IPBYWT 07

Chapter 07

Because she obsessively avoided sunlight, Drury’s unusually pale white hand began to tremble faintly.

‘Who on earth is Young Duke Sarkis announcing an engagement to instead of me?’

Drury was the daughter of the prestigious and long-established House Soro, Marquess of Soro.

Using that halo of status, she reigned like a queen among her peers.

Not only in the West but across the entire Empire, there was no young lady more “well-matched” to the young duke than her.

The position of future Duchess of Sarkis was naturally supposed to be Drury’s.

‘What kind of ridiculous nonsense is this?’

She had worked so hard suppressing her nasty temper and pretending to be gentle and sweet in front of Cassian!

“An engagement all of a sudden? Isn’t that a bit hasty? It’s not like he’s about to come of age.”

“Exactly. Is there any reason to rush?”

“Ah, maybe he’s completely smitten with the girl? Even if they can’t marry right away, he might want to secure her as his fiancée as soon as possible.”

The boys whistled and snickered among themselves.

To Drury, it sounded exactly like they were mocking her situation. She whipped her head around and glared at them.

Startled, the boys quickly fell silent, belatedly reading the look in her eyes.

At the same time, the doors of the mansion opened, and the young duke and the duchess stepped out with perfect elegance.

But Cassian was not escorting the duchess as he always did.

“Who’s that beside him? Was there such a striking young lady before?”

Cassian was holding the hand of a doll-like girl with silver hair and violet eyes.

Soft gasps of admiration broke out here and there.

Much to her frustration, even Drury had to admit they looked like a painting together.

“What? Who is she?”

“They suit each other so well…”

As her peers murmured about the girl’s identity, Drury bit down hard on her lip.

There was no way she wouldn’t recognize her.

‘That’s Damia Ponti.’

The baron’s daughter who always wore ragged clothes and rarely attended social gatherings.

She had virtually no presence—yet if one looked closely, she was so beautiful it sent chills down one’s spine.

Drury had once secretly felt relieved that Damia Ponti looked shabby and painfully thin.

Drury had never intended to share the spotlight with anyone else.

“Why is she here…?”

The hand gripping Drury’s parasol turned white.

Cassian Sarkis looked at his temporary fiancée with a faintly tired expression.

“I am Damia of House Ponti.”

“Oh my, how lovely to meet you.”

“Yes, it’s embarrassing to say, but I am Young Duke Sarkis’s fiancée.”

Damia’s violet eyes sparkled with vitality. Though she appeared calm, she was remarkably smooth-tongued.

‘She said she didn’t want to stand in front of people and even asked me to reconsider the engagement announcement…’

On the very day Damia Ponti boldly proposed while holding his secret, Cassian had ordered his adjutant to investigate her background.

The fact that he was terminally ill was known only to his mother and a few loyal retainers within the ducal house.

‘I still can’t guess how my secret reached a mere baron’s daughter.’

Cassian did not believe for a second Damia’s absurd excuse that she had seen everything in a dream.

If anything, it would make more sense if this fragile-looking girl were an imperial spy.

The imperial family had long been wary of House Sarkis, the so-called master of the West.

‘I accepted that ridiculous proposal to keep her close and monitor her.’

But as a spy, she seemed too young, too small and thin, from an insignificant family, with no notable connections—nothing special about her at all.

“Miss Damia has become so beautiful I almost didn’t recognize her!”

“Perhaps it’s because the young duke promised her lots of money— I mean… love.”

Aside from her pretty face, quick mind, and unexpectedly bold nature.

‘What? She’s more useful than I thought.’

It was a surprisingly generous evaluation for someone as fastidious as Cassian.

‘Still, nothing changes.’

As long as his terminal condition remained unresolved, Cassian had no intention of entering a serious relationship with anyone.

He loathed the idea of some random woman acting as the widow and mistress of House Sarkis after his death.

This engagement, too, was nothing more than a contract with a fixed term.

‘She knows my secret, so I can’t leave her alone. And as a baron’s daughter, even if we break the engagement later, there won’t be much fallout. That’s the only reason I accepted her proposal.’

Perhaps his guard had dropped because the medicine’s effect had been too good.

That impulsive moment one dawn—when he woke in extreme pain and swallowed the medicine she handed him in anger—had brought about a miracle.

‘Her claim that she has a crush on me is annoying, but since she’s useful, I can tolerate it.’

Cassian clicked his tongue softly and nodded.

The girl deeply immersed in her hopeless first love seemed foolish—yet somewhat pitiful.

“Congratulations on your engagement, Young Duke.”

“You two look perfect together!”

Responding with a picture-perfect smile to the congratulations, Cassian’s mind remained tangled with thoughts of Damia.

“This is outrageous!”

After the tea party, Drury stormed into the Marquess of Soro’s study and shouted furiously.

Discarding her perfect-lady facade, her blue eyes blazed with anger.

“Cassian Sarkis announced his engagement! And not to me—but to some baron’s daughter!”

Hissing sounds echoed from the cages of pet snakes filling the study.

The snakes seemed frightened by the girl’s screaming.

“A baron’s daughter?”

“Yes! Exactly!”

Drury’s pale face flushed red with agitation.

She stomped her foot in front of her father, the Marquess of Soro.

“What kind of humiliation is this? You said Cassian Sarkis was mine from the day he was born!”

Her clenched fists trembled as she shouted.

“You promised that if I waited just a little, he would become mine! You said you had a way, Father!”

“Drury.”

“This won’t do! What if the young duke’s heart stops? I can’t just sit quietly and wait anymore!”

“Drury Soro! Watch your words!”

Whether or not the marquess scanned the surroundings with a grave expression, Drury could not calm down.

Her fury was so explosive that even the snakes in their cages curled up.

A few days later, Cassian visited the Ponti baronial estate.

The flawless young duke looked utterly out of place in the old, barren reception room.

“We need to write an engagement contract.”

“A contract?”

Damia, who had been admiring his beauty while sipping weak tea brewed from too few leaves, froze at the unexpected words.

Perhaps because of her past life, contracts only brought back bad memories.

The old count had treated her terribly while always saying everything was stipulated in the contract.

“Do we really need a contract? You already sent a formal proposal to my father. Ah, are you worried I won’t deliver the medicine on time?”

“It’s not that. I know you’ve been faithfully providing the medicine.”

Cassian glanced at the purple liquid in his teacup.

“By the way, how old are you exactly? You’re thirteen, right?”

“Excuse me? Y-yes, I am.”

Damia flinched at the sudden sharp gaze.

Why is he suddenly checking my age?

She replayed her recent behavior in her mind.

Had she done something suspicious?

“Thirteen…”

Cassian narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.

His red eyes, brighter than usual in the sunlight, seemed to pierce through her.

‘H-he’s suspicious of me, isn’t he?!’

Perhaps because of his status, the young duke tried to maintain a mature tone at all times.

Had it been a mistake not to deliberately act childish to match that?

“You…”

Damia wiped her sweaty palms on her skirt and waited for what he would say next.