Transmigration: The Stupid Canon Fodder Falls for the Villain Duke

"Lucien, save me!" Ivy turned around, looking at Lucien with panic as she heard what the system said. She didn't have time to react, and before she knew it, she felt her chest turn cold. Something had hit her.

Lucien, beside her, quickly caught her, stopping her body from falling. He couldn't believe what had happened—someone had attacked his wife in his presence.

Ivy's eyes were closed as if she were asleep. Lucien looked at her face, frowning slightly. Would she be okay?

"What happened? Knights, seize the attacker!"

Lucien called out to his knights, who ran into the hall, standing beside him. Immediately, they scattered, obeying his command and moving in search of the attacker.

Lucien looked down at Ivy in his arms, his brow slightly furrowed. He moved his lips and said,

"Ivy, are you okay? Get up. Please wake up."

His voice was calm as usual, but it carried something else.

Ivy was annoying, stupid, and everything else. But something bad shouldn't happen to her. If anything bad were to happen, he should be the one to cause it—because Ivy had done many wrongs to him, and he should be the one to take revenge on her.

While he was looking at her, Lucien saw Ivy's fingers shaking—no, they were twitching. Then he looked up at her lips. They parted and closed slightly.

His hopes rose when he saw her body perform such actions.

"Are you pretending? I know you are pretending, Ivy, so wake up! Wake up!"

He held her chin, making her cheeks puff. He didn't use much force; all he wanted was for her to wake up. But it didn't happen. The only thing he saw was Ivy shifting her brows, and because his hand was holding her chin, her lips parted like a goldfish.

"All the guests, leave the premises! There's an assassin in the palace—everyone, be careful!"

A royal guard entered the crowd and announced. The announcement caused all the guests to panic, and without hesitation, they ran off.

The place looked like a swarm of ants as they fled.

"Nephew, where are you going?"

The king smirked, looking down at Lucien and Ivy in his arms.

Lucien looked up at the king, unaware of when he had arrived. Lucien's expression turned cold when he saw him.

If there was anyone Lucien hated the most, it was the royal family, despite being part of it.

A lovely family.

Sarcasm, of course.

Lucien carried Ivy in his arms, wanting to leave the king's presence. He had no desire to interact with him.

"To treat my wife. She's hurt," Lucien said simply, intending to leave. Informing the king of his departure was enough respect.

The worst would have been leaving without a word, giving the king a reason to exploit the situation.

"No, sorry, but you're going nowhere because there's still an investigation being conducted for the attacker."

The king smiled smugly and raised his voice to assert his authority. Lucien couldn't help but clench his knuckles as he spoke.

What was the king's plan? Lucien had his own home to return to, and besides, the king had allowed the other nobles to leave. Yet here he was, stopping him.

"Your Majesty, I was here with my wife, and you have the audacity to accuse me?"

Lucien said firmly, glaring at the king. The king saw the fire in Lucien's eyes but chose to ignore it.

"Sorry, nephew, but you need to stay for the investigation. If your wife needs treatment, do it in the castle. We'll provide a room for you,"

the king explained, adjusting the crown on his head. There was no way he would let Lucien leave today. He must stay in the palace, come what may.

Lucien's eyes were like daggers as he looked at the king. He knew the king was up to something but couldn't voice his suspicions or reject the old man outright—after all, he was the king.

The man was someone Lucien would spend his entire life battling.

"Instructions accepted, my king,"

Lucien nodded, holding Ivy securely in his arms.

"Rutor, let's go."

Rutor was Lucien's well-trained and personal guard. He was like a right-hand man—trustworthy, loyal, and someone Lucien trusted more than anyone in the royal family.

"Yes, Duke,"

Rutor appeared from the shadows, bowing to Lucien. He didn't even greet the king, showcasing his boldness.

The king frowned but chose to ignore Rutor's disrespect. Swinging his coat with a scowl, he turned and left. It didn't matter to him what Lucien and Rutor might say in secret. His mission was accomplished—Lucien wasn't leaving the palace, and that was all that mattered.

On the terrace, where the king stood watching Lucien and his guard, he muttered coldly, staring at Lucien with pure hatred in his eyes,

"Keep an eye on them."

His glare shifted to his son. His jaw clenched tightly.

Prince Levi smiled.

"I will, Father,"

he said, bowing. His father's enemy was his enemy. Anything his father wanted, he would see it done.

***

Inside one of the guest rooms in the palace, Lucien gently laid Ivy on the bed.

"Call Stefania for me, Rutor,"

he ordered, turning and taking a seat next to Ivy's bed.

"Yes, Duke,"

Rutor saluted, his voice sharp. He bounced on his feet before leaving the room, softly closing the door behind him so as not to wake the Duchess.

After Rutor had left, Lucien turned, staring down at Ivy. It felt like gazing into an abyss as he looked at her.

"My chest hurts... I feel cold... Am I dying?"

Ivy muttered, coughing weakly. She felt her chest constricting painfully instead of the normal rhythm of her heartbeat. Her eyes remained closed; she hadn't opened them to see who was with her.

Lucien observed her closely, taking in every reaction.

"Ivy?" he called, wondering if she was finally awake.

Instead of answering, Ivy let out another bout of coughing.

Cough, cough! She coughed fiercely, as though she might cough up blood at any moment.

"Ivy, you are not dying. Open your eyes and see who it is... I'm the man you claim to love,"

Lucien said, tapping her cheeks gently, calling out to her. He thought this might be another one of her dramatic acts. Since she enjoyed drama, he wasn't even sure why he said those words.

For a moment, something flickered in his eyes before his expression returned to normal.

"The man that I love?"

Ivy's eyes snapped open, her gaze meeting his, and a faint smile tugged at her lips.

"Are you Lucien?" she asked, her hand weakly reaching out to touch his face. Lucien's face twisted into a grimace.

He didn't know why, but he replied,

"Yes, it's me, Lucien. I see you're finally cured, so..."

He was willing to say anything ridiculous to keep her awake in that moment, even playing along with the drama she seemed to create effortlessly.

"Ivy... are you pretending to have fainted, or what?" he finally said, unable to help himself when he noticed how ov

erly dramatic her expression appeared.

Her face looked exaggerated, almost as if she were forcing herself to look ill.