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Chapter 16
“What do you mean I forgot something?”
She truly had no idea.
Had what she said about not believing in trust without compensation offended him?
Or was he displeased that she decided Romy’s fate without asking his opinion?
“Why do you think you need to split your pocket money for this?”
“…What?”
“When you have a fiancé who has more money than he can possibly spend.”
“Wh–what?”
Damia’s eyes widened, but Cassian immediately turned his gaze to Romy.
“After looking into it, it seems that as a low-ranking maid, you don’t know much about the Marquess’s household. There’s no reason for them to silence you.”
“T-That’s a relief.”
“My mother has already sent a letter to the Marquess’s house. Your safety is practically guaranteed by House Sarkis.”
Romy nodded repeatedly, clearly reassured.
“So there should be no betrayal of my fiancée under the excuse of fearing for your life.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. I will serve my lady faithfully.”
“And…”
Cassian stared at Romy as if measuring something in his mind.
“I’ll give you exactly twice the amount Drury Soro promised.”
“What?!”
“Young Duke?!”
Damia and Romy cried out at the same time.
“T-That much… isn’t necessary… Just taking me in is already… more than enough… I’m grateful…”
Romy’s voice trembled, as if struggling to suppress her greed.
“Don’t make me repeat myself. Just because the suspicion was cleared doesn’t mean you’re pleased about it.”
“Th-Then why…?”
“I’m simply respecting my fiancée’s wishes.”
Romy’s eyes darted back and forth. She looked like she knew she should refuse, yet could not bring herself to give it up.
Remembering the Romy from her past life—who gathered gold coins like scooping up sand—Damia understood the reaction.
Still, she couldn’t rely on Cassian for everything.
“Young Duke, I know you want to do anything for me, but this much isn’t necessary.”
Though she tried not to show it, Romy’s shoulders visibly drooped.
“I know you have more money than you can spend, but wouldn’t it be better to save a little? I don’t like men who lack financial sense.”
“Ha.”
A short laugh escaped Cassian’s lips.
“You’re the one who’s bad at calculations, Damia.”
“Why me?”
“For the price of placing someone in this estate who will obey my words without question, this is cheap.”
Even his mocking smile was perfect—which made it all the more irritating.
Just as Damia was about to protest that he couldn’t use Romy as he pleased, Cassian stepped closer to her.
“Why are you coming closer?”
Instead of answering, he closed the distance between them.
“More importantly, if my fiancée wants it…”
“……”
“For someone who’s terminally ill, is there any reason to save money?”
His voice brushed past her ear. For someone on the brink of death, he sounded far too confident.
“You personally take care of the garden?”
“Yes. I told you before.”
“I assumed there was a gardener!”
There was no way a crumbling estate like this could afford one.
“Well, I’m happy you’re calling it a garden.”
Damia smiled proudly as she pointed at the flowerbeds and vegetable patch.
She had put in quite a bit of effort since returning, but it still didn’t look impressive.
“What have you planted so much of?”
“Lavender, violets, sage… um, what else was there?”
“So this is… your hobby, my lady?”
Romy looked around in confusion.
Unlike nobles who were interested in horticulture for beauty and landscaping, Damia was growing plants that weren’t particularly pretty.
“You’ve been getting your hands dirty for this?”
“Yes. I told you I needed help.”
“There aren’t even enough maids to clean the estate…”
Flowers, herbs, and even unidentified wild plants. Romy’s eyes moved quickly.
“My lady, this might be too much—ah, no. You saved me. I’ll do my best.”
Her gaze hardened with determination.
“What should I start with? Should I pull out those wild weeds first?”
Rolling up her sleeves, Romy pointed at a patch of purple wild grass as if preparing for battle.
“Stop, Romy!”
Startled, Damia blocked her path.
“I’m not dumping all this work on you. I meant we’d do it together!”
“You mean… you’ll continue as well?”
“Yes! And don’t ever touch that purple grass. It’s not a weed.”
“But if we leave it, it might spread uncontrollably.”
That was exactly what Damia wanted.
“It’s fine. You can water it sometimes, but don’t pull it out.”
Romy looked puzzled but didn’t argue.
‘Phew, that was close.’
Damia sighed inwardly in relief.
After proposing an engagement in exchange for the medicine, she had taken meticulous care of that purple wild grass.
In truth, it required little effort. It grew vigorously on its own like a weed.
‘Why won’t it sprout outside this estate?’
She had also learned something new in this life.
If anyone other than Damia touched that purple grass, it would quickly wither.
Not simply wilt—but dry up completely and crumble at the slightest touch.
She had discovered it by accident when her father suddenly tried to act affectionate in this life.
‘Did Count Pavron already know?’
Not long after her engagement, he had taken the estate from her father.
The shabby viscount’s manor was expanded magnificently under the name of Count Pavron’s villa.
‘He said he couldn’t stand seeing me idle and told me to at least help in the garden.’
It was harsh labor unfit for a future Countess. At the time, she thought it was simple spite—but perhaps there had been another reason.
‘He also made me prepare the medicine with my own hands.’
It had been unfair and exhausting, but Damia hadn’t been entirely dissatisfied.
She had wanted to find value in herself somehow.
‘Because of that hardship, I was able to help Cassian a little sooner.’
As long as she had that purple wild grass, making the medicine was simple.
Crush the freshly picked grass with a wooden spoon, add a few drops of morning dew to the juice, and—
“My lady! Is there anything else I should do?”
Romy’s voice pulled Damia from her thoughts.
“No. I’ll stop by often. It won’t be too difficult.”
“Yes…”
Though she answered politely, Romy still looked overwhelmed.
“It’s true. I’m good with plants.”
“Really?”
“Of course. Almost miraculously so.”
Romy looked doubtful, but it wasn’t a lie.
Damia stared at her fingertips.
No matter how motivated she was, she was only thirteen. Her thin body couldn’t possibly contain endless stamina.
And yet the vegetable patch and flowerbeds had flourished because any plant she touched grew astonishingly well.
They didn’t get eaten by insects. They didn’t wither. They even grew noticeably faster.
It was a talent she hadn’t known she had in her previous life. Was there some secret in her hands?
“In the future, I’ll make ointments, sachets, oils… and sell them.”
“What? You’re serious?”
“Yes. It’ll take time, but with that money, we can hire more servants.”
“Hmm…”
“I’m not joking. If it sells well, you’ll get a share too.”
“Really? That’s wonderful!”
“Right. So think about how we can sell them well. Give me plenty of ideas.”
Romy nodded enthusiastically. At the mention of money, she looked delighted.
‘If only I had one more helper like Romy.’
Just then, a thought crossed Damia’s mind.
“By the way, do you have any siblings?”
“I have an older brother. He’s a bit slow, but kind. He’s a mercenary.”
Damia might truly be fortunate. That was exactly what she needed.
“I need someone to help me until I come of age. Someone who can handle matters publicly.”
“I’ll contact him right away!”
She liked how decisive Romy was. Damia smiled in satisfaction.
“My lady! A carriage from the ducal house has arrived!”
The butler came running breathlessly—and Damia’s smile immediately vanished.
