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Chapter 21
“Pardon? Right now?”
“Yes.”
“You’re saying you’re going to hold my hand all of a sudden?”
“I’m already certain, but wouldn’t it clear things up for you too if we confirm it in front of my physician?”
The black gloves fell onto the table.
Cassian’s hands—large for a boy his age, with long, straight fingers—were revealed.
“I was going to keep this to myself for a while because I thought you’d be flustered.”
“……”
“But you told me to be honest.”
“Did I… say that?”
Damia took a step back.
“You did. You even threatened to keep your distance if I didn’t tell you the reason.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I just, um…”
At last, life flickered in Cassian’s crimson eyes.
When he stared at her intently, she felt as though she had encountered a beast at the end of a dead-end path.
“Come here, Damia.”
“Ugh.”
“A man with little time left is asking you. Won’t you grant him this? You’re colder than you look.”
He strode forward and held out his hand to her.
“I’m a gentleman. I won’t ask anything unreasonable of you.”
A true gentleman wouldn’t call himself one, but still…
“Besides, holding hands before marriage isn’t such a big issue, is it?”
Damia bit her lip and glared at the young lord’s hand.
They had already shaken hands not long ago.
In fact, that time she had reached out first.
Back then, Cassian—who had promised not only an engagement but generous payment in exchange for her remedy—had felt like a very satisfactory business partner.
‘Why am I so conscious of it today?’
She only needed to take his hand as casually as before, yet her heart kept pounding.
“Hurry.”
“Young Duke…”
“Damia.”
Cassian subtly glanced toward the elderly physician.
It seemed he meant that, with someone watching, it would be strange if his fiancée recoiled too strongly.
“Fine. As you know, I like you very much, Young Duke… I was just so nervous that I hesitated.”
Very aware of the physician’s presence, Damia offered the excuse and accepted his hand.
Too embarrassed, she only caught the tips of his fingers.
“Ah, wait…!”
After a slight twitch of his brow, Cassian ended up taking her entire hand.
Was it the aftereffect of a heart that nearly stopped?
His hand was shockingly cold.
It was so cold—and beyond that, so embarrassing—that she wanted to pull away immediately.
But Cassian showed no intention of letting her go.
“……”
They were close enough for her to count his eyelashes.
As always, his face was flawless.
‘Why is my heart the one going crazy?’
Desperate to cool her burning cheeks, Damia forced herself to think of something else.
“…Huh?”
A low exclamation slipped from Cassian.
“Wh-what? You were mistaken after all, right?”
Instead of answering, he turned his gaze to the physician.
The kindly old man approached with his instruments.
‘It can’t be…’
She felt dizzy in a situation she had never imagined—not even in her past life or in her dreams.
“Young Duke, your heartbeat truly…”
The old man stammered with a moved expression and could not finish.
But Damia clearly understood what he meant to say.
Cassian was smiling as if he had expected it all along—a smile of satisfaction after a long wait.
‘Really? What does the dragon’s curse have to do with me?’
At that moment, Cassian pulled the hand he was holding toward himself.
Though there were only two years between them, Damia—smaller and thinner than most her age—was half-buried in his embrace.
“See? I told you.”
“That makes no sense…”
“It’s similar.”
He whispered into her ear.
Damia tilted her head at the sudden remark.
“Similar? To what?”
Cassian stared at her silently for a while.
He smelled of clean grass and earth. Had he spent time in the forest before coming to see her?
Perhaps because of that scent, she couldn’t move even though she wanted to look away.
“It feels similar to when I took the medicine you gave me.”
The grip of the hand holding her tightened—not painfully, but firmly.
Even his shoulders trembled faintly.
“That can’t be… That’s impossible.”
“What does that matter? What’s important is that it’s not my imagination.”
Unlike his usual indifferent self, his red eyes sparkled.
His tightly pressed lips seemed to hold back a smile of pure joy, and in those newly lively crimson eyes, she sensed a faint obsession.
Wait. Obsession?
‘N-no. This can’t happen. Really, absolutely not.’
This was a completely unexpected development—something that had never been part of Damia’s plan.
Flustered and red-faced, Damia fled home.
Even though she fanned herself continuously in the carriage, she couldn’t calm down.
‘I’ve become quite serious about this temporary engagement.’
Cassian had seemed unwilling to be separated from her even for a moment.
But deciding it was more urgent to rein in the overexcited physician, he had ultimately let her go.
‘What does it matter if someone with little time left becomes serious!’
Damia tried to steady her wavering heart, but whenever Cassian’s face came to mind, her ears burned.
‘At first, I suspected you. Of course, I still don’t fully trust you.’
When they were alone, Cassian had calmly explained why he had hidden the secret.
‘After observing you for a while, I became convinced that this phenomenon was unexpected for you as well. If you had ulterior motives, you would have tried to exploit it immediately.’
‘And?’
‘Well, even if you do have other intentions, I’ve acknowledged that in the end, I’m the one who needs you.’
He had smiled as if completely confident in his ability to control the variable that was her.
“You’ve returned late, Miss.”
“Eek!”
Damia shrieked in surprise.
In the darkness, the butler’s eyes gleamed.
“What is it?”
“The Viscount retired early, so I waited in your stead.”
“You usually don’t care whether I come home or not.”
“That is a misunderstanding, Miss. I’ve simply been busy managing the estate without a head maid.”
His tone was gentle, but barbs lay hidden beneath it.
“A letter arrived for you, Miss. Your friend has been writing rather often lately.”
“A friend? I only have one person I’d call a friend… Oh, don’t tell me Arsen already replied?”
Damia’s face brightened at once.
“You could have given it to Romi… but anyway, thank you.”
She reached out, but the butler slowly shook his head.
“Isn’t Romi practically someone the Young Duke brought here?”
“So what?”
“If Romi were to know, word might reach the Young Duke’s ears. That’s why I chose to deliver it personally.”
His voice turned insinuating.
“I cannot allow unnecessary misunderstandings to ruin the relationship between you two.”
“Misunderstandings?”
“Would the noble Young Duke be pleased to hear that his fiancée associates with a commoner boy?”
Displeasure twisted Damia’s eyes.
“The Young Duke isn’t so narrow-minded.”
“Is that so?”
“Arsen and I are just close friends.”
“Yes, yes, of course.”
With a sly smile, the butler handed her the letter.
“But… why is the mansion so quiet?”
As she took the letter, Damia looked around.
The estate had never been particularly noisy, but tonight it felt unusually silent, as if everyone were asleep.
“We had a thorough cleaning today. Since we’re short on staff, everyone must have been tired and gone to bed early.”
“What about Romi? She went into town on an errand for me.”
“She said she would meet a friend while she was out. She hasn’t returned yet.”
“She’s still not back?”
“You dote on her, so you don’t scold her, but she does enjoy playing.”
The butler’s smooth smile grated on Damia’s nerves.
“You look exhausted. Please go inside and rest.”
Objectively, there was nothing particularly suspicious.
And yet, she couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that something was wrong.
