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Chapter 2
Before making such an impudent marriage proposal, Damia Ponti had her own circumstances.
“Steward, did Count Pavron send a marriage proposal letter to Damia?”
In other words, it was a common hardship faced by the pretty daughter of a declining noble family.
“Yes. Since the young lady is still very young, he said he would continue financial support every year if an engagement is formed first.”
“Hmm….”
“The age gap is quite large, but the Pavron Count family has been wealthy for generations. The count himself is also famous as a dignified old gentleman.”
“Hmm….”
“I don’t think there is a better marriage match in the west.”
Damia’s father, Viscount Ponti, clicked his tongue quietly.
‘Even if he’s pretending to think about it now, Father will probably sell me to that middle-aged man again.’
Damia gritted her teeth slightly while recalling her past life.
Outwardly, Count Pavron pretended to be a gentleman, but in reality he was an indescribably horrible man.
Her married life with him was filled with endless humiliation and disgrace.
“I can’t be sold as the second wife of that old count like I was in my last life.”
Even though she had returned to the age of thirteen, trapped in a child’s body that could not even run away alone at night.
“Well, age is not such a big flaw for a man. How is the financial support?”
‘No, isn’t that a very big flaw? I’m only thirteen, and he’s like my father’s age!’
She could not stay silent any longer. She would not walk into that hell again.
“Father.”
Damia swallowed her disgust and forced a bright smile.
“Are you planning to sell me to a perverted old man right in front of me?”
“Damia, what kind of manners are those? And perverted? Count Pavron is said to have a noble reputation!”
“Is it really sane for a man to already desire a thirteen-year-old as his second wife?”
“Becoming Count Pavron’s wife is not easy. You are still young, so you may not understand, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you.”
Damia pulled one corner of her lips upward.
When her violet eyes shone coldly, the viscount and the steward flinched.
“I may have grown up without a mother and be less knowledgeable about the world than others my age…”
“B, Damia!”
“But I am not foolish enough to be happy about becoming the second wife of an old count.”
Well, in her past life, Damia really had been such a fool.
She obeyed whatever her father ordered just to be loved, like a child.
She even smiled brightly at the old count who told her to live in his house even before marriage.
‘Because the splendid mansion looked like a princess’s castle, and because Father was happy.’
By the time she became an adult, her father had already received a large payment from the count.
At that time, even if she hated it, she had no choice but to wear a veil and be dragged to the wedding.
That was how her previous life ended.
And…
Damia closed her eyes tightly without realizing it.
Just remembering that terrible married life made her feel sick.
“I will not marry the count.”
After a deep breath, her words came out sounding quite determined.
A cold silence flowed in the old dining room of the viscount’s house.
“Lady Damia, I didn’t want to say this, but… the Ponti family’s debt is quite serious.”
“….”
“There may not be such a good marriage match coming again.”
At the steward’s careful words, her father also nodded.
It was not wrong. In her past life, the Ponti Viscount family really did collapse.
‘This time, I can stop it somehow.’
Damia’s violet eyes shone with clear fighting spirit.
“Father, don’t worry. I will bring a far better new fiancé than Count Pavron.”
As soon as her memories of her past life returned, she first checked the flowerbed behind the mansion.
Everything was the same.
Even the purple wild grass that was now neglected and grew carelessly.
“Damia, you? How?”
Cassian Sarkis.
The beautiful boy whom she had never dared to hold feelings for in her past life because he was too far away, too high.
‘This time, I will help him, and in return, I will gain freedom.’
If she personally experienced the effect of that purple wild grass—or rather, medicinal herb—Cassian would never be able to refuse Damia’s proposal.
‘Even if I try to expose Count Pavron’s true nature now, I have no evidence. And I am not even sure Father will prioritize me over money.’
So this was the only way.
“Please wait a little. I will soon introduce my new fiancé.”
Damia clearly remembered how quickly that young duke’s perfect life had ended last time.
She also already knew a way to delay his early death even a little.
‘Once everything is over, I can break the engagement and leave with some money.’
Marriage had become unbearable, but for survival and freedom, even a fake engagement was acceptable.
“Was the Viscount Ponti’s young lady invited to the tea party too?”
“Wow, that’s harsh. She probably didn’t even have money to buy a new dress.”
The young ladies whispered behind their fans, pretending to be adults.
Beside them, foolish young noblemen snickered while looking Damia up and down.
Damia quickly pulled down her sleeve to hide her thin wrist.
If she were really a thirteen-year-old child, she might have been hurt and cried, but now she felt nothing.
“I can hear you.”
Of course, she had no intention of staying silent either.
When Damia smiled and shot back, the young ladies’ faces turned bright red.
At least the girls seemed to know shame, unlike the boys.
‘Where is Cassian?’
Her mind was completely focused on Cassian Sarkis, regardless of their angry whispers.
The kind Duchess Sarkis had often hosted tea parties for children even in her past life.
Especially during the short, bright summer, parties were held almost every week.
A small social gathering for young girls who had not yet had their debutante ceremony and young boys who had not yet fought serious duels.
‘I didn’t attend much before because I didn’t have a dress to wear or friends to make.’
Perhaps because she had gone through such a harsh past life, she could now smile calmly at small embarrassments.
‘There he is.’
Far away, by the willow tree near the lake, a boy was leaning against it.
It was a party hosted by the Duchess Sarkis, who was called the master of western high society.
Only Cassian could lie around so carelessly like that.
‘It’s really been a long time since I saw a living Cassian Sarkis.’
And even more so, the perfect, arrogant young duke before his illness became obvious.
As she approached the boy step by step, tension made it hard to breathe.
‘Stay calm. Even the great Cassian Sarkis is just a child now.’
Damia forced herself to stay strong.
She had died once and come back to life, so how could she fail to persuade just a young boy?
Moreover, she had practiced many times for this moment.
She planned to explain very politely, rationally, and logically why Cassian had to become her betrothed.
First, she had to avoid making him feel resistance.
“Ah….”
But the moment she finally faced Cassian, all her plans collapsed in an instant.
The summer sunlight shining on the young duke was too dazzling.
‘Come to think of it, I was extremely weak against beautiful things.’
In her past life, she simply forgot it because she married the old count.
Black hair that seemed to absorb all light, blood-like red eyes that instantly caught attention, and flawless facial features.
It was more perfect than any painting Damia had ever seen.
“It’s impossible for someone with that face to die so early. I will never let you die that young this time.”
The strong sense of mission possessed Damia.
She forgot everything she had prepared.
“I’ll make a prophecy. Your Highness’s shining life will soon fall.”
And she blurted it out without realizing it, convinced that Cassian Sarkis needed to feel this warning.
“You want me to become your betrothed and explain my value?”
Ah, it was ruined. She should have explained more carefully.
Damia forced strength into the corner of her trembling lips, trying to draw something like a smile.
“What is that expression? Are you laughing at me right now?”
No, looking at Cassian’s reaction, the smile had clearly failed. It seemed to have only provoked him.
“Why would I laugh at Your Highness? That’s impossible.”
Even though she vividly remembered being an adult in her past life, it was harder than expected to control the rising urge because her body was young.
Still, unlike Damia, the Cassian in front of her was a real boy.
Still immature, unable to hide emotions properly, and even looking a little innocent.
“You said it already. This is a prophecy.”
If things had come to this, maybe frightening him would be a more effective way of persuading him.
