Chapter 32
“While we’re on the topic of your education.”
“My… education?”
So it wasn’t about the Moro tribe?
Not that talking about my education would be much better.
After all, I was the duke’s daughter who couldn’t even handle a fan properly.
“I heard you’re knowledgeable enough about the territory to be trusted with its management. You supposedly taught yourself by reading alone.”
“Ah, that’s… just because I had a lot of time to myself, so I read to kill time.”
“Books.”
My father stroked his beard as he stared at me.
“Duke Romero said something else too. He claimed you were clever enough that, instead of sending you off to marry or to a convent, it wouldn’t be a bad idea to name you as the next duke. He called that a suggestion.”
For a moment, I couldn’t even understand what he meant.
What did I say again? I’d just been spouting nonsense from the novels I’d read.
Flustered, I let out a weak, “Ahaha,” through my parted lips.
“Maribel.”
“…Yes.”
“You’re not ambitious for the ducal seat, are you?”
“Is that even a position one can have just because they want it?”
The words slipped out before I could stop them.
Mateo swirled his after-dinner drink and muttered,
“How strange.”
“…”
“My daughter, that’s the kind of thing only ambitious people say.”
“I think you’re imagining things. I… I’ve never even thought about that.”
That much, at least, was the truth that came from the bottom of my heart.
I’d never had big ambitions.
If I had any desire at all, it was to protect the happiness of my beloved younger sister—or something close to a sister—Gabriella.
And to escape from this world safely.
A duchess? What a bothersome thought.
Even at my words, Mateo only gave me a cold look.
“No matter that you’re the eldest of the Sephardi family, you will never be the duke of this land. Don’t even dream of it. You understand, I trust, that what I want from you—what you must do to make the Sephardi name flourish—has nothing to do with that.”
“Yes.”
There was no other answer I could give.
After a tense silence, Mateo spoke again.
“If a proposal doesn’t come easily, then create a scandal. That young duke acts with absurdly upright manners—almost obsessive. If rumors start, he’ll have no choice but to take you.”
A scandal?
The very word made my skin crawl before I could even react.
“Maribel. Learn to do your part. If you wish to contribute to Sephardi’s glory.”
You bastard—how could you say that to your daughter?
I bit the inside of my cheek to keep my lips from trembling.
It was disgusting. But even in this situation, I had to find some way to benefit from it.
After all, getting engaged to Arius was still a step toward securing my future.
“I understand what you’re saying, Father. In that case… might I ask you for a favor?”
“A favor?”
Mateo’s brow furrowed deeply.
He was not the kind of man who didn’t know that if you give one thing, you must take another.
He just hadn’t expected Maribel to be the one saying it.
“Yes, Father. If you intend to make Duke Romero your son-in-law, then you must grant me this request. Will you promise me that much?”
“…Let’s hear it first.”
Mateo leaned forward, and I exhaled softly.
It was time to play the card I needed.
Of course, the card I was laying down would only look like a bluff to him.
The back of Arius’s neck was perfectly straight as he climbed into the carriage.
He nodded politely but didn’t bother with small talk, so I was the first to smile.
“Have you heard that Princess Cecilia is unwell?”
“Is that so?”
“It seems the tea party’s been postponed until tomorrow.”
“I see.”
“She said she hopes you’ll still attend. I imagine you’ll receive the same letter soon, Duke.”
“Most likely. I haven’t checked yet, though.”
He didn’t even bother to hide the slight crease of annoyance between his brows.
It made me laugh, and I quickly covered my mouth.
“What’s amusing?”
“Oh, nothing. It’s just… you looked like you really didn’t want to go either.”
A faint blush crossed Arius’s otherwise composed face.
I didn’t want to tease the serious man too much, so I turned my gaze to the window.
“Ah, I must have been seeing things.”
I offered the excuse for him, and he gave a short, dry laugh before erasing it from his face.
Then I spoke again, half-smiling.
“I’ve heard that invitations from the royal family must never be refused.”
“That is the custom at court, yes.”
So that was true.
After receiving the letter, I’d gone straight to my head maid, Venta, to ask how to write a polite refusal—only to sit through an entire morning lecture on proper letter etiquette.
“Were you planning to refuse the princess’s invitation?”
“Well, I was. But since I was told I couldn’t, I didn’t.”
“Why?”
There wasn’t much of a reason.
“It’s hot out. I didn’t feel like leaving the palace in this weather just to have tea.”
“Even if it’s the princess’s invitation?”
Princess or not, it didn’t matter to me.
I was going to leave this world anyway.
Though I still didn’t know how.
“It’s… really hot these days.”
“You’ve had tea gatherings with your family before, haven’t you? The weather wasn’t much different then.”
That was true. If Gabriella had asked for a tea party, I would’ve said yes without hesitation.
Besides, Princess Cecilia—she hadn’t even sent me an invitation at first, and now suddenly wanted me there? That irritated me more than the heat.
I hesitated, then spoke softly.
“Don’t you ever just… get tired of it all?”
He lifted one perfect eyebrow instead of answering.
I sighed faintly.
“When you’re a duke’s daughter, if the royal family invites you, you have to go. Things like that.”
“You spoke quite conservatively about the Cantevia Treaty before.”
“That’s different. ‘Keep your promises’ and ‘Come when I say so’ are not the same thing.”
“…”
“And it’s not like I’m refusing some great duty. It’s just a tea party. Can’t I skip one of those?”
You’re the eldest daughter, so don’t complain.
You’re the broken one, so at least don’t cause trouble.
Behave. Learn to do things on your own.
I’d heard that endlessly.
When I turned twenty and went abroad, I thought I’d finally escaped it—but even in this damned world, it was hard to defy orders.
The pressure made my skin crawl.
“I know there’s no helping it, but sometimes I just feel that way.”
I’d wanted to change things here, at least. But even that seemed impossible.
Being a duke’s daughter meant having far too much to protect.
Of course, to this stiff-necked duke, it probably sounds like nonsense.
Expecting him to scold me, I leaned against the carriage window—
But Arius looked at me directly.
“I understand.”
“You… understand?”
“Is that really so surprising?” he asked, arching a brow.
I hadn’t said it seeking sympathy—it was just a complaint.
I stayed silent, and he continued slowly,
“But if you show those feelings too openly, it may cause you trouble.”
It was clear he meant it kindly, but I couldn’t bring myself to thank him.
Because his eyes—dark and lonely—looked like those of a wounded beast staring into the distance.
For a moment, I lost my words, then finally managed to speak.
“Whether I’m honest or not, I always seem to end up in trouble anyway.”
I said it playfully, hoping he might smile, and lifted a lock of my dark hair.
“Since I was born like this, I suppose being troublesome is inevitable, isn’t it?”
“That’s—”
“But honestly, I’m glad to be in the carriage again with someone I like. I can’t deny that.”
I understand, he’d said.
Those lonely words of his, somehow, had comforted me.
Trying to hide that, I changed the subject lightly—but Arius only shook his head with that serious expression again.
Honestly, he always got so flustered when I said things like that.
I was thinking that—admiring his handsome face—when suddenly the carriage lurched to a stop.
Arius shouted,
“What’s going on?”
