The duke sat next to me with his arms crossed, maintaining the most severe gaze.

He isn’t going to fall asleep, right? I can’t waste this opportunity to show him that I still cough up blood.

If he did, the mortifying theatrics I pulled off to lure him in the carriage would have been for nothing. I decided to strike up a conversation to keep him from dozing off.

“It’s my first time seeing Evan. Does he know he is a married man?”

“No. He does not.”

Truly, he was the pinnacle of fatherhood. So I was supposed to drive down to the academy and say to Evan, “Hello, I’m Laria. I believe I’m a year older than you. Oh, by the way, I’m also your wife. And, yes, we’ve never met before.”

Ugh, just imagining the inevitable exchange made me feel hopeless. He’d probably say something like, “I see. As a fourteen-year-old boy, I didn’t expect to be told I have a wife on my graduation day... But of course, I understand.”

At the end of the day, it is the duty of the weak to accept the will of the strong, no matter what.

Early marriages weren’t rare among the gentry, but one done without the recipients’ knowledge had never happened to date.

He has no qualms about using his own son for a shot at absolute power. I suppose nothing will stop him from hacking my head off should I fail to be useful to his plans.

In the original story, in his rabid pursuit for power, the duke didn’t even think twice about kidnapping targets such as the clergy, an act others condemned. The more I thought about my position, the stronger my conviction to stay on his good side and follow his plans became.

“I sincerely hope Evan finds me to his liking.” I stole a glance at the duke’s blazing eyes and continued. “I want to get along well with him.”

“Why is that?”

Since I started the conversation, I thought it was my best bet to be as cordial as possible by answering with a gleeful laugh. “If he’s anything like you, Father, I bet he’s quite handsome.”

Silence. Wait...

I definitely saw it! I did! I saw the ends of his lips curl up. Then, as if it had been rehearsed, the familiar sensation tingled from deep within my lungs.

“I want to live peacefully and happily with you and Evan at the esta— ” Cough! Cough!

Nice.

I quickly covered my mouth with a handkerchief. It was now covered in blood.

Can’t you see I’m sick? I know my skin is rosy compared to before, and I might’ve gained some weight, but I’m still deathly ill. Please. Look at poor old me.

When the coughing subsided, I craned up my neck with the most dejected, pathetic expression I could muster.

“Cough...”

I let out a drawn-out sigh and maneuvered the handkerchief, revealing the biggest red blotch to him.

“It’s nothing, really. I’ve been sick for as long as I can remember and...” I trailed off. Duke Klaudin hadn’t said a word during my entire scene. “F-forgive me,” I said, lowering my gaze.

Over the last few days, I had noticed something about myself while observing my face in the mirror: My normal look was relatively charming, but my glum expression was especially pitiful.

You see, I was waiting for him to ask me if I was in pain. And I was ready to deliver some pathetic line, like, “Oh, I’m fine... Don’t worry about me, Father.” But he, against my expectations, said something completely different.

“Tell me about it.”

I mean, in situations like this, people would usually ask if you were in pain or all right. Wouldn’t they?

“Pardon me?”

“What did you mean when you said you wanted to live happily at my estate?”

It was just something I had made up on the spot...

“How will you, Evan, and I live happily together? Please elaborate.”

It might have been a passing question, but coming from him, it carried a different weight and seemed somehow threatening. So again, I racked my brain for something good.

“What I—” Cough “Wish for us—”

Coughs. The best way to fill awkward conversations.

C-cough. Cough.

Within the short time frame, I’d cobbled together a good enough image of an ideal family.

“We could discuss the events of the days at meals, or take quiet strolls together, or go on picnics...” He said nothing. I endured the uncomfortable silence while thinking of something else meaningful to say. “We could throw parties for each other whenever something great happens. We could laugh or cry when life lifts us up or weighs us down. You know, little things like that.”

I was out of ideas by that point, but babbling nonstop about such things left a strange, lingering feeling in my heart. These were things I made up on the spot, but I couldn’t shake off the feeling that they were my heart’s true desires. I had no family in my previous life, so I never had a chance to experience those small everyday moments with anyone. I was ill-fated in my previous life and utterly hopeless in my reincarnation.

“Were your days at the Losstree Estate as you described?” he asked.

A silly question. Happiness was a distant afterthought at the Losstree Estate. Count Losstree, my father, was a womanizer, and he was as wanton as they came. He was never at home and spent most of his time unabashedly pursuing women.

My brother, Fred, had been exiled and sent to study overseas for speaking out against our father. With a handful of bills for living expenses, he was cast off to a faraway country to study at a tuition-free public academy. And in time, the sea lane—the only connection to the east lands—became crawling with demonic creatures and thus closed down three years ago. That same lane would not open again for another six years.

The male protagonist of the original novel would be the first to take advantage of the reopened trade routes, earning a great amount of wealth in the process, while my brother would hear the news of his family’s passing way too late.

The point is that for most of my life, it was as if I had no brother at all.

My father eventually squandered his wealth on constant gambling, leaving me without any inheritance. I suppose debts count as inheritance, depending on who you ask.

And it was Duke Icardes who lifted me out of financial ruin and brought me into his family. He may have had hidden motives, but he was the one who saved me from dying at some miserable orphanage, not my relatives who wanted nothing to do with me when I was thrown out—he was my savior. Running off from the Icardes Estate would’ve done me no good since I didn’t have a coin to my name and didn’t know anyone who could have hidden me.

“No,” I replied, slowly shaking my head. “I’m sure you already know, but my life wasn’t exactly merry, not at all... My father was rarely home.”

“He wasn’t,” he agreed.

“So I hope to live a different kind of life with my new family.” I put on a modest smile as I grabbed the damp, crimson handkerchief. “From the moment I met you, I knew I wanted to make you proud.” My pride was already on the floor, so I pushed even further. “You’ve taken care of my family’s debts... You are my savior, Father. I promise I will be good.”

Without speaking, Duke Klaudin calmly gazed out the window to his side and let out a sigh. Then he drew something out from his inner pocket and handed it to me.

“For me?” It was a clean handkerchief. I was so surprised that I didn’t know what else to do but blink in silence.

“You can’t bleed all over a bloody handkerchief now, can you? That would be most appalling.”

Oh... It seems like other people’s blood disgusts him. Still, much to his dismay, I couldn’t think of any better way to prove I was indeed deathly ill.

“Thank you, Father!” It was a cheap thing to do, I know. But what other choice did I have? I was the weakest person in this universe, and to survive meant I had to appeal to the powerful. It also helped that I was good at groveling. “I’ll use it well. Thank you very much.”

“All that fuss over a piece of linen...”

“It... It means a lot to me.” I carefully folded the new cloth and, warmly embracing it, said, “My own father never would have given me a thoughtful gift such as this.”

“Hmph.”

After that, he didn’t say a single word until we arrived at the academy. Having no more coughing fits to showcase, I, too, sat still and welcomed the silence.

“My lord. Madam Laria Icardes.” A servant approached our carriage and opened the door for us. “You’ve arrived.”

I, barely fourteen, was still stiff from being referred to as Madam. I’ll have him call me Lady Laria from now on...

At the servant’s polite greeting, we stepped out of the carriage.

Evan’s junior academy was considerably humbler and smaller than the duke’s estate.

Makes sense, I suppose. Most children of powerful and affluent families are homeschooled, not sent to an institution.

Only low-ranking noble families sent their children to academies such as this. Meanwhile, Klaudin had his only son enrolled—no, dumped—in this beat-up institution. It was a move many would consider irresponsible.

Yup. For years he’s been dodging his responsibilities as a father.

“When we return to the estate, put in an order for a hundred finely woven handkerchiefs,” the duke suddenly instructed the servant in a stern voice.

Does this mean... I need to keep coughing up blood?