TINOT 21

Chapter: 21

Celia, who had been standing behind Marquis Aster, peeked her head through the open door.

It seemed that Celia, having learned that Diamuid had visited the Marquis Aster estate, had hurriedly called the marquis over.

Unintentionally, Celia had ended up helping Lysteia.

As Celia rolled her eyes and scanned the reception room, her gaze halted when it landed on Diamuid.

Seeing him, she rubbed her eyes as if she couldn’t believe it, then tugged at the marquis.

The marquis lifted his head, confirmed Diamuid’s face, and let his mouth fall open.

Even they—who had looked down on him as a scarecrow royal, as good as a sinner—could not possibly ignore such strikingly handsome features.

Whether they were stunned out of their wits or not, Diamuid cared only that his target had walked in on his own.

“Stand. I was looking for you anyway, Marquis. This works out well.”

Only then did focus return to the marquis’s eyes, as if he had finally regained his senses.

“I heard something strange while speaking with my fiancée. Is it true that Lysteia resides separately in the annex?”

“…It was my daughter’s wish.”

“Ah, so you are a generous father who grants whatever his daughter desires.”

Diamuid let out a sigh, as if dumbfounded.

Since both Lysteia and the marquis were saying the same thing, it seemed true that she had moved her residence of her own accord.

But what did it matter whose will it was to move her to the annex?

There was someone else who had driven her to make such a decision.

If the youngest daughter—now peeking from behind the marquis—had made such a request, would he have accepted it?

Certainly not. He would have asked why she felt that way and tried to resolve the issue.

The reason Lysteia’s request had been accepted was because the marquis was indifferent to her.

He had no interest whatsoever in the true feelings hidden behind her request.

Though Diamuid had endured precarious days under the Emperor’s restraint, he had never been alone.

There had always been those at his side who would not spare even their lives for him.

But here, Lysteia had always been alone.

If one cannot share their heart with anyone, how is that different from a soul fallen into purgatory?

This was no place for a living person.

“Lysteia, how about moving your residence entirely to the Grand Duke’s estate? The marquis seems like someone who would grant whatever you wish.”

Half intending to rebuke the marquis, he suggested that Lysteia move.

Leaving this house had been part of Lysteia’s plan as well.

The Grand Duke’s estate was not a bad choice.

If she were nearby, it would be convenient in many ways for what they intended to accomplish.

The problem was…

“Your Highness, what outrageous nonsense is this? What parent casts out an unmarried daughter from the house!”

Marquis Aster shouted angrily.

The problem was the marquis.

By imperial law, even if a child was an adult, rights over an unmarried child naturally belonged to the parents.

“Watch your words. Casting out? Are you treating the woman who will become my consort as an object in front of me?”

Frowning in displeasure, Diamuid pulled Lysteia into his arms.

Watching that sight, it felt as if fire burst from the marquis’s chest.

He was the head of House Aster, which had produced the first magician of this land.

He was not someone to be disregarded like this by a grand duke who was royal in name only, nothing but an empty shell.

The marquis clenched his teeth to swallow his anger.

“Your Highness, Aster has not yet accepted your proposal. Therefore, it is unknown whether my daughter will become your consort or not.”

A child’s marriage was entirely under the authority of the head of the house.

If the marquis did not consent to this marriage, Lysteia would not become the consort of Grand Duke Cassius.

“Oh, really?”

Diamuid murmured as if to himself, a loose smile curling at his lips.

He loosened his cravat and brushed back his neatly arranged hair.

Ryan, who knew that this was what Diamuid did when he was truly angry, swallowed hard in tension.

As Ryan cast furtive glances at him, Diamuid pulled a sealed letter from his coat and handed it over.

“Ryan Dilton, deliver this to the marquis.”

“I receive the Grand Duke’s command.”

After bowing respectfully, Ryan took it, walked exactly three steps, and handed the letter to the marquis.

Receiving a letter while standing face to face, the marquis tore open the sealed envelope with a puzzled expression.

As he read it, his face turned a riot of red and blue.

“Ryan, deliver this as well.”

“I receive the Grand Duke’s command.”

When the same thing happened once more, the marquis’s hand trembled violently as he gripped the letter.

“Eric Aster, even now, do you not know whether your daughter will become my consort?”

Crunch—the letter in the marquis’s hand was crumpled beyond recognition.

His lips quivered as he struggled to contain his surging fury.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he spoke in a trembling voice.

“Your Highness, one does not send another proposal before receiving the other party’s reply. This action violates propriety.”

Only then did those present realize what was happening and let out short gasps of shock.

What the Grand Duke Cassius had sent were the second and final third proposals.

There was a custom that a royal’s final proposal could not be refused, but it was an old and worn tradition.

It was rarely used to force a marriage.

In the first place, repeated proposals themselves could become a form of intimidation, so if refused twice, one was meant to withdraw gracefully.

Moreover, Marquis Aster had not yet responded to the first proposal.

Under such circumstances, the second and third sent so rashly would hardly be recognized as formal procedure.

It was clear that Grand Duke Cassius had dragged out an outdated custom merely to insult the marquis by speaking of “my consort.”

Beaten again and again by the young grand duke, the marquis could not suppress his boiling indignation.

“This—this cannot be. I will file a formal protest.”

Unlike the marquis, whose body trembled uncontrollably, the Grand Duke’s anger was quiet.

Even his voice, filled with a faint smile, remained calm.

“What will you protest? There is only one answer you can give to my proposal. There is not a single flaw in my action.”

“How can there be no flaw in a reckless proposal that goes against the will of the other party!”

“Then were you truly intending to refuse my proposal? Marquis, have you forgotten whose will this marriage serves?”

“Th-that is….”

The marquis stammered, unable to continue.

As the Grand Duke said, he had never intended to oppose this proposal to the extent of defying the Emperor’s will.

To Eric Aster, Lysteia’s marriage was not important enough to risk such danger.

“Do not answer. I do not wish to hear your reply to the proposal in such a disgraceful setting.”

Yet when even his chance to respond was cut off with a casual gesture, stubborn pride flared within him.

He could not retreat like this.

Otherwise, he would bear the disgrace of having been trampled by a mere young grand duke.

“…Even if Your Highness and my daughter become engaged, nothing will change until the marriage. Rights over an unmarried child belong to the parents.”

Yes, this quarrel had begun over that absurd nonsense of taking Lysteia to the Grand Duke’s estate.

An unmarried child was undeniably the parents’ possession.

In this matter, at least, he could never lose.

Revived with confidence, the marquis looked triumphant.

Diamuid gazed at him for a long moment, troubled.

His expression was complicated—somewhere between hollow and faintly sorrowful.

“Marquis, you truly seem to have no idea what the problem is. My demand has been only one from the beginning to the end: treat Lysteia in a manner befitting her position.”

Diamuid’s purpose had never been to win a fight against the marquis.

He wanted to speak about the injustice Lysteia had endured.

But from the very beginning, the marquis had not cared about Lysteia at all.

To him, all this was merely a contest of wills with a young grand duke.

Diamuid felt despair at the marquis’s foolishness.

“Yet you claim only ownership over your daughter in response to my pointing out your faults. The fact that unmarried children belong to their parents means they are to be protected and cherished—not wielded and oppressed.”

He neglects his duties as a parent while insisting on his rights.

He ignores the call to care for his child, yet grows furious when told to relinquish her.

Diamuid could guess where such duplicity stemmed from.

Perhaps to the marquis, Lysteia was merely a child he had no choice but to keep because of others’ eyes.

He likely thought that raising her without abandoning her was duty enough—so to have his parenting criticized felt outrageous and angering.

As if he had extended a debtor’s repayment deadline only to be cursed in return.

But was that truly the mindset of a parent?

“Why on earth….”

Diamuid swallowed the countless words that threatened to spill out.

The marquis would not understand even if he heard them, and Lysteia would be pained simply by listening.

In any case, the marquis was not someone who would change no matter what he heard.

Diamuid knew further conversation was meaningless.

“Litsy, will you come with me?”

He held out his hand to Lysteia.

Without a word, she placed her hand atop his.

His large, knuckled hand clasped hers firmly.

The house where Lysteia had grown up had no roof.

When heavy rain poured down, when cutting winds blew, she could only endure.

If she turned her head, she would see harmonious families beyond the window, like paintings.

Sturdy roofs, bright lights, families gathered before warm fireplaces, talking together.

She had thought she would never have such things. Warm and good things were never meant to be hers.

The gift box she had picked up could not possibly contain something good.

And yet…

Lysteia tugged Diamuid closer and pressed her lips to his ear.

Her whispering voice was brimming with excitement, like a child who had just opened a gift box.

“This time, I’ll come to you, Your Highness. On my own two feet.”

It was the first time that the gift box she had chosen contained the brightest and best thing.

“This time, I won’t keep you waiting long.”

At her bold resolve, Diamuid tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled faintly.

“I don’t mind waiting as long as it takes. Just please do not get hurt. I will always be here.”

The house where Lysteia had grown up had no roof.

But the house where she would live from now on had a very large and sturdy roof.