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Chapter 35
The last tea party of the summer ended with a slightly awkward aftertaste.
“Miss!”
As Damia stepped into the front yard, Luke waved both hands at her.
He had stiffened, seemingly overwhelmed by the scale of the ducal estate, but relaxed upon seeing Damia.
“You don’t know how worried I was when you suddenly moved your residence.”
“Didn’t Romi tell you?”
“They both think no news is good news.”
A perfectly ordinary sibling relationship. Perhaps they even got along rather well.
The two of them took seats at a small table set near the flowerbeds.
‘I wanted to meet outside to take a look around the village, too.’
Cassian had warned her it was dangerous but allowed Luke to enter the ducal estate instead.
Damia examined Luke carefully, frowning.
“What’s that scar on your face?”
A deep cut ran across Luke’s cheek. It had already started to heal, now covered with a scab.
“Wolves have been rampaging recently. I went on a hunting commission and… got a bit hurt.”
“Wolves? Luke, you’re telling me a wolf managed to injure you?”
Luke scratched his chin, looking embarrassed.
He glanced around to see if any servants were nearby and then lowered his voice.
“Actually… it was a bit strange to call it a wolf. Not just the size, but its eyes…”
“Were they red?”
Luke drew a sharp breath, surprised.
“No… how did you know?”
Of course. It matched her memories from her previous life. Damia’s heart skipped a beat.
It was undoubtedly the wolf-like monster later identified.
Red eyes meant dragon power—a trace of magic corruption. Animals tainted by magic either died or became monsters.
Only the Sarkis family was an exception. Their ancestor had slain a golden dragon yet survived without succumbing to magic.
Still, due to the influence of magic, their descendants were born with red eyes.
“There are rumors, whispered quietly, that it might be a monster. Though it appeared a long time ago.”
“Just because its eyes were red?”
“All the wolves had red eyes. And…”
Luke looked around before lowering his voice further.
“Actually, the wounds it inflicted are also strange. If left alone, they rot quickly. But on these wounds…”
He touched his cheek with one hand.
“The ointment you gave works perfectly.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Everything else had no effect at all.”
“Did you share it with others too?”
“Yes. And now they’re clamoring to get more.”
A faint smile curved Damia’s lips. Everything was going according to plan.
“Some are lining up to buy it even at a premium.”
“Is that so?”
“Can we get more somewhere? The batch you gave us is almost gone.”
Damia swallowed. Here’s where things got tricky.
Making more of the ointment required the herbs she had planted in the flowerbeds at the viscount’s residence.
Normally, she could have prepared it quickly, but now she was tied up at the ducal estate.
“Miss? What is it?”
“I’ll share what I have for now.”
The amount she brought with her was enough to meet the immediate demand—but not for long.
‘It might be time to head home soon.’
Damia quietly resolved to act.
After sending Luke off, Damia headed straight for Cassian’s room.
Since the butler’s body had been found in a gruesome state, Cassian had repeatedly delayed Damia’s return.
Though she knew it was overprotective, she couldn’t fault him entirely.
‘He said the dragons might be behind it.’
The mere thought sent chills to her fingertips.
Although she knew Cassian was fated to die from the golden dragon’s curse, he seemed to treat dragons as legendary beings.
Dragons… Had Count Fabron allied with them, or had he been manipulated as well? That remained unclear.
“Oh, Miss Damia.”
“Hello, Butler.”
She encountered the butler in the hallway. He came from a lower-ranking noble family that had served the Sarkis family for generations.
“I was delivering mail to Madam when I noticed another letter for you, Miss.”
“For me as well?”
“It appears to be a letter from your father in the Kingdom of Rodion. Shall I bring it to your room?”
“No, please. I want to read it right now!”
Only Arsen would have sent her a letter from Rodion.
“Understood.”
“Thank you!”
Damia quickly took the letter, unable to hide her excitement.
She had been in regular contact with her childhood friend Arsen, but something felt off.
Whenever her engagement was mentioned, Arsen now subtly diverted the topic.
And after she moved into the ducal estate, his replies had stopped for a while.
‘Doesn’t he even want to know how I’m doing?’
It had been quite a while since a reply had arrived. Damia’s cheeks flushed as she held the letter in her hands.
She wanted to read it immediately. Just as she was about to turn back toward Cassian’s room,
“Damia.”
Startled, she looked up. Cassian Sarkis was walking toward her, right in the middle of the corridor.
His cheeks were slightly flushed, perhaps from sparring with the knights.
His hair was still damp, freshly washed.
“Young Viscount.”
Damia froze in place.
Having just finished training, Cassian looked both tired and strangely satisfied.
His cheeks still warm, eyes relaxed. The languid atmosphere made him seem far more mature than usual.
“Perfect timing. I actually had something to discuss with you.”
He stepped briskly toward her. The scent of soap was strong in the air.
“…….”
Damia unconsciously bit her lip. She wanted to hide it, but her nervousness was apparent.
“I’m tracking the person who tried to mimic me, based on the information you gave me.”
Cassian began explaining, oblivious to her inner thoughts.
“There are too few clues to see how far this is connected. If I touch Count Fabron prematurely, they might cut ties immediately.”
“If Count Fabron is just a tail… that means there’s someone above him?”
He nodded slowly.
“I recently caught a spy who had sneaked into the ducal estate. They seemed low-level, but I gathered some useful information.”
“A… a spy?”
“Don’t worry. It’s safe now.”
“I didn’t know anything about this?”
“You didn’t need to. It would’ve just made you anxious for no reason.”
He seemed intent on protecting Damia in his own way.
Sometimes he acted childish, and she often forgot it, but Cassian was responsible at heart.
“Still, please tell me from now on.”
“Why bother? I deliberately proceeded without you knowing.”
“Knowledge is power, Young Viscount.”
Cassian clicked his tongue lightly, seeming reluctant.
He had always treated Damia like a child, but seeing her cry had made that tendency even stronger.
“And I don’t think I can stay here all the time.”
“What do you mean? Did someone make you uncomfortable?”
“No, that’s not it.”
Everyone had been excessively kind. Nothing was lacking, nothing was inconvenient.
Still, Damia couldn’t get too used to Cassian’s favor. She had things to do once she returned home.
“You were only supposed to stay until the butler was captured.”
“The dragons might be involved. It’s dangerous outside.”
“I can’t stay here indefinitely. Rumors might spread if I do.”
“We need to secure the viscount’s estate first. Fix the facilities, increase the guards.”
“That seriously?”
“Yes. First, we need the viscount’s cooperation.”
Damia was momentarily at a loss for words.
She had no idea how her father would take it. This was a completely different matter from an expensive gift.
Even under the guise of protection, it basically meant placing Cassian’s people inside the viscount’s estate.
Renovating the entire mansion could also be perceived as disrespecting her father’s authority as viscount.
“That might take some time.”
“That’s right. But what’s going on? You seemed excited.”
She looked up and realized Cassian’s eyes were fixed on her hands.
She finally noticed she was clutching Arsen’s letter tightly.
“Oh? I-I wasn’t particularly excited. I was just on my way to my room.”
Cassian had abruptly changed the topic, but Damia, still startled, didn’t notice the awkwardness.
Her mind was preoccupied with Arsen’s letter.
Even though she had done nothing wrong, she felt as if she might be caught in some imagined betrayal.
“What’s in your hands?”
A crooked smile formed at the corner of Cassian’s mouth.
