🔊 TTS Settings
~Chapter 93~
“Dain…?”
The moment Damian saw the daughter of Count McCreary carefully coming down the stairs, he unconsciously murmured Dain’s name.
Her hair color and eye color were different.
Dain and the daughter of Count McCreary were completely different people.
And yet, over the image of the young lady in the pure white silk dress, he saw Dain in a wedding gown. It was inexplicable.
The memory of the day he went wedding dress shopping with Dain flashed through his mind.
Seongmin was waiting in the groom’s seat when a staff member came out and drew open the heavy navy curtain of the fitting room.
Even though this was the fifth fitting, Dain stepped out still looking shy.
Seongmin stood up the moment he saw her.
“Dain.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t think I need to see any more.”
At those words, the slight blush on Dain’s cheeks deepened.
She spoke in an embarrassed voice.
“I like this one the best too, but the length is so long I’m afraid I might trip.”
The dress she wore was a neat, classic A-line gown.
As she said, the hem was so long that her shoes were completely hidden.
“Have you ever seen a bride fall hard on the wedding aisle? I haven’t. What if I’m the first?”
Finding her adorable, Seongmin laced his fingers with hers.
“If you trip, I’ll run over and catch you.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
“It’s not ridiculous. I can do it.”
When he boasted like that, Dain gave a small laugh but kept nervously touching the long hem.
“It’s really too long,” she muttered. Seongmin held her hand more firmly.
Dain’s eyes widened.
“I can do it, Dain. I’ll make it possible.”
“…”
“I’m your husband now—and your family. Trust me.”
“…Family?”
“Yeah.”
Her eyes grew moist, and tears began to well up.
“Then… I’ll have a place to run to when I’m embarrassed?”
“Yeah. If you fall, run into my arms.”
That’s what was so formidable about heroines.
Even when he didn’t want to, she could pull out memories he had pushed far away.
Without realizing it, Damian had taken a step toward the young lady, but his face darkened and he turned away.
He had planned to congratulate her on her debut with a smile since she was a strong candidate for heroine, but his facial muscles wouldn’t obey.
He needed some fresh air.
“Seong—!”
Mrs. Kim Si-eom had been watching him.
She saw Damian leave the ballroom toward the garden and quickly followed.
Looking around the quiet garden, she whispered,
“Seongmin, did you forget what I told you? Ask her for a dance.”
“Damian.”
At her son’s unhelpful response, she glanced around again and answered sharply.
She had told him clearly, but her willful son was frustrating her.
“You think I’m stupid? There’s no one around.”
“…”
“You should go to the count’s daughter. There were men swarming around her.”
“…”
“Hmm? Seong—Fine, Damian.”
Damian led her further into a corner. He spoke with difficulty.
“It’s not certain yet, but Duke Kenwolf or the count’s daughter is very likely the protagonist of this world. What I mean by protagonist is…”
He hesitated, wondering how to explain to his mother that this world might be from a novel—about main characters, supporting characters, and villains.
He finally laid out the details, including that he suspected either someone from the church or Duke Kenwolf as a potential protagonist.
But Mrs. Kim didn’t wait.
“So you’re saying one of them is the main character? And your reason for figuring out which one is so you can live comfortably?”
“Yes.”
“Hmph. Then what’s the problem? Stick to both. When it’s revealed which one’s the protagonist, go to them.”
She thumped her chest in frustration.
“And… the protagonist?”
“…”
“The protagonist’s position isn’t fixed. If there’s a protagonist’s place, you should take it.”
“…”
“If the count’s daughter is the heroine, then you should have her. That’s how you become the protagonist. Be more ambitious!”
This was why Damian dreaded talking to his mother.
His expression hardened like stone as he faced her.
Marie walked with light, expectant steps, thinking the Duke would be pleased to see her.
When she entered the ballroom, he wasn’t in sight, but she quickly figured out where he was—
Even as the young ladies danced, they kept glancing toward a certain terrace.
‘He probably doesn’t have an excuse to go in.’
When she entered the terrace, Ethan looked at her with a puzzled expression.
Smiling, she curtsied.
“It’s an honor to meet you, Your Grace. I’m Marie Hern from Baron Hern’s family.”
“…”
Despite her sweet greeting, his gaze turned cold, making her swallow nervously.
She quickly mentioned Riden’s name.
“Riden asked me to pass along a message.”
“Riden?”
His eyes sharpened. Marie bit her lip at the sound of his low voice wrapping around her pleasantly.
“She didn’t look well. She’s resting in the powder room.”
Ethan shot to his feet.
“You said… powder room?”
As he strode past her with quick steps, Marie hurried to speak.
“Your Grace! Riden didn’t seem to want to be seen unwell.”
“…”
“She said it was nothing serious, and she just needed to be alone for a bit.”
He stopped just before leaving the terrace and looked at Marie in silence.
Under his gaze, she spoke shyly.
“Actually, I also wanted to rest a bit, but since Riden wanted to be alone, I came out here. But… it’s a little scary resting on the terrace alone…”
“…”
“You know Riden, so I think I can trust you. May I stay here for a bit?”
Ethan didn’t answer. He remembered Marik shaking his head, saying there was a certain baron’s daughter sticking to Riden.
Then, music from the ballroom began again.
Marie shifted restlessly.
“Of all things, it’s my favorite song…”
Through the terrace’s glass door, the center of the ballroom stage could be seen.
Men and women filled the dance floor, gazing at each other as they swayed to a sweet waltz.
Then, Ethan moved.
He extended his long arm to open the terrace door. Marie’s heart swelled with anticipation.
When he stood before her and held out his hand like a gentleman, she blushed and placed her trembling hand on his.
“…?”
Ethan tilted his head.
“Yes?”
With a look of disbelief, he withdrew his hand and gestured toward the dance floor.
“Dance to your heart’s content.”
He was telling her to leave the terrace.
Her pupils shook endlessly at the unexpected turn.
She glanced out through the open door.
Feeling the side glances from others, she bit her lip.
Riden walked down the long corridor toward the ballroom, unfolding Glen’s note again.
The note Marie had left for the knight had a heart—one enclosed in a circle.
‘The manager.’
There was another transmigrator besides herself.
But the manager had gone on a trip with three of her in-laws—so why was she here?
No way…
‘Did she die, like me?’
Then… could the other three have…?