Chapter 290 - : 290 Another peaceful day.

When Vivian said he would not become the patriarch, the change in the air was immediate.

The soft sounds around the table stopped all at once. The quiet clink of cups, the low conversation, everything stopped.

Everyone turned toward him.

Charlotte and Elena stopped mid-bickering, their attention snapping toward Vivian.

Charlotte's hand, which had just been resting near her plate, stilled. Elena straightened slightly where she stood, her expression shifting from playful to alert.

Edward paused with his sandwich still in his hand, halfway to his mouth. Salena, who had just been setting down a plate, slowly lifted her head and looked over as well.

All eyes settled on Vivian.

He leaned back in his chair, looking completely at ease, as if he had not just said something that shook the entire table.

"It's not possible for me," Vivian said calmly.

His tone was steady, almost lazy, like he was talking about something small and unimportant.

"It's really bothersome," he continued, resting one arm over the back of his chair.

"You should make Edward the patriarch. He can do the work."

His voice stayed neutral, without even a hint of hesitation.

This was not something he had just decided.

From a long time ago, Vivian had already made up his mind. He had never planned to take that position. To him, becoming the patriarch was nothing but trouble.

Too much work.

Too many responsibilities.

Too many people to deal with.

He knew exactly what it meant to become the duke of the family.

He would have to manage the entire estate, make sure everything ran smoothly, deal with disputes, oversee the people under their rule.

Then there were the visits to the royal family, at least twice every month, standing in those long halls, listening to matters that never seemed to end.

On top of that, there were the cases that piled up in the parliament. Endless discussions, decisions, arguments… things that would eat up his time day after day.

And for what?

Vivian had no interest in any of it.

In his mind, only someone who was either insane or loved working themselves to death would willingly take that role.

He wanted something simple.

He wanted to spend his days peacefully.

Staying close to Charlotte. Taking care of her. Watching over their child when it was born.

Spending time with his family without pressure.

Maybe growing vegetables in a quiet corner of the estate. Walking around the land without anyone bothering him.

And when he grew old, he could already picture it clearly.

A small cabin built somewhere at the back of their estate. The land was large enough to feel like its own world, with a small mountain, a calm lake, and open space all around.

A quiet life.

That was enough for him.

So what was even the need to take on something like being the patriarch?

Across the table, his father, Vined, stared at him.

For a moment, he said nothing. Then his brows slowly drew together.

"But you are the first son," Vined said, his voice not as steady as before.

There was a slight shake in it, mixed with something deeper… something close to feeling wronged.

"Why won't you become the patriarch?"

He had not expected this.

Not from Vivian.

For years, he had carried the burden of leading the family. The work, the pressure, the endless responsibilities, it had worn him down more than he showed.

Recently, he had already started thinking about stepping down.

Charlotte was pregnant.

Seven months already. She would enter the eighth month in less than ten days.

A child was coming.

His grandchild.

He wanted to rest. To spend his time watching the child grow, to enjoy his old age in peace. That was all he wanted now.

And the most natural choice to take over… had always been Vivian.

But now….

That same person had refused without hesitation.

"I'm sorry, father," Vivian said simply.

"But I can't."

His voice did not waver. He did not avoid his father's gaze instead he stayed firm.

Vined's expression tightened slightly, the feeling of unfairness growing clearer on his face. Slowly, he turned his head toward Edward.

"What about you?" he asked.

Edward froze.

He blinked once, then gave a small, awkward grin, as if trying to lighten the situation.

"Well…" he began, scratching his cheek lightly. "It might be better if you wait another twenty years. Once sister gives birth and the child grows up, you can hand the title over…."

"No."

Vivian cut him off immediately.

His voice was calm, but it carried a firmness that left no room to ignore him.

"You will become the patriarch."

Edward's smile froze on his face.

"What do you mean, brother?" he asked, his expression changing at once. "You were working for only a month…"

"No."

Vivian cut him off again, just as quickly as before.

"As the youngest, you must take care of the family. This is your duty."

His tone did not rise. He spoke like he was stating a simple fact.

Then, after a small pause, he added more calmly,

"And I'm not saying I won't help you."

As he said that, his eyes shifted slightly.

Charlotte was staring at him.

Her eyes were narrowed, her earlier sadness still there, but now mixed with something else….something sharper.

Vivian held her gaze for a brief moment, then looked back at Edward.

"In fact," he continued, "we all will help you."

He gestured lightly with his hand.

"Me, Charlotte, Salena, father… even mother."

His voice softened just a little, and a faint smile appeared on his face.

"Everyone will help."

He leaned back again, looking completely relaxed, as if he had just offered Edward something pleasant instead of pushing a heavy responsibility onto him.

"So take over the title, will you?"

The words sounded simple.

But they carried weight, lots of it.

Edward stared at him.

His mouth slowly fell open, his sandwich still forgotten in his hand.

*******

"You are a hypocrite, you know that?"

Charlotte's voice came from behind him as she changed into a loose white night dress. The soft fabric fell gently over her body, resting over the clear curve of her stomach. Outside, the night had settled in quietly, and the faint light from the lamps gave the room a warm, calm glow.

Vivian stood near the side, wiping his damp hair with a towel. He had just finished bathing, and drops of water still clung to his shoulders. At her words, he paused for a moment and turned his head slightly to look at her.

"Why am I suddenly a hypocrite?" he asked.

He wrapped the towel around his waist and reached for a comb, running it slowly through his hair. His movements were unhurried, as always.

Charlotte walked over and carefully sat down on the bed, one hand moving to support her stomach as she lowered herself.

"You convinced Edward so quickly," she said, looking at him. "But are you really planning to help him?"

Vivian gave a small nod without hesitation.

"Well, of course," he replied simply.

He finished combing his hair and set the comb aside before turning fully toward her. Then he walked over, stopping right in front of where she sat.

"Do you take me for an irresponsible older brother?" he asked with a faint grin.

Charlotte looked up at him, her expression calm but not convinced.

"You clearly are," she replied.

Without waiting, she leaned back and lay down on the bed, stretching her legs out over the mattress to get comfortable. One hand rested lightly over her stomach as she adjusted her position.

Vivian let out a soft chuckle at her words but didn't argue further. He moved to the other side and lay down beside her, his posture relaxed.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

The room grew quiet, filled only with the soft sound of the night outside.

Charlotte stared up at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting.

'It was strange,' she thought.

In many other noble families, things were never this simple. She had seen it herself. Fights over power, hidden schemes, even bloodshed just to claim the position of family head.

Even in her own family…

Her three brothers were all competing, each doing everything they could to become the next emperor. There was pressure, tension, and things left unsaid behind every smile.

Compared to that, this felt completely different.

Here, no one was fighting for power.

In fact, they were almost pushing it away.

It really was… a wonder.

How some people could run after power so desperately, ignoring everything else in the process.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as the thought passed through her mind.

Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Vivian lying beside her. He looked completely at ease, one arm resting behind his head, his breathing steady.

Slowly, she turned her head toward him.

Then she reached out her hand and placed it gently over his chest.

Her fingers rested there for a moment.

Then she snapped them lightly.

A soft, faint glow appeared around her stomach, forming a thin, invisible barrier that wrapped around the round curve protectively. The light flickered gently before settling.

After that, she shifted closer.

Her legs moved, sliding over his and loosely locking around them as she leaned into him, holding him a little tighter.

"It's really our luck that we turned out like this… right?" she asked quietly.

Her voice was softer now.

Vivian glanced down at her, a small smile forming on his face.

"Yeah…" he said.

His voice was low and calm.

He didn't say much more, but his hand moved slightly, resting near her as they stayed close like that.

The room remained quiet.

And just like that, another calm day came to an end.

********

A/N:

Hello dear readers,

With this, we have finally entered the final arc of the story. I truly hope you stay with me and see it through to the very end.

I also want to take a moment to apologize. This is my first novel, and I didn't have much experience when I started. I believed I would be able to remember every small detail as the author, but that didn't always work out the way I expected.

So if you've noticed any inconsistencies along the way, I sincerely ask for your understanding.

I'm learning as I go, and I promise to keep improving from here on.

Thank you for reading and supporting this story.