CHAPTER 03
“…Where did you hear that?”
“There’s no point in arguing about that now. There’s something more important.”
With her eyes red from crying too much, Linaria spoke.
“I just returned from sending back the crown prince’s gift.”
“……”
“Father, I want to call off the marriage discussions with the royal family.”
Cough.
A small cough escaped before she even finished speaking.
It was from inhaling the thick herbal smoke that filled the room.
Though it wasn’t fragrant, it left her feeling slightly nauseous.
‘I can’t let it show that I’m not feeling well. I need to gauge Father’s reaction.’
Noble marriages are rarely about love—they’re mostly for the benefit of the family.
Linaria’s case was no different.
With her father ill and unable to fulfill his role as head of the family, and Linaria herself failing to form a contract with a divine beast, their family’s position was weakened.
Despite being one of the five ducal houses of the empire, the Obel family’s authority wasn’t what it used to be.
‘I thought the only way to fix all that was to marry the crown prince.’
It was an entirely logical decision.
So for her to suddenly want to break off the marriage—it wouldn’t have been strange if she’d been severely scolded.
Dante stared at Linaria quietly, as if trying to determine how serious she was.
She didn’t look away.
He eventually nodded.
“I’ll meet with His Majesty myself and explain the situation. We’ll consider the engagement as if it never happened.”
Linaria was slightly stunned.
She hadn’t expected him to give permission so easily.
He didn’t even ask why.
“Is there more you want to say? Then at least let’s move somewhere else.”
“……”
“Isn’t it hard to breathe?”
When Linaria didn’t respond, Dante covered her nose and mouth with his large hand, shielding her from the smoke.
He seemed far more concerned about her condition than the subject of canceling the engagement.
That concern—one that could be called worry—felt strangely unfamiliar.
“…Why aren’t you scolding me?”
Linaria looked up.
Through the haze of smoke, the only thing she could clearly see were her father’s red eyes, filled with emotion.
“There’s nothing to scold you for.”
Still covering her face, Dante gently led her toward the door.
“You’ll need some time to gather your thoughts. Wait outside for a bit. I’ll have them prepare some refreshments.”
He called for a maid and gave her instructions.
In the end, Linaria was almost ushered out and followed the maid to the garden.
Not long after sitting at the tea table, the maid brought her tea.
“Excuse me.”
Soon, Dante appeared, taking a deep drag from his pipe.
A similar smoke to the one that filled his room spread around him.
It wasn’t a regular pipe—it was medicinal.
Since he couldn’t fill the open space with smoke like in his bedroom, he brought the pipe as a temporary measure.
“Your head—”
“Pardon?”
“Does your head hurt?”
As Linaria stared blankly at the pipe, Dante asked with concern.
“Not at all.”
“I heard you haven’t eaten yet. Eat and drink something. And if anything feels off, call the physician right away. Sometimes symptoms show up late.”
“…This isn’t the time for you to be worrying about me, Father.”
Though he’d been ill for a while, it was different knowing death was imminent rather than a vague possibility.
“I don’t know how the story got out, but someone probably exaggerated and said ‘five years.’ It won’t be anything like what you’re imagining.”
Dante assumed Linaria was trying to break off her engagement because of his condition.
He hadn’t even properly acted as a father because of his illness.
Still, maybe she was feeling soft because of the news that he’d been given a death sentence.
The image of his daughter crying so sorrowfully a moment ago lingered in his mind.
“Liri, if you’re breaking off the engagement because of me, you don’t need to go that far.”
“No. Even if your health were truly fine, I wouldn’t change my decision.”
Linaria believed her father was lying to comfort her.
So she shook her head firmly.
“I see. If that’s how you feel, then so be it. It’s only at the discussion stage, so it will be cleanly resolved.”
“Thank you for accepting my selfishness.”
“Selfishness? It’s your life. Of course your opinion should come first.”
Dante took another puff from his pipe, holding the smoke in his mouth.
The white mist drifted away from Linaria, in the opposite direction.
“Father…”
Linaria followed the smoke with her gaze.
If he truly didn’t care for her, he wouldn’t have bothered to blow the smoke away from her.
‘If he didn’t care whether I coughed or not, he wouldn’t have done that.’
And he wouldn’t keep calling her by that affectionate nickname either.
Going back over these little details gave her a new kind of courage.
She could finally ask the question she’d always been afraid to hear the answer to.
“Are you ashamed of me because I’m a ‘half-child’?”
“What are you talking about?”
Dante froze with the pipe still in his hand.
“Liri… Who told you something like that…?”
He was genuinely shaken.
Linaria was no longer a small child or a helpless girl.
Though her body was still young because of turning back time, her heart had already matured.
Facing her father as an adult, she could finally see his true feelings.
“It’s an engagement to the crown prince. You could’ve insisted that it couldn’t be broken off because of our family’s honor. You could’ve scolded me for being reckless.”
“……”
“But you agreed just because I wanted to. That made me wonder if maybe you just didn’t care.”
“It’s only natural that you might find someone you want to marry. I thought it was understandable if you wished to become the crown princess or empress.”
“……”
“Lady Meril told me how strong your will was. That’s why I gave permission. And I said breaking off the engagement would be fine, because it’s something I can handle.”
Linaria lowered her eyes.
The more her father spoke, the more the tears she thought had dried up began to well again.
“It’s far easier to cancel an engagement than to get a divorce after an unhappy marriage.”
Linaria had once wanted to be the most noble woman in the empire.
So noble that no one could ever look down on her.
But that dream had been entirely for the sake of her family.
Now, her father was saying he wished for her happiness.
It was no longer about duty or the greater good—but about her, and her alone.
Cough, cough.
Perhaps from speaking too much, Dante suddenly coughed harshly into his palm.
There was blood.
“Father!”
Linaria stood up in shock, but Dante motioned for her to sit back down.
“Liri. I’m fine. Stay there.”
“But—”
“Not all medicine is helpful. For some, it can be poison. If you’re not careful with this smoke… you could die.”
You felt dizzy from it earlier, didn’t you?
Dante gave her a look that seemed to say just that.
Linaria had no choice but to sit back down.
He took another puff of the pipe.
The smoke spread out again—but never toward Linaria.
‘Why didn’t I notice my father’s feelings before?’
The answer was simple.
Because she had believed she was a “half-child” who killed her mother in childbirth.
Dante had never once called her that.
But the reason she’d believed it anyway was…
“What a rare sight—to see father and daughter having such a tender moment.”
A familiar female voice cut into her thoughts.
“Lady Meril.”
Meril Perini.
She was Margaret’s—Linaria’s mother’s—closest friend and Linaria’s wet nurse.
And—
‘The one who made me believe I was a half-child from a very young age.’
She wore a neat black dress, likely having just come from visiting Margaret’s grave.
“You’re quite the early riser, Duke. It seems you visited Margaret’s grave early again this year.”
“I assume you’ve been as well. Thank you, as always, for taking care of my daughter like your own.”
Dante always visited Margaret’s grave alone at dawn each year—no matter how ill he was.
“Oh, no need to thank me. It’s only natural, considering my friendship with Margaret.”
Lady Meril smiled and looked at Linaria.
“My lady, perhaps you should get up now. Staying too long with the duke might worsen his condition.”
She spoke gently, but clearly intended to interrupt the conversation.
Linaria calmly refused.
“Lady Meril, I’m fine. I’m still talking with my father, so please go ahead and return.”
“But—”
“This is important.”
“She’s right, Lady Meril. I appreciate your concern, but I can manage. That will be all.”
With even Dante speaking up, Meril had no choice but to leave.
Meril had rushed to the estate as soon as she’d heard of Margaret’s passing and volunteered to raise Linaria herself.
‘I was just a baby, and she had a daughter of similar age. She even breastfed me.’
Considering that, Linaria saw Meril almost like a mother.
She’d raised and taught her in place of her sickly father, so Linaria had never doubted her.
‘But…’
Looking back, there were far too many suspicious things.
“Father, you haven’t given me a birthday gift yet.”
In truth, she had never once received a birthday present from him.
Not even a simple one.
“Is there something you’d like?”
Now, Dante acted as if he’d happily give her anything she wanted.
Surprised by his easygoing manner, Linaria nodded.
“I want to live with you for the rest of my life.”
Cough, cough.
Dante choked in surprise.
“That’s the only birthday gift I want—just to spend one more year together with you.”
“Liri…”
He nearly dropped his pipe, but quickly regained his composure.
“I’ve already prepared a gift for you this year, of course. I made sure to have it picked to suit your taste. Oh, since it’s still early, it might not have been delivered yet.”
This year too?
From the way he spoke, it sounded like he’d prepared a birthday present every year.
“Living with me isn’t something I’d count as a gift—it’s something I can do for you regardless. But I do hope you’ll like this year’s present.”
A soft, warm smile crossed Dante’s face before fading.
Linaria was confused.
He didn’t seem to be lying.
‘He asked someone who knows me well to choose something I’d like…’
There was only one person he’d ask for that.
Lady Meril.
At that moment, Linaria’s eyes turned cold.
“Father, there’s something I must say.”
“Go ahead.”
“That is…”
Linaria opened her mouth to speak.
