucian interrupted, his tone firm. “But it’s not unbreakable. The duel proved that Aeliana is my chosen partner, and I stand by that decision. Forcing Svlyara into this role would only bring misery to everyone involved. I won’t do that to her or to Aeliana.”

A tense silence followed as Ulric processed Lucian’s words. Svlyara, who had remained quiet throughout the exchange, finally spoke, her voice uncharacteristically soft. “He’s right,” she said, surprising everyone, including herself. “I wouldn’t be satisfied as anyone’s second wife. I… I need time to come to terms with everything, but Lucian’s decision is the right one.”

Lucian nodded, relief flickering across his features. “Thank you, Svlyara. You deserve happiness, and I hope you find it in a way that truly fulfills you.”

Ulric’s shoulders sagged, and though he clearly wasn’t pleased, he gave a reluctant nod. “Very well. But know this, Lucian: the bond between our clans will remain fragile unless further efforts are made to mend it.”

Lucian’s gaze didn’t waver. “I’ll do what’s necessary to maintain peace, Ulric. But it won’t come at the expense of those I care about.”

As Ulric and Svlyara departed, Aeliana stepped closer to Lucian, her voice barely above a whisper. “That was… unexpected. Thank you for standing by me.”

Lucian turned to her, his golden eyes softening as he reached out to gently brush a strand of hair from her face. “There was never any question, Aeliana. You’re the one I’ve chosen, and I’ll always stand by you. No imprint mark, alliance, or past connection will ever change that.”

Aeliana smiled, her heart swelling with gratitude and affection. As they walked back toward the castle together, she couldn’t help but feel that, their bond was stronger than ever.

Lucian stood firm, his expression unreadable. “I’m engaged,” he said plainly, his tone leaving no room for argument. Ulric, however, wasn’t one to let an opportunity slip. “The last Demon Lord had a harem. There’s no dishonor in following tradition, Lucian. Power lies in alliances, and adding Svlyara to your house could only strengthen your position.” His words were deliberate, his gaze sharp as he tried to plant doubt in Lucian’s mind, invoking the weight of legacy and expectation.

Lucian’s eyes flickered with restrained irritation, but he maintained his composure. “If taking a second wife does not disgrace your clan, I might consider it,” he replied, his voice calm but edged with finality. “But hear me, Ulric—there are no guarantees. I am not my predecessors, and I have no desire to live in their shadow. I lead with purpose, not indulgence. My loyalty lies with Aeliana, and my devotion is unshakable.” His words were a quiet rebuke, a reminder that strength did not have to come from excess or the bending of principles.

Ulric studied him, weighing the conviction in his voice against his own ambitions. Svlyara, silent but visibly hurt, glanced at Lucian, her once-bright confidence dimmed. Lucian ignored her gaze, turning to leave. “This discussion is over,” he added firmly, signaling that he would not revisit the topic. For all the weight of tradition, Lucian had made his choice—a singular, unyielding path alongside Aeliana.