“…But for the duration of the contract, you’ll have to pretend that you and the Marquis’s daughter aren’t related in front of others.”

“…”

“Can you do that?”

The Duke’s question made me fall silent.

A sharp ache pierced my chest.

‘…Of course.’

Many people coveted the position of Duchess of Esperanza.

The more people desired something limited, the stricter the qualifications for that position would become.

For my mother and the Duke’s contract marriage to succeed, my mother couldn’t have a child—at least, not publicly.

If word got out that the Duke was marrying a widow with a child, the vassals and nobles would revolt.

The Duke knew this, which was why he was asking me.

“It’s necessary.”

I clenched my fists tightly and replied calmly.

My pain was meaningless, destined to be buried with me when I died.

Saving my mother was far more important than holding onto fleeting emotions.

The Duke tilted his head slightly and stared at me, his red eyes filled with meaning.

“What about you?”

His gaze seemed to pierce through me, as if he could see right into my heart.

Feeling uneasy, I quickly forced a smile.

“Of course, you have to protect me too. I don’t want to die being used by the Marquis.”

“…Hmm.”

“While you prepare for the wedding with my mother, I’ll stay at a nearby orphanage. After the ceremony, you can say you found an angelic child like me during your honeymoon and decided to sponsor me…”

“Pfft.”

The Duke suddenly covered his mouth with one hand and lowered his head. Stifled laughter escaped through his teeth.

The serious atmosphere I had worked so hard to maintain crumbled in an instant.

Watching the Duke’s shoulders shake as he tried to suppress his laughter made my stomach churn.

I frowned and tilted my head.

“What’s so funny about what I said?”

“Nothing. An angel? You?”

“Is it funny?”

“…No, not at all. Pfft.”

“If you think it’s funny, just laugh. Holding it in is more annoying.”

“Pfft, hahaha!”

Finally, the Duke burst into laughter, his booming voice echoing through the dining room.

I didn’t need a mirror to know my expression was souring as I watched him laugh.

…Was it really okay to marry this man to my mother?

—

Meanwhile, while Laviela and Jack were bickering in the dining room, Lucian sat perched on the windowsill of his room in the annex.

“…”

Bathed in the bluish glow of the moonlight, the boy sat with one leg propped up, his figure as graceful as a painting.

The silver glasses of the boy leaning his head against the window and gazing outside glimmered like jewels.

The silver eyes beneath his delicately drawn gaze shone as if crafted from moonlight.

However, Lucian’s face bore no expression.

He stared at the night sky before suddenly lowering his gaze to look at the brightly lit main building.

His red lips moved slightly.

“…When I only heard your words, I thought it was just an absurd old tale.”

The image of the girl he had seen during the day faintly surfaced above the window.
Lucian pulled up one corner of his mouth slightly, letting out a languid smile.

“To think someone like that actually exists.”

As soon as those words left his lips, light sparkled in the air, and a single purple butterfly fluttered its wings as it landed on his fingertip.

Flutter—

Every time the butterfly flapped its wings, light scattered like glittering dust, creating an almost fantastical sight.

As the butterfly fluttered, a voice—one that could not be distinguished as male or female—spoke directly into his mind.

—I had only heard that such things were possible, but I never thought I’d see it with my own eyes.

“Hm…”

For once, a rare glint of interest appeared in Lucian’s usually empty-looking eyes.

He stared at his other palm, the one untouched by the butterfly, clenching and unclenching it lightly.

“A cursed soul in this world, huh.”

[Excuse me!]

The image of the girl who had chased after him earlier in the day was still vivid in his mind.
The faint smile lingering on his lips slowly faded.

Lucian had never once in his life thought that someone resembled him.

But the moment he first saw the girl, oddly enough, Lucian finally understood the meaning of the words he had always heard: “That child doesn’t act like a child.”

“…Her eyes looked as if she were already dead.”

As Lucian muttered unconsciously, the butterfly flapped its wings in agreement.

—Do you understand now? Why I always nag you? You act like someone who will die the moment you achieve your revenge.

“Even if I deny it, you wouldn’t believe me. So what more do you want me to do?”

—Shut up, you sly little thing. Do you think I don’t know what’s going on in that head of yours?

As the butterfly began to nag in earnest again, Lucian let the words go in one ear and out the other, turning his gaze back outside the window.

“How much time do I have left, I wonder.”

[Wait, hold on…!]

Lucian hadn’t grabbed the girl, Laviela, earlier in the day for some trivial reason like flower petals.

The moment Laviela turned her body, he had felt the overwhelming presence of death emanating from her back.

Instinctively, Lucian had grabbed her wrist to confirm it, and he had felt the dark, ominous energy filling her entire being.

Additionally, he realized that the death lingering on the part of her body he touched had momentarily receded.

—You.

The butterfly stopped nagging and flew closer to Lucian.

It hovered right in front of his face and asked,

—Don’t tell me you’re feeling sympathy. Are you planning to heal her?

At those words, Lucian’s shoulders flinched ever so slightly. It was such a brief moment of surprise that even he didn’t notice it himself.

But Lucian soon let out a faint laugh, as if brushing it off.

“Are you crazy? There are countless people in this world who would tear me limb from limb and drain every drop of my blood if they discovered this ability.”

The words that escaped his lips were chillingly ruthless, far from what one would expect from a child.

Yet there was no exaggeration in them.

Lucian stared at the butterfly fluttering in front of him, then suddenly reached out as if to crush it in his grasp.

However, the butterfly calmly passed through his hand and flitted back into the air.

—What a nasty person you are.

“Shut up, you old nag.”

—No matter how much you want to kill me, you can’t get rid of me. How many times do I have to tell you? The power of the divine is absolute.

“…That’s exactly why you’ll never stop being an old nag.”

—What!

When Lucian smirked sarcastically, the butterfly protested vehemently.

Ignoring it, Lucian’s expression returned to its usual blankness as he stood up and drew the curtains.

With a soft swish, the room was plunged into complete darkness.

Lucian closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the comfort of the darkness.

“Master, are you there?”

Knock knock.

The sound of knocking broke his peace. His straight brows twitched in irritation.

But it wasn’t yet time to bare his claws.

At least, not until he had fully taken control of the Esperanza duchy and driven a sword into the hearts of those who had mercilessly slaughtered his family.

Lucian frowned slightly, but his voice was as gentle as ever when he responded.

“What is it?”

“Ah, you’re inside. The Duke is looking for you. He asked for you to be brought to his office.”

“…I’ll head there now.”

—

“Young Lady, you need to eat.”

The maid spoke in a polite tone, bowing her head.

But Gretel, lying on the bed, stared blankly out the window as if she couldn’t hear a word.

If not for the slight rise and fall of her chest, one might have mistaken her for a corpse.

When Gretel didn’t respond, the maid let out an exasperated sigh under her breath.

She raised her voice, urging her again.

“Young Lady, the Marquis said he’d severely punish all of us if this meal goes untouched as well.”

“…”

“Young Lady…”

At the maid’s desperate call, Gretel, who had been motionless like a corpse, slowly sat up.

Only then did the maid sigh in relief.

The ‘Young Lady’ she had been observing for days seemed like someone with no attachment to life, merely breathing and doing nothing else—not eating, not washing.

[The marriage proposal is soon. If her appearance is even slightly marred, you’ll all face the consequences.]

But since the Marquis Diarmuid had declared that Gretel’s marriage would soon be arranged, he had ordered the servants to maintain her appearance and force her to eat if necessary.

Still, if they grabbed her arm and tried to force-feed her, a scuffle might leave her injured, and the servants would bear the full brunt of the blame.

Caught between a rock and a hard place, the maid felt fortunate that Gretel at least responded to the words, “We’ll be punished if you don’t.”

‘Well, it makes my job easier, so I’m not complaining.’

As expected of someone personally selected by the head maid, Nichola, the maid neither pried into Gretel’s circumstances nor pitied her confinement.

All she cared about was how much easier her job had become.

“Now, take the spoon. Once you’ve finished eating, you’ll take a bath and get a massage.”

“…”

The maid set up a tray table on the bed and arranged the delicious-looking dishes on top.

Then, she forced the spoon into Gretel’s hand.

Gretel stared blankly at the spoon in her hand, then at the dishes before her.

Seeing the exquisite food prepared by the skilled chef—a sight she hadn’t allowed herself to enjoy for the past ten years—brought tears to her eyes.

“Libby…”