I Proposed Because You Were Terminally Ill - Chapter 2

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Chapter 2

Before making such an outrageous marriage proposal, Damia Ponti had her own circumstances.

“Butler, Count Fabron has sent a marriage proposal for Damia?”

In other words, it was the common ordeal faced by a pretty daughter who was the last remaining asset of a declining noble family.

“Yes, since the young lady is still young, he says he would spare no expense in providing annual support even if they only form an engagement for now.”

“Hmm….”

“The age difference is quite significant, which is a flaw, but the Count Fabron family has been wealthy for generations. Moreover, the Count himself is famous as a refined gentleman.”

“Hmm….”

“There probably won’t be another marriage prospect this good in the west.”

Damia’s father, Viscount Ponti, clicked his tongue softly.

‘Even if he’s pretending to deliberate now, father will end up selling me to that middle-aged man again anyway.’

Damia, who had been mulling over memories from her past life, ground her teeth quietly.

Count Fabron, who outwardly pretended to be a gentleman, was actually an indescribably terrible human being.

Her married life with him had been filled with endless humiliation and disgrace.

‘I can’t be foolishly sold off as the Count’s second wife like in my previous life.’

Even though she had regressed into the body of a thirteen-year-old child who couldn’t even flee alone in the night.

“Well, age is hardly a major flaw for a man. What about the financial support?”

‘No, isn’t that a huge flaw? Anyway, this body is still thirteen years old, and he’s old enough to be my father!’

She couldn’t just sit and listen silently anymore. This time, she wouldn’t walk obediently into that hell.

“Father.”

Damia forced down her disgust and smiled brightly.

“Are you perhaps holding a meeting right in front of me about selling me to a perverted old man?”

“Damia, what kind of language is that? And a pervert? Count Fabron has a high reputation as a gentleman!”

“Would a man who’s already eyeing a thirteen-year-old as his second wife really be in his right mind?”

“Do you think becoming Count Fabron’s wife is easy? You’re still young so you don’t understand, but this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for you.”

Damia pulled up one corner of her mouth.

When her violet eyes glinted coldly, Viscount Ponti and the butler flinched.

“Even though I grew up without a mother and might know less about the world than my peers.”

“D-Damia!”

“I’m not foolish enough to be purely delighted about becoming an old count’s second wife, am I?”

Well, the Damia from her past life had been exactly that kind of fool.

She had been a child who obediently followed whatever her father ordered, just to be loved.

She had even smiled brightly when that old count told her to come live with him before the marriage.

‘The splendid mansion looked exactly like a princess’s castle, and father was happy.’

By the time she reached adulthood, her father had already taken a hefty sum from the count.

At that point, even if she didn’t want to, she had no choice but to be dragged to the wedding altar wearing a veil.

That was in her previous life, anyway.

And….

Damia unconsciously squeezed her eyes shut.

Just recalling that terrible married life made her nauseous.

“I will not marry the Count.”

After a deep breath, words that sounded quite resolute came out.

A cold silence flowed through the Viscount’s old drawing room.

“Miss Damia, I didn’t want to mention this… but the Viscount family’s debts are quite serious.”

“….”

“There may never be another marriage prospect this good again.”

At the butler’s cautious words, her father also nodded heavily.

It wasn’t wrong. The Ponti Viscount family had indeed fallen to ruin in her past life.

‘This time, I’ll prevent it somehow.’

Damia’s violet eyes sparkled with clear determination.

“Father, don’t worry. I’ll find a much better new fiancé than Count Fabron.”

As soon as her memories from her past life returned, she had checked the garden behind the mansion first.

Everything was the same.

Even those purple weeds that were now neglected and growing wild.

“Damia, you? How?”

Cassian Sarkis.

That beautiful boy who had been too far away, too high up in her past life for her to ever dare harbor feelings for.

‘This time, I’ll help him and gain my freedom in return.’

Once he experienced the effects of those purple weeds—no, herbs—firsthand, Cassian would never be able to refuse Damia’s proposal.

‘Right now, even if I tried to expose the Count’s true nature, I have no evidence. Besides, I’m not confident that father would prioritize me over money.’

So this was the only way.

“Please wait just a little. I’ll introduce you to my new fiancé soon.”

Damia remembered clearly how quickly that young duke’s perfect life had ended in her previous life.

She already knew a way to delay his early death, even if just a little.

‘Once everything is over, I can break off the engagement, take my share, and leave.’

Though she was sick of marriage by now, she could endure a fake engagement for the sake of survival and freedom.

* * *

“The Viscount Ponti’s daughter was invited to the tea party too?”

“Wow, how harsh. It looks like she couldn’t even afford a new dress?”

Young ladies whispered while covering their mouths with fans, imitating adults.

Beside them, dim-witted young lords giggled while looking Damia up and down.

Damia quickly pulled down her sleeves to hide her gaunt wrists.

If she had truly been thirteen, she might have been hurt and started sniffling, but now this much didn’t bother her at all.

“I can hear everything.”

But that didn’t mean she planned to just sit and listen quietly either.

When Damia smiled brightly and shot back, the young ladies’ faces turned bright red.

At least the girls, unlike the boys, seemed to know shame.

‘Where is Cassian?’

Whether they were indignantly whispering or not, Damia’s attention was entirely focused on Cassian Sarkis.

The kind Duchess Sarkis had often hosted tea parties for children in her past life too.

Especially during the short, sunny summer, parties were held almost every week.

A small social circle for young girls who hadn’t had their debutante balls and innocent boys who had never yet competed with real swords.

‘I rarely attended before because I had no decent dress to wear and no social skills to make friends.’

Perhaps because she had lived through such a harsh previous life, she could now laugh off minor embarrassments with composure.

‘There he is.’

Far away, a boy was sitting leaning against the willow tree by the lake.

This was a party hosted by Duchess Sarkis, who was called the very mistress of western high society.

The only young lord who could lounge so carelessly was Cassian.

‘It’s been so long since I’ve seen Cassian Sarkis alive.’

Especially the appearance of that perfect and arrogant young duke before his illness became apparent.

With each step closer to the boy, her breath caught from nervousness.

‘Get it together. Even that great Cassian Sarkis is just a child right now.’

Damia tried to steel herself.

She had died and come back to life—how could she fail to persuade just one young boy?

Besides, she had practiced for this moment many times.

She had prepared a way to explain very politely, rationally, and logically why Cassian had to become her fiancé.

First, she needed to avoid creating any aversion.

“Ah…”

But the moment she finally came face to face with Cassian, all of Damia’s plans crumbled in an instant.

The young duke sparkling under the summer sunlight was overwhelmingly dazzling.

‘Come to think of it, I was incredibly weak to beautiful things.’

In her previous life, she had only forced herself to forget because she married an old count.

Hair as black as if it had absorbed all light, blood-red eyes that captured one’s gaze instantly, features without a single flaw.

It was a beauty more complete than any masterpiece painting Damia had ever seen.

‘A face like that being terminally ill is absurd. This time, I absolutely cannot let him die so early.’

That perfect creation had to survive as long as possible and pass down his excellent face for generations to come.

Captivated by this intense sense of mission, Damia completely forgot all the words she had prepared.

“I’ll make a prophecy for you. Your Grace’s brilliant life will soon fall.”

And she blurted it out without realizing it.

Possessed by some strange conviction that Cassian Sarkis needed to feel this sense of urgency quickly.

* * *

“You want me to become your fiancé after explaining your usefulness to me?”

Ah, this was a disaster. She should have explained more step by step.

Damia forced strength into her lips that felt like they might twitch. Then she pulled up at least one corner to create something resembling a smile.

“What’s with that expression? Are you mocking me right now?”

No, judging by Cassian’s reaction, the smile seemed to be a complete failure. It only seemed to fuel his anger instead.

“Why would I mock Your Grace? That’s ridiculous.”

Though her memories of being an adult in her previous life were vivid, perhaps because her body had become younger, controlling the surging impulses was harder than expected.

Still, unlike Damia, the Cassian before her eyes was truly a young boy.

He was still immature, couldn’t properly hide his emotions, and even looked somewhat innocent.

“I told you, didn’t I? This is a prophecy.”

Since it had come to this, perhaps frightening him might be a more effective method of persuasion.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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