CHAPTER 16
“…What are you talking about?”
“You couldn’t remarry because of me, right?”
Seraphine suspected that the Duke of Rubia’s recent busyness wasn’t solely due to her broken engagement.
What could a widower possibly be hiding from his grown daughter?
The Duke had considered remarriage immediately after the Duchess passed away.
‘But it fell through because the owner of this body threw a fit, saying she’d never allow it. Still, since he considered it early on, he might still have feelings about it.’
Normally, the Duke didn’t hesitate to speak openly with his daughter.
So the only topic she could think of that he’d find hard to bring up was remarriage.
When Seraphine brought it up, the Duke, clearly flustered, hurried to deny it.
“Remarry? At my age?”
“What does age have to do with it? As long as you have a partner, you certainly can.”
“…”
“You don’t have to worry about me anymore.”
“Is that because you’re thinking of leaving the family?”
“Yes.”
The answer was clean—too clean.
Wouldn’t it be better for you, Father, if I—the disgrace of the family—just left?
The Duke recalled the image of his daughter glaring straight at him, radiating calm fury.
Unlike his other children, the second child had always required more attention.
He had tried to raise her with affection when she was young, but as time passed, he had gradually and subconsciously neglected her.
Still, he had always believed he had done his part as a decent father.
So hearing her call herself “the disgrace of the family” had come as a deep shock.
And now, seeing his once-dependent daughter show such resolute independence left him with feelings he couldn’t even describe.
“You don’t know how many days you even have left. What could you possibly do the moment you become an adult and step out from under the family’s protection?”
“…”
“I believe I’ve indulged you enough. You want the engagement broken, and I’m allowing it—but family ties aren’t something you can cut so easily.”
His will was firm.
“You’re not even getting married—why would you throw away the family name? That I absolutely will not allow. Drop the matter.”
And marriage was no longer an option anyway, since it was being annulled.
Who would propose to a ruthless woman who might die any day—unless all they cared about was money?
Especially now, just after breaking off an engagement with the imperial family.
In essence, his words meant: don’t even think about disownment.
Seraphine had expected the Duke to at least feign agreement or indifference if she said she wanted to leave the family.
But his response was too firm—shockingly so.
After taking a moment to compose herself, Seraphine spoke.
“Father, could you consider me already dead?”
“Seraphine…! What are you saying? You’re clearly alive and well!”
The Duke practically jumped in shock.
Seeing him nearly hit his head on the carriage ceiling, Seraphine let out an internal sigh.
‘If marriage is the only way, then instead of worrying about Father’s remarriage, I should take care of my own future first.’
She even thought that perhaps her own marriage might be more urgent.
And with that thought, Seraphine headed for the imperial palace.
***
The private audience with the Emperor ended sooner than expected.
Sitting across from him with impeccable posture, Seraphine thought the Emperor and his son looked quite alike.
She found herself subconsciously looking for traces of Icarus in him.
Though Icarus had adopted the Emperor’s ancestor, making them unrelated by blood, it was a habit she couldn’t break.
“The reason I summoned you is to confirm one thing.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
There was only one reason for the Emperor to call her: the broken engagement.
Seraphine had been prepared for questions about that—but was instead surprised by a completely unexpected topic.
“You must be aware of the divine weapons.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Have you seen any of them in person?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“I see.”
She could feel the Emperor’s sharp gaze trying to determine whether she was telling the truth.
“And I received the letter you sent not long ago. The annulment you requested will proceed as you wished, so rest easy.”
“Your Majesty, if I may… may I ask why you’re inquiring about the divine weapons?”
It was suspicious—far too suspicious—to bring up weapons so suddenly.
“Most of the weapons that once brought prosperity to the kingdom have since vanished. But recently, I heard Madame Rubia is seeking one of them.”
“…”
“If, by any chance, you—born with wings—were to come into contact with such a weapon, I feared it might bring undesirable consequences. But it seems that’s not the case, so I’m relieved.”
“So that’s what lay behind your question.”
As Seraphine responded emotionlessly, the Emperor called her name.
“Lady Rubia.”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
“I don’t know why Madame Rubia is suddenly seeking a weapon, but if you ever encounter one, I ask that you do not touch it.”
“Thank you for your concern.”
And that was the end of the audience.
As she left the palace, Seraphine thought that, despite all the noise, the engagement had been broken rather anticlimactically.
A bond that could be severed so easily.
When one person lets go, a loosely tied string simply falls to the ground—that kind of relationship.
Retracing her steps, Seraphine unexpectedly ran into Leonhardt.
“Lady Rubia.”
“I greet the empire’s little sun.”
Seraphine gave a slight nod.
Her lowered lashes sparkled in the sunlight.
Leonhardt, seeing Seraphine fully dressed up for the first time, couldn’t help but stare, momentarily dazed.
Before, she had seemed like a crude imitation of a jewel. Now, she was the jewel.
When she first mentioned breaking the engagement, he had seen her true self. But now, the luxurious adornments only served to enhance her—it didn’t look out of place at all.
But instead of saying anything, Leonhardt just stared at her. Seraphine assumed he had summoned her just to say, “So you’re ignoring me now? Not even a proper greeting?”
Still, seeing Leonhardt again, Seraphine felt no anger or humiliation. She walked right past him.
But Leonhardt suddenly grabbed her wrist, snapping out of his daze.
“I should congratulate you, shouldn’t I? You finally got the annulment you wanted so badly.”
“…”
“Considering this engagement began with your stubbornness, it’s a rather anticlimactic ending.”
Anyone could tell Leonhardt had no real attachment to the engagement from the start.
But from the way he spoke, it sounded like a tragic love story—like a jilted lover abandoned by a fickle heart.
“Well, if only you had been more devoted as a fiancé, perhaps I wouldn’t have asked for the annulment.”
“I met with you regularly and shared my mana each time. I don’t know how I could’ve been more devoted.”
It was absurdly shameless.
Seraphine let out a quiet, bitter laugh and looked around, as if scanning for someone.
“You’re alone today.”
Leonhardt realized she was referring to Melanie, whom she had seen at the boutique. He responded as if it were nothing.
Seraphine was momentarily speechless.
She wondered if romance norms had changed drastically in the 500 years she had been dead.
“How do you expect to survive without me? Do you realize you’re essentially declaring you’re going to die?”
Leonhardt kept trying to make her see how foolish her decision was.
But Seraphine wanted to laugh.
She was making her choices with clear judgment about what was right.
Leonhardt.
He had made her into a beggar—not just for love, but for life itself.
Rather than cling to that kind of existence, it would be better to accept the death she had already foreseen.
Keeping her thoughts hidden, she spoke calmly.
“Then, will you marry me—right now?”
“…What?”
“An engagement is a promise to marry in the future. If you hate the annulment so much, I’m asking if you’d marry me immediately.”
Leonhardt hesitated.
Of course he would.
He didn’t love her.
He didn’t want to have her—but he didn’t want anyone else to have her either.
He thought he held the upper hand, but now that she was walking away without regret, it bruised his pride.
That was all it was.
“You seem to misunderstand something: I can live just fine without you.”
Seraphine understood.
Leonhardt was merely fascinated by the new version of his fiancée—nothing more.
“Your actions seem reckless and unplanned.”
“If it’s a plan you want…”
Her grandmother had asked her something similar once.
Back then, Seraphine said she had no particular plan.
But now she had a different answer.
“I think I’ll try to find a new love.”
She smiled brightly—like sunshine.
Leonhardt could only stare at her blankly.
“Surely there’s someone out there stronger than you, Your Highness.”
“…The Duke of Saphyron, is it?”
“Pardon? What are you talking about?”
Seraphine blinked, confused.
Leonhardt, misreading her reaction, muttered to himself.
“I knew something was off. Why else would the Duke of Saphyron suddenly involve himself in this annulment? Just when did it start?”
The Duke of Saphyron?
Why was his name coming up now?
Seraphine had never heard that from her father—or even from the Emperor.
‘If someone I’ve never even met is suddenly getting involved, I’ll find out later. For now…’
The problem was the man in front of her.
Seraphine found it ridiculous that she was being suspected of a relationship with a man she had never even held hands with.
Especially when the previous owner of her body had thrown such a fit over being touched.
“What about you, Your Highness?”
“…?”
“When did you start seeing Lady Baselan?”
“Melanie and I are childhood friends. Don’t slander someone who’s been by my side even before I met you.”
“Oh, I see. So friends kiss now? If that’s the case, I suppose I’ll never be able to make friends in my life.”
“Lady Rubia…!”
Seraphine glared coldly at Leonhardt, her expression devoid of all emotion.
“Let go of my hand. It’s filthy.”
