Chapter – 41
The early summer sunlight pierced through the window, filling the Viscount’s study with warmth.
Cassian Sarkis stood by the sunlit window, gazing down at the garden.
“Seems like it’s been quite some time, my little one. Every time I see you, it feels like you’re becoming more of a young lady.”
“Thank you, Mother! I’ll try to come by more often from now on! Just like old times.”
Ever since Damia Ponti had become part of his daily life, seasons seemed to pass in the blink of an eye.
Unlike the slow, labored beat of his heart, the time they spent together flew by exceptionally fast.
“I had wanted to throw a grand celebration for your fifteenth birthday…”
And now, Cassian Sarkis had turned seventeen.
Even though he coughed up blood every night, he stubbornly clung to life.
Two years had been enough to erase the boyish charm from Cassian’s face.
Now, standing on the boundary between boy and man, his eyes were weary and languid.
“It’s alright. A friend from the Kingdom of Rodion is visiting, so I’ll be spending time with them for the first time in a while!”
Damia Ponti had turned fifteen as well.
She still faithfully fulfilled the clauses of that ridiculous temporary engagement contract, keeping her place as his fiancée.
‘A friend from the Kingdom of Rodion? That brat’s coming?’
She still spoke so casually, words that could unsettle him completely.
‘If things go as they should, there’s probably about a year left.’
It had been quite some time since she had visited the Viscount’s residence. Lost in thought, Damia made her way to Cassian’s study.
In the Velotea Empire, one was considered an adult at eighteen. Cassian Sarkis in his previous life had died before reaching that age.
If everything unfolded as in his previous life, the perfect young viscount would die a year from now.
Just one year.
Damia bit her lip gently.
“Viscount, it’s me.”
She knocked on the door, and a pleasant, low voice gave permission to enter. The realization that Cassian was now nearing adulthood became clear.
“When did you arrive?”
Cassian was leaning against the sofa, reading a book.
His taller frame, broader shoulders, and sharper jawline—all of it made him look far more like a man than when they first met.
The sunlight created shadows that accentuated his already impressive face.
“Just now. Didn’t you notice me arriving?”
“No. The housekeeper might have mentioned it.”
“That’s strange. Earlier, when you were in the garden with Mother, I think I saw your reflection in the window.”
“…That didn’t happen. You must be mistaken.”
Even now, at seventeen, her fiancé was still incapable of being straightforward.
He still had that annoying habit of defending his pride over trivial matters.
“Really? Were you perhaps waiting for me?”
“Why would I?”
“You haven’t seen me much lately. You’re always busy, and I…”
“What is it you want?”
Cassian frowned slightly and slowly put down the book he was holding.
‘He’s been on the same page the whole time.’
It was obvious, yet he insisted on pretending to read.
“Do I need a reason to come see my fiancée?”
“……”
Cassian didn’t answer. Only his lips moved slightly as if hesitating.
‘What creative and irritating thing is she planning to say now?’
Damia decided to ease his concern.
“Whatever you say won’t really affect me, you know?”
“You…”
“Are you feeling alright?”
His face was still flawless, but the signs of illness were undeniable.
Pale skin contrasted with sharp, red eyes—his weakened heart made his features look fragile.
There was a strange, alluring charm, as though he could vanish at any moment, but the truth of his limited time was faintly visible.
In his previous life, around this age, Cassian had begun reducing his public appearances. Even the weekly summer tea parties at the Viscount’s residence became less frequent.
He had excused it by claiming he was busy with the succession of the Viscount title. At the time, Damia had believed him.
Now, looking back, it was probably due to the visible deterioration of his health.
‘It was around this time that Count Pavron approached Cassian.’
The count had ruined Damia’s father financially, leaving the girl without a home even before the marriage, and forced her to stay at his estate.
Though the count didn’t touch her, he would make her starve or insult her publicly, and even force her to make medicinal potions until her hands were raw.
In the past, Cassian had often visited the count’s estate to obtain those potions.
Damia remembered clearly the boy, once brilliant and radiant, growing increasingly frail.
“I’ve adjusted the composition of the medicine. It should be easier to swallow now.”
“Isn’t that troublesome? You could just have someone deliver it.”
“I know, but since you’ve been going out less lately, people are curious. It’s better if I handle it myself than risk word getting out.”
“Ask one of the servants or knights I assigned to the Ponti estate. They’re trustworthy.”
Two years ago, someone suspected to be a dragon had set fire to the Ponti estate.
Cassian had restored it to a proper noble residence, carrying Viscountess Sarkis on his back.
He had also provided capable servants and guards.
Damia hadn’t hidden from Cassian that she had revived the dragon herb. Over the past two years, they had both done their best.
Because the medicine had been administered earlier than in the previous life, Cassian’s health was probably better now.
Still, his body was slowly deteriorating.
Yet, relying on his innate strength, he participated in monster hunts and achieved remarkable success despite being a mere boy.
His overwhelming ability concealed his illness from everyone, but Damia knew the truth.
If he were truly healthy, these achievements would have been only the beginning.
“No, I’m busy too, so you don’t have to come just for that.”
“I know that.”
He tended to consolidate all his work and outings when feeling well, constantly proving that the main heir of the Sarkis family remained strong.
“But I wanted to see you at least under this pretext.”
Cassian bit his lip as if suppressing a laugh.
“Isn’t it about time to give up on me?”
He asked casually, as if regaining his composure.
“If that were possible, would you have proposed in the first place?”
“…Still, no.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t come by so often. Your mother should also start letting go of her attachment to you.”
“Viscount, if you keep saying things like that, I’ll really be upset.”
“What if I die before becoming an adult, just like you feared?”
A short, heavy silence followed. Damia looked down.
“That was just a child’s dream.”
“Why the sudden humility? Two years ago, you were so confident, claiming it was a prophecy.”
Cassian twisted one side of his mouth.
“I’ve loved you even then, Viscount. I often dreamed of you, and some of those dreams just happened to come true.”
“I see….”
“Then how did you know that the herbs would work against my curse?”
Cassian knew Damia had a reason she couldn’t reveal.
He chose not to press her, trusting her.
“Children have vivid imaginations. Being in adolescence, they have all sorts of dreams, I suppose.”
“Make sense of that if you can.”
Now, even if she spoke of the previous life, who would believe her?
Moreover, she couldn’t guarantee that Cassian wouldn’t die early this time.
All she could do was insist it had all been a dream and encourage hope.
“You’re still a child, Damia Ponti.”
That was a clear distortion of the truth.
Damia had grown enough in the past two years to radiate the grace of a young lady.
Her once painfully thin body had become elegantly slender, her pale cheeks now rosy.
Her finely crafted facial features remained, and her amethyst-like violet eyes drew the attention of everyone around her.
Due to her unusually melancholic aura for her age, noble youths her age would stop speaking and fixate only on her whenever she appeared.
