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CHAPTER 03
“My Younger Brother Is Not Allowed, Your Grace – ”
* * *
“This isn’t a dream.”
It took Daphne over three hours after leaving the lounge to realize that.
If it isn’t a dream… then what is this?
Her thoughts were a mess, but she shook her head firmly.
Whatever this moment was didn’t matter anymore.
I can’t let Samuel die! Never—never let him be dragged into that horrible fate again!
Even if it meant she herself would burn and die because of the oath.
I have to protect Samuel.
There was no time.
Soon, people from the ducal household would arrive, and Samuel would be taken to the duchy to serve as the young duke’s retainer.
“I have to send Samuel away.”
But how?
Samuel would definitely insist on attending their father’s funeral at the duchy. No amount of persuasion would stop him.
For now, Samuel going to the duchy is unavoidable.
If she forcibly stopped him, he might recklessly run there on his own.
…So I’ll send him somewhere else right after the funeral.
If only Daphne remained the sole Sutton in the duchy, the ducal house would have no choice but to take her as the retainer.
And if she fulfilled that role perfectly, they would not bother chasing Samuel.
As long as the remaining five years of the oath were completed, that would be enough.
* * *
“Is it really okay for us to travel alone? We don’t even know much about the ducal family.”
Samuel asked anxiously in the third-class carriage of the slow train to the ducal territory of Clotmore.
It was a reasonable concern.
Only five years remained in the oath.
Their father had believed he would be the last to bear it, and had carefully raised his children to avoid any connection with the ducal house.
He had wanted them to be free after his death.
Samuel had only seen the Duke of Sloane’s face after their father passed away.
Even Daphne, in her past life, had never properly seen him.
Only occasionally had his face appeared in newspapers—too blurry and monochrome to recognize.
His older brother… I saw him far too often. Well, they’re siblings, so maybe they resemble each other.
Daphne forced a bright smile and looked at Samuel.
He was holding a large bread bag prepared by Mrs. Page.
“Of course it’s fine! Hup!”
Acting confidently, Daphne lifted the large trunk. It was too heavy to place on the luggage rack in one go, so she set it on a seat for now.
“I’ll do it… You can’t even lift it properly, sister.”
“I can’t let something like this be carried by someone so delicate.”
“At least let me help.”
“Listen to your sister! You’re in charge of the bread bag. Stay right there.”
Samuel sat back down sulkily, clutching the bread.
Daphne chuckled without meaning to.
He had always been like that—thin and frail, yet always trying to help.
Even now, at fifteen, he was still just a small, skinny boy.
“Hup!”
She lifted the trunk again.
Just as it reached the luggage rack, she realized she was slightly too short. Standing on her toes, she barely managed to hook it onto the edge.
But then—
A passing passenger bumped into her back, and the trunk slipped downward toward her.
“Ah!”
A short scream escaped her.
“Daphne!”
Samuel shouted in panic.
Daphne squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for pain.
“….”
Silence.
Nothing hurt.
She slowly opened her eyes.
The trunk was still in front of her—but it wasn’t heavy anymore.
Then it moved on its own, rising into place on the rack.
“…?”
Clink.
Once it settled, Daphne realized something.
It hadn’t moved by itself.
A large hand in black leather gloves had lifted it for her.
She turned around slightly late.
There, standing behind her, was a handsome young gentleman.
About twenty years old.
For some reason, he felt familiar—but she was certain it was just an illusion.
All the nobles she knew had been introduced through her father, and none of them would be in third class.
She looked up at him.
When their eyes met, he smiled politely.
“Are you alright?”
“Yes… thank you.”
“I’m glad.”
Daphne briefly thought she should offer him some bread as thanks.
But the man tipped his hat and disappeared into the crowd, moving into another carriage.
“…He’s gone.”
She sat down, slightly disappointed.
“A kind stranger saved us. That was close.”
“I told you I could help…”
Samuel muttered, clearly annoyed.
Daphne shot him a sharp look.
“Don’t even think about it. You’re too small.”
“I’m not that much smaller than you.”
“Don’t talk nonsense.”
“Besides, anyone would struggle with a bag that heavy. What even is in there?”
“Nothing important. Just essentials.”
“What kind of essentials?”
“Your winter shoes, for starters.”
“Why are my shoes in your bag?”
Samuel protested, but Daphne continued listing items on her fingers.
“Your boots, raincoat, seasonal clothes, formal wear, and…”
Everything she mentioned belonged to Samuel.
He looked completely baffled.
“…Why didn’t you just pack my pillow too?”
“Hey! What do you take me for?”
She lightly smacked his arm.
“Of course I packed it. Along with your favorite knee blanket.”
“….”
“If you get cold on the train, tell me. Got it?”
“Uh… yeah.”
Samuel nodded reluctantly, and Daphne patted his head.
“I feel like I’m being treated even more like a child today.”
“What are you talking about? You’re fifteen. Of course you’re a child.”
“You’re only seventeen yourself.”
“I’m not a normal seventeen-year-old, anyway.”
Daphne glanced around cautiously.
An old man sitting opposite them was already asleep before the train even started.
“Listen carefully, Samuel.”
She lowered her voice so softly no one could hear.
“From now on, do exactly what your sister says. Got it? This is all for me. You’ll listen, right?”
Daphne had decided she would never say “it’s for you.”
So that Samuel would not blame himself later—when she eventually burned to death because of the oath.
“Actually… I’ve always wanted to become the duke’s retainer like Father.”
“…What?”
“So even if you wanted that dream, it doesn’t matter. The eldest of the Sutton family is me. You have to follow my will.”
“Wait, sister—”
Samuel tried to protest, but Daphne continued anyway.
“I will be the duke’s retainer. Not you.”
“Look, I understand what you mean, but the ducal family would never allow that.”
Retainers were always chosen to match the duke’s gender.
Female Suttons served female dukes, male Suttons served male dukes.
It wasn’t written in the oath, but this unspoken rule had never been broken in 500 years.
“It doesn’t matter. There are only five years left anyway. So, Samuel—”
Daphne grabbed his hand.
“We don’t know them, and they don’t know our faces either.”
“Daphne.”
“You will attend the funeral. But I will be the only one sitting in the family section.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I won’t let them see you. I’ll say you never came.”
Just then—
The gentleman who had helped her earlier returned and spoke up, looking somewhat troubled.
