“T-That’s not possible.”

A chill ran through her and, without realizing it, Ilenia wrapped her arms around herself. The shawl draped over her shoulders could barely conceal the awkwardness of the movement.

Steadying herself against the rising unease — the unsettling feeling that the man before her might devour her whole — she forced herself to speak.

“Delphius is my benefactor and my first love. Whenever I needed help, he was always there to sort things out for me. So it’s not true that he ever threatened me, and I don’t regret this marriage either.”

‘Was that… enough of an answer?’

She looked at Daniel cautiously.

Then, unexpectedly, he smiled.

“…I see.”

Contrary to her fears, Daniel withdrew without pressing further.

“Ah, I prepared a gift, but in my excitement to see you, I completely forgot to present it.”

Daniel handed Ilenia a neatly wrapped gift box.

“They say these are good for expectant mothers, so Ariella and I chose them together. I hope they’ll be of some help to you.”

“Thank you. I’ll make good use of them.”

“Ilenia.”

Daniel paused just as he was about to stand and looked at her.

“…Is there something more you wished to say?”

“Don’t force yourself to understand only Delphius’s feelings. Just like with our mother… in the end, you’ll be the one who suffers.”

‘His mother… does he mean the former Lady Lukehardt?’

Ilenia recalled, dimly, that Delphius had mentioned her only once.

He said that several years had passed since her death, yet there was no sorrow or grief on his face, despite him being a family member.

In fact, there was a hint of anger.

But Daniel was different.

He spoke of his mother with deep tenderness, then smiled at Ilenia.

“I only sincerely hope that you won’t repeat what happened to her.”

Once the two of them stepped out into the garden, silence lingered between them for a while.

It wasn’t until they had boarded the carriage and the wheels began to turn that Daniel finally spoke.

“Are you satisfied now, Ariella?”

“I still don’t believe it.”

He wished she would be satisfied with this.

But she was not someone who gave up easily. She was the kind of woman who always did things her own way and lashed out whenever others failed to follow her lead.

If it weren’t for the Marquis of Calante’s prestige backing her up, he would have ended the engagement with such a vicious woman long ago.

“The way she’s so thin, yet claims to be pregnant… and that composed expression of hers… she doesn’t look like a sacred mother carrying a child at all.”

“If she’s not pregnant, then all the better. It would only delay her from overreaching—coveting a position far beyond her station.”

Daniel recalled Ilenia’s face.

Though she had tried to conceal it with makeup, she hadn’t been able to hide her gaunt appearance entirely.

It seemed the rumors of her suffering from severe morning sickness were not false after all.

‘It was a good thing I prepared that gift.’

Daniel recalled the present carefully placed inside the box and curled one corner of his lips upward. He only hoped it would serve its purpose well.

“More importantly, Lady Calante. There’s a restaurant nearby that I’m quite fond of—would you care to join me?”

“Ah, what should I do? I’ve been out for too long, and I’m starting to feel unwell. I don’t think I can go anywhere else.”

It was nothing like the Ariella who had been fuming with anger just moments ago. There wasn’t a trace of pallor on her face, yet Daniel accepted her words without protest.

“…Then it can’t be helped.”

Once Ariella made up her mind, she never went back on it. Daniel had no desire to waste time arguing over something that would change nothing, so he withdrew cleanly.

“I look forward to seeing you again, my fiancée.”

He took Ariella’s hand in his and lowered his lips to the back of it. His touch lingered, deliberate — as if he intended to leave a mark.

Afterwards, Daniel escorted Ariella to the Marquis of Calante’s townhouse.

As the seasonal estate was farther from the capital, she had chosen to stay at the townhouse for the night.

“I’m home.”

“Oh, Ariella—you’re back.”

It was the Marquis of Calante who greeted her first, before the butler even had the chance.

Upon hearing that his youngest daughter was coming to the capital, he left his seasonal estate and came to the townhouse himself, remaining by her side wherever she went.

His most cherished child: The daughter he loved beyond measure — Ariella.

Having had her late in life, the Marquis treasured her deeply. Consequently, she had grown into someone who was both arrogant and stubborn. Nevertheless, he continued to excuse her behavior, telling himself, “She’s still young.”

Even now, when she was old enough to be engaged — and soon to be married.

Part of the reason for this lay in Ariella’s fragile health.

From infancy, she had survived countless brushes with death, and each passing year was spoken of as a miracle. Because of this, the Marquis celebrated her birthday extravagantly, with fireworks to mark her survival and prayers of gratitude to the heavens. This only served to deepen the significance of her name.

Even now, long after his other children had married and left home, the Marquis’ excessive devotion to Ariella had not changed in the slightest.

“It’s been such a long time since you last went out! Are you unwell? Have you been injured? You even left without your guards — do you have any idea how worried I was? You should at least consider your father’s feelings.”

“Father.”

“Yes, my beloved daughter.”

“I want to get married.”

The Marquis of Calante, who had been reaching out to take Ariella’s coat like a footman, froze mid-motion.

“What are you saying? Surely you’re not speaking like this without considering your condition.”

Only a few days ago, his daughter had collapsed from the shock of the news—he remembered it vividly.

‘Who dared to fill this fragile child’s head with talk of marriage?’

He didn’t need to look far. His anger turned toward the man who had been in the carriage with her just moments ago.

“Who asked you to marry him? Was it the eldest son of the Lukehardt family?”

When Ariella remained silent, the Marquis’s misunderstanding deepened, and he flew into a rage.

“Ha! Just a few days ago, the Duke of Lukehardt suggested that we set a wedding date, but I rejected the idea outright. How could he even think about arranging a marriage for his son when your health is still so fragile, and when we don’t know when you might fall ill again? It was an insult to you, and I made that clear to him. So whatever that Lukehardt boy says, don’t pay it any heed.”

“No. Not Daniel.”

“…What? Then who is it that dared to propose to you?”

Ariella shook her head. Then she lifted her gaze, her eyes soft and pleading—enough to melt her father’s heart.

“Father… I want to marry Delphius.”

“What? Who?”

The Marquis of Calante would grant his daughter anything she asked for, but there was one exception.

“Oh, Ariella, my dear child. Speak sensibly. That man is already married.”

“So what? His wife is nothing more than the daughter of an insignificant family. Even if he divorces her, she wouldn’t dare make a sound.”

Ariella could survive in high society despite her arrogance and selfishness for one reason alone: she had the support of the Marquis of Calante.

But what about Ilenia?

Born into a worthless bloodline, she was destined to remain insignificant. Her very existence seemed to proclaim her insignificance. The name Lukehardt seemed a far too heavy a burden for someone like her.

Nevertheless, the Marquis of Calante did not give up easily.

He shook his head firmly and raised his voice.

“If it comes to divorce, then all the more reason it must not happen. How could I ever give my daughter to a man burdened with such a stain? Absolutely not.”

“Why do you hate Delphius so much?”

“That boy would already be dead if not for you! And instead of showing even a shred of gratitude for the life you saved, he runs wild like an untamed colt—what is there to admire in that?”

“That’s exactly why I said I’ll be the one to hold the reins.”

“Absolutely not. You think a master should step into the stables just to tame a single wild colt? That’s nonsense.”

The Marquis of Calante gently placed his hand on his daughter’s shoulder, as if she were something too precious to handle roughly.

“Ariella… that man is insane—someone who has handed his sanity over to a demon. Just look at his eyes. Every time that hollow gaze passes over you, it feels like something foul clings to you.”

“Father. Delphius is different. He was born from the womb of the former Duchess of Lukehardt—not some demon.”

“Not a demon?” He couldn’t recognize his own parents when he was a child, and now he walks around pretending to be perfectly normal. What would you call that if not a man who has sold himself to something wicked?”

At the Marquis’s raised voice, Ariella puffed out her cheeks in displeasure.

Very few people knew Delphius’s secret. The Lukehardt family had always been desperate to hide their disgrace, and at some point, Delphius himself started moving through the world as if nothing were wrong, concealing everything flawlessly.

Yes.

A monster pretending to be human.

That description suited him perfectly.

And yet, Ariella preferred him that way.

He was a foolish, broken creature, a grotesque doll she could manipulate at will and shape entirely to her liking.

As she half-listened to her father’s words, she remembered the Delphius she had once kept confined to her room, crumpled and helpless.

If he had no intention of divorcing her willingly, then she would simply give him a reason to.