I Proposed Because You Were Terminally Ill - Chapter 22

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

Chapter 22

Even after returning to her room, Damia held onto the letter for a long time.

Her mind was complicated and her chest felt stuffy.

‘Why hasn’t Romi come back yet?’

She must have grown accustomed to Romi’s chatter, as even the quiet room felt strange.

Being alone made useless thoughts keep surfacing.

Like Cassian, who had suddenly become obsessed with Damia.

‘If Cassian could escape his terminal fate, would anything change in the future?’

And if the key to that was Damia herself.

‘Could this fake engagement become real?’

It was a situation that could perhaps be considered an opportunity.

But Damia’s heart pounded with anxiety rather than excitement.

She had no intention of permanently occupying the position of the Young Duke’s fiancée, which had belonged to someone else in her previous life.

She didn’t want to live as a hollow Countess, enduring sneers about being far beneath him.

‘A marriage where one side is heavily tilted can never bring happiness.’

So Cassian should be matched with a young lady who had at least Drury’s level of background.

‘But why did I of all people develop this strange ability?’

No, she even doubted whether this was actually an ability.

It could simply be a strange phenomenon, and there was no guarantee it would repeat in the future.

Even the physician at Sarkis Palace, who had studied the dragon’s curse for a long time, declared this was the first time he’d ever seen such a thing.

“Miss Damia!”

Just then, urgent footsteps could be heard, and the Butler knocked on her door.

Damia, awakened from her thoughts, reflexively shoved Arsene’s letter into the nightstand drawer.

Though she had done nothing wrong, her heart pounded for no reason.

“May I come in for a moment? It’s urgent!”

Glancing out the window, she saw it was already pitch dark. It wasn’t a time when the Butler would urgently seek out Damia.

“It’s terrible! Ro, Romi…!”

Why is Romi’s name suddenly coming up?

Startled, Damia flung open the door.

The Butler, pale as a sheet, was stamping his feet anxiously.

“What’s wrong? What about Romi?”

“She’s, she’s in critical condition. They say she’s badly injured and nearly dying…”

“What did you say?”

Damia’s lips slowly parted.

Goosebumps ran down her spine. She thought she could hear ringing in her ears.

“Word came from Sarkis Palace. They found Romi at the Estate’s Rear Mountain, and said she was in a state close to being a corpse.”

“But Romi was supposed to go to Town. There’s no reason for her to go that far!”

“That rear mountain has many rare medicinal herbs, and they generally turned a blind eye to townspeople secretly going in and out to gather and sell them.”

Damia suddenly recalled something Romi had muttered in passing.

‘She said if the Young Duke would just give permission, she’d like to gather and sell herbs from the Estate’s Rear Mountain too.’

They had been gradually selling herbs and ointments through Luke, Romi’s Brother.

Though it wasn’t widely known yet, it was decent pocket money.

Having tasted success once, Romi had helped Damia with increasing enthusiasm. She had mentioned the Estate’s Rear Mountain during that time.

Still, she wasn’t the type of girl to do such a thing without telling Damia.

“Romi is quite, well, greedy, isn’t she? She must have snuck in and lost her footing.”

“…That can’t be. It wouldn’t be Romi.”

The Butler lowered his head with a somber expression.

“The Count family sent a Carriage. Though a maid’s life or death wouldn’t be a big matter to them…”

He seemed to have already concluded Romi’s death.

“Since she was a maid the Young Duke personally assigned to you, Miss, he seems to be taking special care.”

“…”

“If Romi dies from her illness, it seems he’ll even personally arrange her funeral.”

“A funeral, already talking about such things…”

Cold sweat kept seeping from her palms.

Even if it were a stranger fighting for their life, she’d be concerned, but Damia had grown quite close to Romi during this time.

Romi was cheerful and followed Damia like a benefactor. The time spent together was always enjoyable.

When discussing what to make and sell with herbs, the sun would set before they knew it.

“Miss, this may be hard to believe, but… here’s a letter with the Count family’s official seal.”

The familiar crest of House of Sarkis was unmistakable.

“Since Romi might not make it through the night, perhaps you should… say your final goodbye?”

Damia could no longer deny reality.

* * *

As night deepened, the air had become quite chilly.

Damia tightly wrapped her only coat around herself as she headed to the Backyard.

Something rattled in her pocket, but she had no time to worry about it now.

“You said to take this Carriage to the Viscount’s Mansion?”

A large Carriage sat there idly.

It was a pitch-black Carriage with no decorations, not even the Sarkis family crest.

“Yes, Miss. Please hurry and get in. The Coachman is the one who brought the letter with the official seal, so you can trust him.”

“Why didn’t they send a Carriage from Sarkis Palace?”

“You two aren’t officially married yet, are you? There are those who would find fault with going in and out of each other’s residences late at night, so he’s probably being careful.”

“Romi is in critical condition… what use are rumors at a time like this.”

Just then, a sound of suppressed laughter came from the Coachman wearing a pulled-down hat.

“Didn’t that Coachman just laugh?”

“It must be your imagination, Miss. Come now, it seems we must hurry.”

The Butler’s eyebrows twitched at the Coachman’s suspicious reaction, but he soon pretended to be calm and urged Damia on.

A strange anxiety rose from Damia’s ankles to the top of her head.

“Wait a moment. I’ll go see Father first. This concerns our household’s maid, so Father as the head of the family should know about it too.”

“It’s fine, Miss. The Viscount is already fast asleep, and I’ll explain the situation to him in detail tomorrow morning.”

The Butler personally opened the Carriage door as he replied.

Why does it seem like they’re in such a rush?

Though Damia was half-doubtful, she stepped onto the stairs. If Romi was truly in critical condition, she felt she’d regret hesitating now for the rest of her life.

“She certainly talks too damn much.”

Just then, the Butler’s cynical mutter pierced into Damia’s ears.

Though his voice was very quiet, it was clearly audible in the surrounding silence.

“What did you just say?”

Damia turned around to face the Butler.

He let out a big sigh and shrugged his shoulders.

“I said you should hurry, Miss.”

“That’s a lie.”

“You seem to be in a state of confusion from the shock, Miss.”

“I’m not going. Now that I think about it, something’s strange.”

Damia put strength into both legs and stopped firmly.

She had a premonition that she absolutely shouldn’t be dragged away like this.

“Didn’t Romi follow you quite devotedly, Miss? You should watch over her final journey.”

“…”

Those words stabbed at Damia’s guilt.

Did she make a mistake taking Romi away from the Soro Viscount’s Household?

If only Damia hadn’t interfered, Romi would have succeeded just like in her previous life, even if she had to suffer a bit.

“Come on, let’s hurry and depart. The Young Duke must be waiting as well.”

“Stop rushing me. First of all….”

“Hah, are you going to keep being this troublesome?”

“What?”

The middle-aged butler pressed his temples firmly and let out an irritated sigh.

“Ah! Let go of me!”

He lifted Damia up like a piece of luggage and tried to shove her straight into the carriage.

“I said let go!”

Damia clawed with her nails and struggled.

However, there was no way Damia, who was more frail than most girls, could really shake off a middle-aged man.

“Ah!”

The butler threw Damia into the carriage.

He irritably wiped his face, which was a mess of nail marks.

“No matter how much you struggle, it’s useless, Miss.”

“Why are you doing this to me!”

“Since I’ve received money, I’ll do my best at what I’ve been entrusted with. My duty today is to safely deliver you to that person.”

“What on earth are you trying to say! Who is this person!”

Could it possibly be Count Fabron?

Had his resentment from being worked as a butler without receiving proper wages grown this great?

To the point of selling off the young daughter of his master’s house to an old count to make a profit!

But that’s not my fault, it’s Father’s fault for squandering the fortune!

“Miss, since this seems like it will be the last time, let me be honest with you. The truth is.”

The butler, who had caught his breath, pulled up the corners of his mouth in a vile manner.

“Actually, I would have done the same thing even if I hadn’t received money.”

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