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Chapter 27
“Didn’t you say we should move my residence to the duke’s estate? Isn’t that… living together?”
“I only want a child like you to be safe. If necessary, I’m willing to protect you personally.”
“A child? Young Viscount, how much more adult are you really than me?”
“Are you asking because you don’t know?”
Damia let out a light sigh.
Just a two-year age difference, yet he still treated her like a child—how long was he going to do that?
‘Not that it feels bad.’
It was simply unfamiliar; she had never received such treatment even from her father.
“Anyway, thank you so much today. I wouldn’t have survived without you, Young Viscount.”
“It’s nothing. Protecting you is my duty as your fiancé.”
No matter how insistently he stressed not to misunderstand, she couldn’t understand why he treated her so well.
‘Isn’t this guilty? Acting in a way that’s bound to be misunderstood.’
Damia unconsciously bit her lip.
Though still young and sometimes childish in her behavior, Cassian was a pretty decent boy.
If Damia had truly been a thirteen-year-old girl, she might have fallen for him.
“Do you know something?”
“Now what useless thing are you going to say?”
“I think… Young Viscount, you’re actually quite kind.”
Cassian froze, and for a moment, silence fell between them.
“Anyway, you’re my fiancée now, even if it’s just temporary.”
“You mean the kindness comes from a sense of duty as my fiancée?”
“You understand well.”
The boy chuckled lightly, and Damia, drawn by it, met his gaze.
The faint moonlight cast pleasing shadows on Cassian’s sculpted face.
He looked more mature than usual.
Thump.
Damia flinched, glancing down at her chest.
Why was it beating so fast?
Seeing Damia frozen in front of the door, Cassian furrowed his brow.
“What are you doing? You must be tired. You should rest too.”
“Yes… I understand.”
Damia forced a calm expression and smiled awkwardly.
Yet her heart continued to flutter wildly.
‘It’s not because I’m excited. It’s just gratitude! He even saved me today.’
She absolutely didn’t want Cassian to notice this confusion.
The rusty hinges of the door squeaked unpleasantly.
Marquis Ponti’s estate was dark, and a cold stillness filled the silent mansion.
If anyone had noticed the daughter was missing, the entire estate would have been lit, and even the few servants would be bustling about.
‘Could it be that no one knows Damia almost got kidnapped?’
Cassian twitched his eyebrows.
‘Romi, that maid, said she would report immediately to the Marquis, didn’t she?’
Damia Ponti was only thirteen.
No matter how hands-off he was about another household’s affairs, he could not ignore such reckless negligence of a child.
‘If I hadn’t intervened, she would have been kidnapped. I really need to get her to the duke’s estate quickly.’
As he reviewed the plan he had thought was casual words from Damia, he heard light footsteps from the kitchen.
“Miss Damia… gasp!”
A maid, carrying a late-night snack, had been startled upon seeing them.
Not Romi, but one of the few servants still in the Ponti estate.
The maid seemed to recognize Cassian and couldn’t close her mouth.
“Where is your father?”
“The… Marquis, sir? I think he went to bed early because he was tired.”
Perhaps because the mansion was dark inside, the maid didn’t notice Damia’s unusual condition.
‘He’s just sleeping peacefully?’
Cassian gritted his teeth at the thought of how the estate operated. Even if Damia adored him, it was unexpected that a minor daughter of a mediocre marquis would boldly propose to Viscount Sarkis.
It was an audacious act, unlike her usually timid and inconspicuous reputation.
‘She might have fallen for me, but she probably wanted to escape from this place even more.’
Cassian felt a twisting sympathy for the girl he had come to regard like a little sister.
“Unbelievable.”
He barely restrained the urge to turn the mansion upside down.
“The young lady of this household almost got kidnapped, and yet nobody even knew.”
“…What?! Kidnapped?”
“Wake Marquis Ponti. He must meet me immediately.”
Cassian spoke in a very insolent tone.
Half-awake, Marquis Ponti arrived in the parlor and looked at Cassian as if he might faint from shock.
‘He must have been warned by the maid, yet he’s pretending to be surprised.’
The Marquis seemed more concerned about the young viscount’s discomfort than about his daughter’s unusual state.
Now there was no room left for him to be disappointed in his father.
“Young Viscount… what brings you here at this hour?”
“You really were asleep, weren’t you.”
Marquis Ponti rubbed his hands anxiously.
“Do you know that Damia nearly got kidnapped?”
“Eh? Kidnapped?!”
The Marquis’s jaw dropped.
This time, it wasn’t a theatrical expression; he looked genuinely shocked.
“Ha… did you not know when your daughter disappeared?”
Still trying to grasp the situation, the Marquis’s head throbbed in frustration as Cassian pressed his temple.
The Marquis rolled his eyes, unsure how to speak without upsetting the young viscount.
“Well… the butler didn’t say anything…”
“The very butler who helped kidnap Damia.”
“The… the butler? That can’t be true!”
The pale Marquis gaped.
“Would an innocent person run away?”
“Eh? Run away? Did the butler disappear?”
“They say there’s no trace to be found.”
Cassian’s guards had quickly finished searching the mansion.
The keen butler had already fled, leaving only Romi, who had been locked in the storage room.
It seemed Romi had tried to alert the household about Damia’s disappearance but was caught by the butler.
“No, that’s impossible. The butler has been loyal all his life… there must have been some misunderstanding!”
“No, Father. That man was planning to sell me to Count Fabron.”
“W-what? Count Fabron?”
No matter how much stake the father had in this kidnapping plot, his distressed expression looked genuine.
‘The butler held a grudge against my mother and wanted to ruin me.’
The vengeful gaze of the former butler was still vivid in memory.
Was this act solely by the butler? Did Father know about the issue between him and Mother? Or was it all the butler’s lies?
Damia wanted to verify with her father, but the words wouldn’t come.
At the Ponti estate, any talk of the late Marchioness had long been forbidden.
Even mentioning her fondly would ignite the father’s fury—a face still clear in her memory.
“Even if the kidnapping failed, I won’t ignore this. Anyone who tried to kidnap my fiancée will pay the price.”
“Y-yes, but I can’t believe the butler conspired with Count Fabron.”
“Do you not trust your only daughter’s testimony?”
At that sharp rebuke, the Marquis’s shoulders twitched as he tried to justify himself.
“W-we can’t accuse a count without evidence. I… was only worried the scandal would ruin Damia’s reputation.”
The Marquis’s thin lips quivered.
“First, we’ll find that butler and force him to confess by any means.”
The boy’s red eyes darkened more than usual.
At that icy gaze, the Marquis swallowed dryly.
“And at first light, we’ll move Damia to the Sarkis estate.”
Huh? He meant it?
Damia’s eyes widened in surprise.
“Eh? But… we’re not even formally married yet, what do you mean by that?!”
The normally timid Marquis raised his voice.
Her father seemed even more flustered than Damia.
