Chapter 07
“Ah.”
Daphne was certain she recognized this coat. The feeling of the collar brushing and lightly pressing against her cheek was familiar. It was probably the one her father wore when he came to the capital.
Whenever he visited the capital to see his children, their father would always pull them into a warm embrace.
I always thought he was far away…
In her previous life, not a single trace of her father had remained.
Even his necklace had disappeared at the accident scene and was never seen again. It had been a gift Daphne and Samuel saved money to buy for him…
In the end, for Daphne, her father existed only as a memory.
And yet, being able to feel such a vivid texture and scent again somehow made her… happy.
“Will you tell me?”
When Liam asked, Daphne lifted her head. He was idly playing with a cigarette case resting on the desk.
“…You mean the soap manufacturer?”
“As if.”
He wore the same smile he had shown earlier at the doorway.
It was the same social smile he used when receiving condolences.
“To be honest, I’ve been curious since the first moment I saw you.”
Still clutching her father’s coat, Daphne walked toward him.
“How did you accept the loss?”
Liam opened the cigarette case and gently toyed with the dried cigarette inside.
It was probably one her father had rolled for the former duke. Her father himself had never been fond of smoking.
“On the slow train to Clotmore, I watched you the whole time,” he continued. “I thought you were quite a brave young lady.”
“…I had to be brave then.”
“Of course. You didn’t want to hand your younger brother over to me.”
Daphne nodded slowly.
“That’s what amazes me,” he said.
He set the case down and looked straight at her.
“After the news came from Amberhorn… honestly, I still can’t quite believe it. Even now. To the point that I can smile and respond when people say, ‘My condolences.’”
“You haven’t fully realized it yet.”
“There are still matters between us that were never resolved. So I keep thinking he can’t possibly be dead. But you were different.”
He still wore the same smile.
“You’ve been acting without hesitation, all based on the premise that your father is gone.”
Daphne vaguely remembered her past self.
Whenever the front door opened in the capital house where only she and Mrs. Page remained, she would jump up from her seat, thinking her father had come.
If she ever saw the train returning from Clotmore, she would sometimes run to the platform, wondering if her dad might step off.
She stopped doing those things only after a long time had passed.
Countless repeated disappointments had finally taught her heart the reality.
Her father would not come.
He had died.
She could never meet him again.
Ever.
So Liam must be in the same place she once was.
“Duke Sloan.”
Daphne deliberately addressed him that way.
Liam lowered his head.
“…How cruel of you.”
It seemed he still considered the title “Duke Sloan” to belong to his father.
Each time others called him that, it must have felt strange. Yet since he could not express it, he simply smiled.
“…I just want to become like you.”
“It’s something that requires time.”
“It’s not like we’re living in different timelines. Besides, you’re three years younger than me.”
“I’ll turn eighteen next month.”
“Really? Congratulations. It’s always good news when another person starts paying taxes to my territory.”
Daphne frowned slightly.
Just like Asher Marple—he was saying the exact same thing.
“So,” Liam said.
He took a cigarette from the case and placed it between his lips, though he didn’t light it.
“Are you really not going to reveal your secret?”
“There’s nothing worthy of being called a secret. It’s simply…”
Because she had turned back time.
But she couldn’t say that. Smiling, Daphne picked up a match.
“If you hire me as your attendant, I’ll tell you.”
“…How wicked. No need for the fire.”
He raised his hand to refuse, so Daphne set the match down.
“I’ve already allowed you access to this room, yet you’re demanding even more.”
“I’m very grateful for that.”
“You know something?”
He returned the cigarette to the case, stepped down from the desk, and stood before her.
When Daphne lifted her head, her long silver hair fell down, making the line of her face appear even clearer.
“A short greeting alone doesn’t feel very satisfying.”
He emphasized the word satisfying, as if reminding her of the condition she had to meet to become his attendant.
“You’re wicked too, Your Grace.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Then let me tell you just one thing. Stop taking night walks and start using your own bedroom.”
“….”
While working in the mansion carrying coal and firewood, Daphne had naturally learned something.
The warmly prepared “duke’s bedroom” showed absolutely no signs of Liam actually living there.
Perhaps he simply couldn’t bring himself to sleep in his father’s bed.
“…Hmm.”
Perhaps realizing her point was correct, he awkwardly pursed his lips and looked away.
“If it’s difficult, I can escort you to the entrance,” Daphne offered. “As a prospective attendant.”
She extended her hand.
“Shall we?”
He narrowed his eyes slightly and placed his hand in hers. Though he was only two years older than her, the many calluses on his hand surprised her.
“Let’s go.”
Daphne hung her father’s coat back in its place and left Sutton’s room. Liam silently followed as she led him.
She wondered whether he had slept properly since losing his father.
If she had realized sooner that he wandered around at night because he couldn’t occupy his father’s bed, she would have tried to help somehow.
For the first time, she climbed the staircase reserved for the masters of the house—one servants could not use—and soon arrived at the duke’s bedroom along the now-familiar route.
Daphne boldly opened the door.
When she turned back, Liam still looked hesitant.
“It would be better not to light the lamp,” she said.
Darkness might help narrow his senses.
“Are you leaving?” he asked.
“If there’s nothing else you wish to ask of me.”
Daphne had expected he might request something trivial—if only to avoid being alone in this room.
In the past, she had asked Mrs. Page for similar favors when she had to check her father’s drawers.
“The thing I want to ask is…”
He glanced around the room with uneasy eyes, then slowly shook his head.
It seemed he had decided to face everything alone.
For some reason, Daphne suddenly felt sorry for him.
The man who seemed so mature was actually only twenty years old, forced to inherit the heavy title of duke and shoulder all its responsibilities alone.
“If it isn’t improper,” she said carefully so as not to offend him,
“I can stay by your side until you fall asleep. As Sutton.”
“Sutton… you say. Very well.”
He nodded lightly.
“Then do that.”
Daphne stepped into the bedroom and quietly closed the door. Liam walked slowly to the bed and lay down.
Daphne looked around for a small chair to place near the bed, but the room—with its curtains drawn—was too dark to find anything.
Left with no choice, she asked for his permission and sat on the edge of the bed.
It was such a large bed that her sitting there wouldn’t disturb his sleep.
“This feels strange,” he murmured.
“That’s only natural.”
Daphne nodded. There was no need to explain or deny the feelings he was experiencing.
Realizing loss came only after enduring a long chain of emotions like these.
“I understand why you keep Sutton by your side,” he said.
“I’m glad you’ve recognized my usefulness.”
“No.”
He shifted slightly and began playing with the ends of Daphne’s hair that had fallen near his waist.
“It’s as if you hold light within you. If I’m with you, I’d never lose my way anywhere.”
At his murmured reply, Daphne tilted her head slightly.
“I’m sorry, but that’s incorrect.”
“Is that really something to reject so coldly?”
“Of course it is. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to explain Sutton apart from silver hair.”
“….”
“Besides, Sutton isn’t a guide. You must find your own path.”
She worried she might have sounded too cold, but it was the truth.
She couldn’t change Sutton’s shining history—or take on false blame—just to gain his favor.
Still, perhaps it had been too harsh for someone who had only just begun adjusting to this room.
When Daphne turned to check on him worriedly, he had buried his face in the pillow, laughing breathlessly.
She had no idea what was so funny.
“Good heavens, Daphne Sutton—you’ve completely satisfied me!”
“I told you I would.”
Daphne answered calmly, though a subtle joy slipped into her voice.
Liam was a noble who valued honor and faith.
Once he declared himself “satisfied,” he would never take it back.
Which meant—
Daphne could truly become his attendant now.
Closing her eyes, she thought back on the hardships of the past few days.
None of it felt wasted.
Perhaps because she had perfectly achieved the goal she had set.
