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CHAPTER 07
I’m Not Your Little Brother, Duke —
“…Ah.”
Daphne was certain she recognized this coat. The feeling of the collar pressing lightly against her cheek was familiar. Perhaps her father had worn it when visiting the capital.
Whenever he came to see the siblings in the capital, he always hugged them warmly.
I always thought… he was far away.
In her previous life, not a single trace of her father had remained.
Even his necklace had vanished at the accident site and was never recovered. It had been something Daphne and Samuel had saved up to buy for him…
In any case, her father had only existed as a “memory.”
And yet, being able to feel his scent and texture so vividly now… made her strangely happy.
“Will you tell me?”
At Liam’s voice, she looked up. He was idly toying with a cigarette case on the desk.
“…The soap maker?”
“Hardly.”
He wore the same social smile he had shown earlier at the door—an expression he also used when offering condolences.
“I’ve been curious since the moment I first saw you.”
Still holding her father’s coat, Daphne stepped closer.
“How did you accept loss?”
He opened the cigarette case, gently rubbing dried tobacco between his fingers.
It was likely tobacco her father had prepared, one by one, for the late duke—since her father himself had never smoked in life.
“When I was on the slow train to Clotmore, I watched you. The entire time. I thought—you were a very spirited young lady.”
“…I had to be.”
“Because you didn’t want to give me your little brother.”
Daphne nodded slightly.
“That’s what I find strange.”
He set the case down and looked at her quietly.
“After news came from Emberhorn… honestly, I never believed it. Even now, I don’t. I can still smile and say ‘my condolences’ without truly feeling it…”
“So you haven’t accepted it yet.”
“I believe there’s still something unresolved between him and me. So I assumed he couldn’t possibly be dead. But you were different.”
He maintained the same faint smile.
“You act without hesitation, as if your father’s death is already a settled fact.”
Daphne faintly recalled her past self.
In the capital house she shared only with Lady Page, she would jump up every time the door opened, thinking her father had arrived.
On days when she saw the train from Clotmore arrive, she would even run to the platform, thinking maybe Father will get off this one.
That only stopped after a long time.
Countless disappointments finally taught her reality.
He is not coming. He is gone. She cannot meet him. Ever again.
So Liam was in the same position she once had been in.
“Duke Sloane.”
Daphne deliberately called him that. Liam lowered his gaze.
“…Cruel of you.”
He seemed to still reserve the title “Duke Sloane” for her father. Hearing it from others must have felt strange, and he likely just smiled through it.
“…I just want to be like you.”
“That takes time.”
“We don’t even live in different times. And you’re three years younger than me.”
“I turn eighteen next month.”
“Congratulations. More taxpayers for my territory.”
Asher, that annoying man, would have said the same thing. Daphne frowned slightly.
“So.”
Liam took a cigarette from the case and placed it in his mouth, unlit.
“You still won’t tell me your secret?”
“I don’t really have one. I just…”
Because she had gone back in time.
But she couldn’t say that. Instead, she smiled and reached for a match.
“If you hire me as your attendant, I’ll tell you.”
“…Devious. Never mind the fire.”
He raised a hand to refuse, and Daphne put the match down.
“You allowed me into this room, and yet you still ask for more.”
“I appreciate that much, at least.”
“Do you know?”
He returned the cigarette to the case and stepped down from the desk, facing her.
When Daphne looked up, his long silver hair fell forward, sharpening his features.
“A brief greeting alone isn’t enough to satisfy me.”
He placed emphasis on the word satisfy, reminding her of her condition.
“You are quite wicked, Your Grace.”
“I’ll take that as praise.”
“Then I’ll tell you one thing: stop your nightly walks and accept your own bedroom.”
“….”
Daphne had noticed something while working in this estate.
There was no sign that Liam actually lived in the warmly prepared “duke’s bedroom.”
Perhaps he couldn’t bear lying in a bed that had once belonged to her father.
“…Hm.”
As if acknowledging her point, he averted his gaze awkwardly.
“If it’s difficult, I can escort you back. As a provisional attendant.”
Daphne extended her hand.
“…Fine.”
He let her take it. His hand, only two years older than hers, had surprisingly many calluses.
“Let’s go.”
Daphne returned her father’s coat to its place and left the “Sutton” room. Liam followed silently.
She worried whether he had been sleeping properly since his father’s death.
If she had known earlier that he wandered the halls at night instead of using his bedroom, she would have tried to help.
They climbed the staircase reserved for masters of the house and soon arrived at the duke’s bedroom.
Daphne opened the door without hesitation. Liam still hesitated behind her.
“It would be better not to light the lamps.”
Darkness would help narrow his field of vision.
“Are you leaving?”
“Unless you need anything else.”
Daphne expected him to make some unnecessary request—just so he wouldn’t be alone.
She herself had once asked Lady Page similar things when searching her father’s belongings.
“Nothing I need…”
He glanced around the room with a restless expression, then slowly shook his head.
It seemed he intended to bear everything alone.
Daphne felt, suddenly, that he looked pitiful.
He appeared so composed—but he was only twenty, forced to inherit the heavy burden of a dukedom alone.
“If it’s not inappropriate…”
Daphne spoke carefully.
“I could stay until you fall asleep. As a Sutton.”
“As a Sutton… I like that.”
He nodded lightly.
“Then do that.”
Daphne entered the bedroom and quietly closed the door.
Liam walked slowly to the bed and lay down.
Daphne looked around for a chair but couldn’t find one in the darkened room.
So she sat carefully on the edge of the bed.
The bed was large enough that it didn’t disturb him.
“This is strange.”
he muttered.
“Of course it is,” Daphne replied.
“There’s a reason I keep Suttons nearby.”
“If you find me useful, I’m glad.”
“No.”
He shifted slightly and began idly touching the ends of her hair near her waist.
“You feel like you hold light. With you, I wouldn’t get lost anywhere.”
Daphne tilted her head.
“I’m sorry, but that’s incorrect.”
“So cold.”
“That’s simply the truth. It would be impossible to explain Suttons without silver hair like mine.”
“….”
“And Suttons are not guides. You must find your own path.”
She wondered if she had been too blunt—but it was the truth.
She couldn’t rewrite history just to make herself more comforting.
When she turned around worriedly, Liam was laughing into his pillow.
“Good heavens, Daphne Sutton… you’ve completely satisfied me!”
“I did say I would.”
Daphne answered calmly—but a faint sense of satisfaction rose in her chest.
Liam Sloane was a man of honor and pride.
If he declared himself “satisfied,” he would not take it back.
Then… she had truly become his attendant.
She closed her eyes, thinking of the exhausting days that led her here.
None of it had been meaningless.
She had achieved exactly what she set out to do.
