Chapter 2

Before making such an outrageous proposal, Damia Ponti had her own circumstances.

“Steward, Count Pavron sent a marriage proposal for Damia?”

It was the typical ordeal faced by the pretty daughter of a declining noble family.

“Yes. Since the young lady is still young, he says an engagement would be enough for now. He promises generous financial support every year.”

“Hm…”

“The age difference is rather large, but the Pavron family has been wealthy for generations. And the count himself is known as a respectable gentleman.”

“Hm…”

“There probably won’t be a better match than this in the western region.”

Damia’s father, Baron Ponti, clicked his tongue quietly.

He’s pretending to think about it, but in the end he’ll sell me to that old man again.

Damia clenched her teeth softly as she recalled the memories of her previous life.

Count Pavron, who pretended to be a gentleman in public, was in reality a man beyond description in his cruelty.

Her marriage to him had been filled with endless humiliation and abuse.

I won’t be sold off as that old count’s second wife like I was in my previous life.

Even though she had returned to the body of a thirteen-year-old who couldn’t even run away in the middle of the night.

“Well, a man’s age isn’t really such a flaw. What did he say about the financial support?”

No, that’s a huge flaw! I’m thirteen, and he’s old enough to be my father!

She could no longer sit quietly and listen.

This time, she would not walk willingly into that hell.

“Father.”

Damia swallowed her disgust and smiled sweetly.

“Are you holding a meeting in front of me to discuss selling me to a perverted old man?”

“Damia! What kind of language is that? And perverted? Count Pavron is famous as a gentleman!”

“What kind of man looks at a thirteen-year-old girl and already wants her as his second wife?”

“Do you think becoming Countess Pavron is easy? You’re too young to understand, but this is the opportunity of a lifetime for you.”

Damia lifted one corner of her lips.

Her violet eyes gleamed coldly, making the baron and the steward flinch.

“I may have grown up without a mother and know less about the world than other children…”

“D-Damia!”

“But surely I’m not stupid enough to be happy about becoming an old count’s second wife.”

Well, the Damia of her previous life actually had been that stupid.

She had been a child who obeyed anything her father said just to be loved.

She had even smiled brightly when that old count told her to move into his mansion before the wedding.

The magnificent mansion looked like a princess’s castle… and Father seemed happy.

By the time she reached adulthood, her father had already taken a large payment from the count.

Even if she hated it then, she had no choice but to wear the veil and be dragged to the wedding.

That was in her previous life.

And…

Damia shut her eyes tightly.

Just remembering that terrible marriage made her feel sick.

“I will not marry the count.”

After taking a deep breath, she spoke firmly.

A cold silence filled the baron’s shabby dining room.

“Miss Damia, I didn’t want to say this, but… the baron family’s debts are quite severe.”

“…”

“And we may never receive such a good marriage proposal again.”

The steward spoke carefully, and her father nodded.

It wasn’t wrong.

In her previous life, the Ponti family had indeed gone bankrupt.

This time I’ll stop that from happening.

Damia’s violet eyes shone with determination.

“Father, don’t worry. I’ll find a fiancé far better than Count Pavron.”

As soon as she regained the memories of her previous life, she had gone to check the flower bed behind the mansion.

Everything was the same.

Even the purple wildflowers growing there, neglected and untended.

“Damia? You? How would you do that?”

Cassian Sarkis.

In her previous life, he had been so distant and high above that she never dared to even think about her.

This time, I’ll help him. And in return, I’ll gain my freedom.

Once Cassian personally experienced the effect of that purple wildflower—

no, that medicinal herb—

He would never be able to refuse Damia’s proposal.

Right now I have no evidence to expose the count. And I can’t even be sure Father would choose me over money.

So this was her only option.

“Please wait a little. I’ll introduce you to my new fiancé soon.”

Damia clearly remembered how quickly that young duke’s perfect life had ended in her previous life.

She already knew a way to delay his early death, at least a little.

When everything is over, I’ll break the engagement, take some compensation, and leave.

She was already sick of marriage.

But for survival and freedom, she could endure a fake engagement.

* * *

“It looks like the Ponti baron’s daughter was invited to the tea party too?”

“Wow, that’s harsh. She probably couldn’t even afford a new dress.”

Young noble girls whispered behind their fans, imitating adults.

Nearby, foolish young boys snickered as they looked Damia up and down.

Damia quickly pulled down her sleeves to cover her thin, bony wrists.

If she were truly a thirteen-year-old, she might have been hurt and cried.

But now, such things didn’t bother her.

“I can hear everything.”

Still, that didn’t mean she would just sit there and listen.

Damia smiled sweetly and shot back the remark, making the girls’ faces turn bright red.

Unlike the boys, the girls at least seemed capable of feeling embarrassment.

Where is Cassian?

While they continued whispering angrily, Damia’s attention was focused entirely on Cassian Sarkis.

The kind Duchess of Sarkis often hosted tea parties for children even in her previous life.

Especially during the short, sunny summer, there was almost a party every week.

It was a small social gathering for young girls who had not yet debuted and boys who had not yet fought real duels.

I rarely attended before since I had no decent dress and no talent for making friends.

Perhaps because her previous life had been so harsh, she could now laugh off small humiliations.

There he is.

Far away, by the lake, a boy was leaning against a large zelkova tree.

This was a party hosted by the Duchess of Sarkis, the mistress of the western social world.

The only boy who could behave so lazily here was Cassian.

It’s been a long time since I’ve seen Cassian Sarkis alive.

Especially the version of him before illness had begun to show—perfect and arrogant.

With every step she took toward him, Damia felt her breath tighten with nervousness.

Pull yourself together. Even the great Cassian Sarkis is just a child right now.

Damia steadied herself.

She had died once and returned to life.

Surely she could persuade one young boy.

Besides, she had practiced many times for this moment.

She had prepared a polite, rational, logical explanation for why Cassian should become her fiancé.

First, she needed to avoid making him uncomfortable.

“Ah…”

But the moment she finally stood before Cassian, all her plans collapsed.

Because the young duke shining under the summer sunlight was dazzling beyond belief.

Now that I think about it, I’ve always had a weakness for beautiful things.

In her previous life she had been forced to forget that after marrying the old count.

Hair as black as if it absorbed all light.

Blood-red eyes that captured attention instantly.

Flawless features without a single imperfection.

He was more beautiful than any masterpiece painting Damia had ever seen.

It’s ridiculous that someone with that face is destined to die young. I absolutely can’t let him die so early this time.

Such a perfect creation had to live as long as possible and pass down those excellent looks for generations.

Filled with an overwhelming sense of mission, Damia completely forgot the speech she had prepared.

“I’ll make a prophecy. Your brilliant life is about to fall.”

The words slipped out before she realized it.

Driven by a strange certainty that Cassian needed to feel this warning.

* * *

“So you’ll explain your value to me… and want me to become your fiancé?”

Ah, this was bad. She should have explained it more carefully.

Damia forced the corners of her twitching lips upward and tried to form something resembling a smile.

“What kind of expression is that? Are you laughing at me?”

Judging by Cassian’s reaction, the smile had completely failed. It seemed to have only angered him.

“Why would I laugh at you, Young Duke? That would be ridiculous.”

Although she still remembered being an adult in her previous life, having a younger body made it surprisingly difficult to suppress sudden impulses.

Still, the Cassian before her was a real boy.

He is immature, unable to hide his emotions well, and even somewhat naive.

“I told you already. It’s a prophecy.”

At this point, frightening him might actually be a more effective way to persuade him.