Chapter 3
“…Pardon?”
“Where’s all that blessed Lumière grace now?”
Clicking his tongue, he narrowed one eye and grabbed my wrist.
‘Wow, it’s seriously tiny.’
His hand was much larger than the average adult male’s, and mine was smaller than most kids my age. It looked like he was holding a toy.
As soon as he touched me, the wolves—still on edge—growled ferociously.
Whoa, calm down. It’s admirable that you’re trying to be brave with your tails curled like scared little hermit crabs.
‘This kind of contact is practically emergency medical care, okay?’
Surely my life expectancy increased by at least three minutes.
Suppressing a satisfied smile, I answered the man’s unspoken question.
“I didn’t starve, but I did eat very little.”
“How little?”
“Uh, about this much bread and two pieces of carrot. Sometimes a spoonful of soup.”
Using my free hand, I made a fist to show the size of the bread. His face hardened.
Fair enough. My fist-sized bread wouldn’t last three bites, and the carrot pieces were about the size of my pinky.
“That’s all you had per meal?”
“No, that was per day.”
“…Insane.”
With that handsome face, using such coarse language? I might actually go insane.
Should I be surprised, or is it just as expected?
The Duke of Bastion didn’t match the typical “noble” image.
Not arrogant, but dignified. He acted down-to-earth, yet his aura made him untouchable.
‘Actually, maybe this is the ultimate noble look.’
In a world full of pompous, boastful nobles, he was like a beam of light.
A lone crane, proud and lofty, walking his own noble path.
What? You think my opinion suddenly got more generous?
Well, first of all, look at his face. Second, I could feel my lifespan increasing—maybe even to seven minutes now. So let’s move on.
Duke Bastion gently held my wrist like it might snap, and asked gruffly,
“Is your temple on the verge of collapse or something?”
“No, not at all.”
It might be a small backwater cult temple, but thanks to William’s “secret side business,” we were fairly well-off.
He sold expensive goods and often received hush-money from buyers to keep it all quiet.
“So the temple forced children to starve?”
I shook my head.
Definitely not that either. What sort of cult makes its priests fast?
The priests and paladins of our temple chowed down on meat and booze like there was no tomorrow.
Only us “products” had our meals strictly limited.
“They said if I ate too much, I’d get fat and be unpleasant to look at…”
Who turned on the AC? I know it’s cold out, but there’s an icy wind blowing just around me.
Shivering under that mysterious chill, I heard a sigh from above my head.
I think he muttered something like, “Another stray…”
“Let’s go inside for now.”
Inside… where? A coffin?
Just as I tilted my head, my view soared upward.
Gasp! Duke Bastion had picked me up like I weighed nothing and began descending the mountain.
The wolves had to sprint just to keep up.
‘Wh-why is he so fast?! This is not a human pace!’
The speed was one thing, but being so high up made it terrifying.
If I fell from here, I’d probably go straight into a coffin. Without thinking, I clung tightly to his neck.
He hesitated for a moment, then—maybe it was my imagination—the pace slowed slightly.
“Your Grace?”
“What are you holding—”
“Ah! Wolves!”
We reached the mansion’s back garden, and everything erupted into chaos.
Knights on patrol pointed their spears at the wolves. I instantly raised my hands.
“Wait, wait! Please!”
“Who…?”
Surprised by a sudden child’s voice, they hesitated.
I took the opportunity to wave my hands and shout as loudly as I could.
“They won’t bite! Please don’t attack them!”
“W-what…?”
The baffled knights looked to Duke Bastion for answers.
I, too, gave him a pleading puppy-dog stare.
“Please don’t hurt them. They may look scary, but they’re all really sweet.”
“…Leave them.”
That’s all he said before hurrying forward again.
Phew. They are wild wolves, after all. Of course they’d look threatening.
Peeking over his broad shoulder, I raised my hand to the wolves following us.
“Sit!”
“Woof!”
“Be nice!”
“Woof woof!”
Nice. That should settle things.
Leaving the wolves sitting obediently in a line and the frozen knights behind, we headed toward the mansion entrance.
The estate was so big, it took forever just to walk from the backyard to the front.
‘Ooh… I don’t know much, but this place feels super expensive.’
From a distance, it had looked cold and dark, but up close, the mansion had a certain elegant charm.
Was it just the change in perspective? Or a trick of my own shifting attitude?
“Your Grace!”
Suddenly, a loud voice rang out from the mansion’s front entrance. A man with dark circles down to his lips came rushing out.
“You escaped through the window again in the middle of work!”
“I didn’t escape.”
“Yes, you did! If this keeps up, I swear I’m resigning—!”
The man, with messy dark-green hair, paused when he saw me.
We stared at each other for a moment before he smacked his forehead and groaned.
“Oh no, Your Grace… Kidnapping now?”
“Try using that head of yours for something other than work.”
“Just kidding! Just a joke!”
Clicking his tongue like he didn’t even dare joke properly, the man gestured toward me.
“So who is she, really?”
“Daughter-in-law candidate.”
“…Excuse me?”
Leaving the man completely stunned, Duke Bastion strode into the mansion.
Surprisingly, the interior wasn’t bleak at all. It was bright, elegant, and warm.
‘Huh. I expected some gloomy obsession-dungeon interior.’
While I looked around in awe, the Duke climbed the polished stairs and entered a second-floor room. Only once he reached a soft carpeted area did he finally set me down.
Wait… was it because I was cold and barefoot that he carried me the whole way?
If so, that’s… not very fitting of a so-called devilish duke.
While I was still unsure, he tugged a cord beside the fireplace.
Knock knock.
Soon, an elderly man in a tuxedo entered after a knock.
He didn’t even flinch upon seeing me.
“You called, Master.”
“Food.”
Despite the Duke’s clipped words, the old man seemed to understand perfectly.
“A meal for the young lady, I presume. Shall I prepare anything else?”
“Something warm to cover her with.”
“Understood. I’ll prepare a blanket and slippers in her size and light the fireplace.”
I couldn’t help but admire the old man’s insight. Truly, the pinnacle of butler-dom.
‘Say one, and he understands ten.’
Once the butler respectfully bowed and left, I gave the Duke a little sparkle of admiration.
He ordered food… and warm things… for me?
‘Maybe he really did bring me because I looked pitiful and cold!’
My brain started spinning fast.
Could it be… he’s not as heartless as the rumors say? Or is it just a weakness for kids?
Maybe, if I pretend to be sick… I could stay here longer?
Deciding to test it, I gave a pitiful cough.
I even had experience—this kind of acting once helped me escape the temple.
“Cough, cough. Oh, sorry… I think I’m coming down with something…”
“With that much holy power, you could take an ice bath and still be fine.”
“Che.”
Ugh. I hate clever adults.
Clicking my tongue in frustration, I saw the Duke smirk in amusement.
I gave up on pretending to be pitiful, but I wasn’t giving up on staying here.
After all, he picked me up not because I was powerful, but because I was young and pitiful.
“Take a seat.”
He crossed his legs on a long sofa—probably in a drawing room—and gestured casually.
Instead of sitting opposite, I ran over, placed my hands gently on his knees, and looked up with wide eyes.
“Can I… have hope?”
“What kind of hope?”
“When you said I’m a daughter-in-law candidate… can I be excited? Should I start booking venues and trying on wedding dresses?”
In my head, I’d already planned our retirement years together.
The Duke gave me a bemused look—half amused, half baffled—but not annoyed.
“There’s a chance.”
“I like peonies for the bouquet. Pink, preferably.”
“But the odds of it happening are low.”
What! I even shared my favorite bouquet design!
I grabbed his knee and wiggled it in protest.
He didn’t move at all, and the force just bounced me around.
“Duke, you know emotional whiplash is the cruelest form of torture!”
“Not really. There are much worse kinds of torture out there.”
Before he could offer to demonstrate, I quickly backed away from his lap.
He acted like he’d be easy to charm… and then hit me with a wall of steel. This hot-and-cold nonsense… what a dangerously sly man.
Warm to children, but not forgetting who he is.
‘No wonder they call him the unbreachable fortress.’
Just like its owner, the Duchy of Bastion had a dramatic nickname: Monster Dam.
Why such an awful name?
Because it was located at the continent’s farthest north, right next to the Forest of Lament, the only place monsters naturally spawned.
That meant monsters constantly flooded into their territory.
What started as basic survival training turned into elite knight forces and relentless monster hunts.
The land became more resilient than any other—and gained the nickname “dam” because it protected the empire from the monster tide.
If Bastion Duchy ever fell, the whole empire would be swarmed by monsters instead of water.
In the entire long history of the Amanta Empire, the Monster Dam had never once been breached.
‘Especially under this Duke, who’s known as a monster slayer. I heard he personally leads the hunt every year.’
Looking at the Duke now, reclining lazily, he felt distant.
Wanting to be part of this kind of person’s household… maybe it was a bit absurd.
“…You’ll regret it.”
“Hm?”
“If you let me go—you’ll regret it!”
I’m not someone to be overlooked!
