Chapter – 38
“Thank you, Mother. Everything is so beautiful… it feels almost too much for me! But… there seems to be too much…”
The group of designers finally left.
Exhausted, Damia took a sip of the tea offered by the Duchess.
“Money is meant to be spent, Damia,” she said.
“Y-Yes, but I don’t think I could ever wear all of this in a lifetime,” Damia replied.
“Money must circulate. Those of us who are wealthy have an obligation to spend lavishly where it’s needed,” Elena said, as if giving Damia expensive things were her duty.
‘Seems like she’s noticed that things with the Marquis have been a bit off lately.’
Damia quietly swallowed a dry gulp. Casian had been avoiding her so fiercely that she hadn’t even seen his shadow these past few days.
‘We were supposed to be so in love that we got engaged!’
If you’re going to act, at least act properly!
“Has something been going on with Casian lately?”
Elena, who had been subtly showing her concern, finally asked. Damia swallowed nervously.
“Um… nothing in particular,” she said.
Elena smiled softly, as if she had expected that answer.
“I don’t understand why Casian’s behavior is so transparent,” she said.
“Ahaha…”
“It seems to me that he’s just so eager because he likes you,” Elena said.
That can’t be true at all…
Damia barely managed to suppress the words that almost slipped out of her mouth.
“Ah, yes… he’s been so kind,” she said instead.
“Then I’m glad you feel that way,” Elena said.
There was an almost knowing nuance in her words. She seemed to have noticed that Casian’s behavior had been strange lately, but she didn’t seem to doubt his feelings for Damia.
Is Casian pretending in front of his mother that he’s so in love with me?
“Even if he suddenly acts childish, try to forgive him,” Elena said.
“Huh? But the Marquis is usually so mature,” Damia protested.
“He probably feels that his feelings are stronger, which bruises his pride and makes him defensive,” Elena explained.
Damia forced a smile and took another sip of tea. She couldn’t afford to panic in front of the Duchess, denying everything.
“I’m glad that since you’ve come, Casian seems a little healthier,” the Duchess said.
She didn’t seem to intend to pry into their relationship; she only seemed concerned that Damia’s heart wouldn’t be hurt.
“I had almost given up hope, but it feels like a miracle that you appeared. I can’t thank you enough,” she said.
Her words carried a subtle double meaning. A strange premonition passed through Damia’s mind.
Does she already know that I’m somehow delaying Casian’s curse?
“No, I should be the one thanking you. Meeting the Marquis and you has been an even greater fortune for me,” Damia said.
“That makes me happy to hear,” the Duchess said.
“You know how much I like the Marquis,” Damia added.
That was half-truth, half-promise. Even if this contractual relationship ended, she wanted to continue knowing Casian if possible.
“Mother, um… may I ask something?”
Damia wanted to ask, even without evidence, how much the Duchess knew about her.
“Why?”
She stopped herself, unsure how to explain. The secrecy clause in the contract Casian gave her came to mind.
“Nothing. I’m just so grateful,” Damia said, smiling instead of answering.
“If Casian ever confuses you again, pay more attention to his actions than his words,” Elena advised.
Damia slowly nodded. Those words lingered in her mind. She couldn’t stay awkward with Casian forever. If there was a misunderstanding, it needed to be resolved.
Damia walked down the endless corridor, which looked like a bridal aisle.
The grand hall was filled with guests. An inexplicable sense of foreboding pressed on her chest.
Was it the white veil that blocked her view?
Wait… why am I wearing a pure white dress?
At the end of the aisle, a man was waiting for her. He wore wedding attire, but his face was obscured by backlighting.
‘The Marquis?’
He extended a bare hand, gloveless, which touched her skin.
The hand was wrinkled. A chill ran through her body.
“This time you thought it would be different, didn’t you?”
It wasn’t Casian, but Count Fabron. The man grinned with his teeth exposed, clearly satisfied.
‘Let go!’
She tried to scream, but no sound came out. She wanted to call for help, but among the countless guests, no one paid her any attention.
At that moment, cracks formed in the marble floor, and the entire space began to distort.
She felt trapped, like sinking in a swamp, unable to move.
‘Is this going to end the same as in my previous life? I worked so hard to change it!’
From somewhere, the sound of a bell tolled, marking the success of this dreadful wedding.
No matter how much she struggled, she couldn’t escape Count Fabron’s grip.
Through her tear-blurred vision, the Count’s face began melting like wax. Eventually, his form transformed into… a man who resembled Casian, yet felt somehow counterfeit.
A dragon mimicking a carriage driver. His face burned red and his smile stretched unnaturally wide.
“I’ve found you.”
His voice was unnervingly clear, as if whispered directly into her ear.
“Ah!”
Damia gasped, awakening in a cold sweat. A chill ran through her body, making her tremble.
It was just a dream, but the last voice echoed endlessly in her mind. It felt as if the dragon had really found her.
She pulled the blanket around herself, looking around. Darkness, familiar and empty, filled the room.
“….”
Her throat was parched. She reached for the water on her bedside, only to find it empty.
She thought about calling Romi but didn’t want to reveal her distressed face, so she refrained.
Damia struggled to rise and staggered out of the room. She needed something to drink to regain her composure.
As soon as she stepped into the corridor,
“Ugh… ugh.”
Her heart sank.
‘What was that sound? I must have imagined it…’
A sobbing voice came from somewhere, mixed with quiet whimpers. The pain was almost tangible.
Damia looked around. The sound came from the end of the hallway.
She slowly walked toward it. As the cries grew closer, her heart raced with an inexplicable premonition.
‘Ah.’
The footsteps led her to Casian’s room. Moans leaked from beneath the door.
Without thinking, Damia flung the door open.
The moment the door swung open, heat washed over her. The room was unbelievably hot for the early morning.
“What…?”
Damia covered her mouth and nose with her arm and approached Casian.
“Marquis!”
Casian writhed on the bed, caught between life and death.
His bangs clung to his forehead with sweat. When Damia tried to brush them aside, his skin felt ice-cold, as if no warmth remained in his body.
“Ugh… ugh…”
Casian thrashed in agony, as if being consumed by heat and poison.
“Stay with me!”
When Damia’s hand touched him, his breathing steadied briefly.
“You… why are you here…?”
His red eyes flickered with recognition.
“Get… out!”
He pushed her away, suddenly alert.
“There’s… danger… ugh, I think!”
The pressure that had been choking her earlier wasn’t a hallucination.
The room was filled with a strange, unfamiliar aura.
Could it be the curse of the Red Dragon leaking out?
Had Casian been swallowing and enduring this all along?
“I’m fine, Marquis,” Damia said, holding his hand tightly. Weak from pain, Casian couldn’t pull away.
“Why… are you awake at this hour?”
His red eyes flashed with resentment—unexpected emotion, but she could understand it.
“How often has this happened?”
“…….”
He said nothing, unwilling to show weakness.
“Marquis…”
Damia bit her lip hard. She had often seen him cough blood, but she had never seen him suffer like this.
Had he endured all of this alone? And he was only fifteen.
The thought stabbed her chest. Helplessness and frustration surged within her.
“…Go out.”
He tried to push her again, but Damia didn’t budge.
“The remedy you gave me… it’s here. Now… ugh, I’ll manage myself…”
Thump.
Something warm slid down her cheek. Casian’s expression instantly stiffened.
Only then did Damia realize she had been crying.
