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Chapter 10 …
Even after hearing his words, she couldn’t accept it.
Christine, who had been sitting there dazed, quickly went pale as she finally realized that he wasn’t talking about something as mild as a cold—it was a far more serious illness.
“Christine.”
Seeing her face, Seimon tried to reassure her.
“It’s still manageable. The medication works.”
“I told you not to lie.”
Christine’s voice turned sharp.
“You said it yourself. Terminal. That means it’s serious.”
Her clenched fists began to tremble uncontrollably.
Meeting her green eyes—staring at him without blinking—Seimon lost his words.
Yes. Terminal.
That damn terminal diagnosis.
He took another sip of wine before answering as calmly as he could.
“Yes. The doctor said I have at most six months.”
Though Seimon spoke expressionlessly, his voice was low and heavy. The tips of his fingers holding the wine glass trembled slightly.
The moment she heard it, Christine’s mind went blank.
Six months. Only six months? She couldn’t believe that he would disappear from this world in half a year at most.
She couldn’t breathe. Her chest ached, and her whole body shook. Suddenly, she pushed herself up from her seat.
The dishes on the table rattled loudly.
“Medical science has advanced so much—how is there no treatment? You’re rich. You should have forced them to find a cure somehow!”
A faint smile appeared on Seimon’s face.
“Sit down, Christine.”
“But!”
“So the elegant princess has become quite the gangster after a few months in the Republic.”
At his dry remark, Christine’s cheeks flushed for a moment.
She shook her head slightly in disbelief and lifted her brows, shooting him a cold glare.
“This isn’t a joke.”
“I’m not joking either. I checked everything. There’s no method. They told me to die.”
“Don’t say it like that.”
Christine’s voice trembled.
“…Yeah. I couldn’t accept it at first either.”
She couldn’t breathe properly. It felt like the world was collapsing.
This wasn’t right.
She had planned to raise their child away from Seimon, but hearing that the child would never even see his father’s face made her chest tighten painfully.
And although she still hated him, she had never wished for him to die like this.
Never…
Seimon, as if aware of her thoughts or not, slowly rotated his wine glass and spoke calmly.
“I said it before, but there’s no way for me to live longer. What I need to do now is prepare everything neatly before I die.”
As he lifted the glass and drank, his eyes flickered faintly with something distant. He seemed to suppress his emotions, his jaw tightening slightly.
“So I won’t leave any lingering regrets. I’ll finish everything cleanly.”
So that’s why he already wrote a will.
His voice was too calm for someone who was supposed to die soon.
“…Ah.”
But soon Christine noticed the faint trembling in his fingertips, and her eyes burned.
Even in the face of death, he was still trying to stand strong. That realization made her chest ache painfully.
Seimon Dayrte had lived fiercely—and even his death would be no different.
Seimon looked at her quietly and continued.
“What mattered most was the heir. My father is too old to take over. I even considered adopting someone quickly, but then an unexpected gift came along.”
Gift.
Was he calling the child a gift because it was precious to him—or simply because it was a useful heir?
Christine’s gaze darkened. She folded her hands on her lap and spoke slowly.
“The child has royal blood. If you appoint it as the successor of a major Republican company, the Republic will definitely oppose it.”
At her realistic concern, Seimon’s smile disappeared.
“They can oppose it all they want. This is my company, not theirs. And my father will have no choice but to accept the child once he knows I’m dying.”
He answered each point with calm precision, becoming the cold businessman once again.
An extremely rational man.
Christine lowered her eyes for a moment before looking straight at him again.
“What if I don’t give you our child?”
For the first time, Seimon’s eyes wavered.
After a moment of thought, he shrugged.
“Then I’ll beg you—even give you half of my fortune. It’s useless to a dead man anyway.”
“…You really are unbelievable.”
Christine bit her lower lip in frustration.
“Christine.”
Hearing him call her name so gently made her head hurt even more.
She didn’t know why she was so angry.
Was it because he was casually drawing a future for their child without her consent? Or because he was so calmly accepting his death?
She didn’t know.
“If that’s your reason, I still can’t accept it.”
“…Why.”
Her lips trembled.
“Are you insane? Don’t you care? Your life, everything you’ve built. You’re just going to leave it all behind?”
Her voice rose as she lost control.
“Everything you’ve achieved—do you know how hard you worked for it? And what about the child who hasn’t even been born yet?”
Seimon, who had been listening silently, frowned and covered his face with both hands.
Then he muttered quietly.
“I do… care.”
Christine didn’t hear it.
After taking a deep breath to calm herself, she spoke again clearly.
“I don’t care about money. I’m not like you—I don’t cling to wealth. And neither will my child.”
“Aha, as expected of a noble princess. Not interested in money.”
Seimon let out a small laugh.
“Don’t be sarcastic. This is about values!”
“I’m not being sarcastic. And the baby might get startled. Stop shouting, Christine.”
After she steadied her breathing, silence fell between them again.
“Here is your appetizer.”
A waiter, who had been waiting nervously from a distance, carefully broke the silence.
“Just bring everything at once.”
Seimon said casually, and soon the dishes were placed on the table.
He skillfully cut the meat and pushed it toward her.
Why is he like this?
The more gentle he became, the more complicated her feelings grew. Seeing Christine still standing, Seimon raised a brow.
“What are you doing? Sit down. You’re hungry.”
“This isn’t the time to eat.”
“There’s no more important time than now.”
He stood slowly and walked over, pulling out her chair with natural ease and a faint smile.
“While I’m still alive, I should take care of you and the baby’s meals. So sit.”
At those words, Christine’s mind went blank.
She never imagined such gentle words would come from Seimon’s mouth.
First provoking her with Duke Edditon, then confessing he was terminal, and now telling her to eat.
It felt like riding a broken train.
Unlike her emotional turmoil, he remained calm. It was strange no matter how she looked at it.
“Why are you doing this? Representative Dayrte? It doesn’t suit you at all.”
Seimon gently pressed her shoulder and made her sit, meeting her eyes.
With a gaze as though he might never see her again.
“I thought I should try acting like this. Before I die.”
“…Now?”
“Yes. Now. I want to change before I die.”
There was no trace of humor in his voice.
His sincerity pierced her chest. Christine reluctantly sat down.
She didn’t realize it yet.
She was already slowly melting into Seimon’s sincerity.
Perhaps that was why…
Christine found herself letting out a small laugh without meaning to.
