Chapter 4
“Quite a novel method this is.”
Damia Ponti was feeling nervous in front of the old count.
Damia Ponti clenched her small fist to avoid shrinking back.
‘I must somehow buy time even if I anger that old count.’
Next time, she would force medicinal herb juice into the proud young duke’s mouth and secure the temporary engagement position.
“D, Damia! You, a child who only stays in her room reading books, what are you saying now…!”
Viscount Ponti, her father, widened his eyes. The steward fidgeted anxiously.
Both looked as if they wanted to immediately cover Damia’s mouth.
“Hahaha. Love?”
Then, as if surprised, Count Pavron burst into loud laughter.
“My daughter had a slight fever this morning, so she must be speaking nonsense…”
“It’s fine. Childhood romance is not a serious flaw.”
The father, who tried to cover Damia’s sudden behavior, stopped.
Count Pavron was smiling very kindly.
‘Uh? This is bad.’
Originally, she wanted the count to get angry and leave.
Even if he didn’t completely lose her as a bride candidate, it would at least buy time.
“The young lady had a cute, childish side.”
But the old count’s eyes still carried goodwill.
“Still, it would be better to learn the proper qualities of a noble lady.”
“…Count…”
“Well, you seem quite intelligent. You will soon become an exemplary noblewoman.”
As if truly looking forward to that moment, he rubbed his hands together.
“It’s impossible for me to enter the count’s family.”
The atmosphere turned cold.
“Actually, I already proposed to the person I love.”
“What? What did you say? You were proposed to?”
Viscount Ponti’s eyes opened to the limit.
“No, Father. Listen properly. I was the one who proposed.”
“I fell deeply in love with him the moment I first met him. If I cannot marry that beautiful person, I would rather enter a monastery and live single forever.”
“Damia, please shut your mouth!”
“I think I am visually very sensitive. So, I am sorry, but I feel no attraction toward the count at all.”
“Damia!”
The father was almost foaming at the mouth.
“Since you were being cute when playing around, I was willing to overlook it, but now you are trying to climb over my head.”
The smile that had lingered at the corner of Count Pavron’s mouth disappeared.
The count’s voice lowered a tone, and Damia’s hands began to tremble slightly.
This fear was learned from her past life.
And then…
“Isn’t it too cruel to force a young lady like me, who is even younger than my father, to marry a count older than him?”
Damia answered resolutely.
If she did not keep talking, fear would freeze her body.
“Father, what is going on with you? You even started attending tea parties you never went to recently. Are you lost in some strange fantasy?”
“Ah, the tea party is related, Father. I met him there.”
At that moment, the father’s face turned pale.
He must have suddenly remembered Damia boasting that she would bring a far better fiancé than Count Pavron.
“There is no boy more perfect than him in the entire empire.”
“You, you…!”
The father trembled as if realizing something.
“Child, you don’t mean you actually spoke to the young duke of Sarkis, do you?”
Please, say it is not that.
Damia felt as if she could hear the words her father could not bring himself to say.
“I believe you are not that insane…”
“Ah, you were exactly right just now.”
“Damia! Do you think the ducal house will leave someone like you alone if you overstep your place? Do you want to be tied up somewhere to wake up your senses?”
At her father’s roar, a faint interest appeared in Count Pavron’s cloudy eyes.
“I agree. Your daughter seems to need proper ‘discipline.’”
Remembering the countless “discipline” she received in her past life, Damia bit her lip and barely swallowed her curses.
“How dare you mention the young duke of Sarkis! Does that even make sense!”
Her father was desperate not to miss the chance to sell his daughter at a high price.
“Well, I thought so too.”
At that moment, an unfamiliar voice brought silence into the noisy room.
It was still slightly boyish, but low enough to be pleasant to hear, carrying the relaxed authority of someone who knew the weight of his words.
“Young Duke Sarkis!”
Black hair as dark as night and red eyes that instantly captured everyone’s attention.
Cassian Sarkis had a face with flawless, almost impossible structural perfection.
“Ah—no, Young Duke, how could you visit our humble family without prior notice…!”
Just by appearing, he was overwhelming enough to crush everyone around like mashed potatoes.
Even the quite handsome attendants who followed the young duke were instantly absorbed into the background.
Seeing that miraculous scene, Damia once again admired him in this situation.
“The viscount’s daughter has the talent to make such ridiculous things actually happen.”
It seemed that there were not enough servants, because the carriage of the Sarkis ducal family had crossed the fence without anyone noticing.
“Sorry for coming suddenly.”
Cassian was smiling, but he did not look even slightly apologetic.
“I originally planned to just greet and leave today…”
Cassian’s red eyes scanned Viscount Ponti, the steward, and Count Pavron one by one — a cold, contemptuous gaze.
“But I cannot ignore such an unpleasant sight as her fiancé.”
It was a slightly impolite but painting-like appearance of a savior