Chapter 4

Dylan looked down at the small shoulders trembling like a leaf.

She was young to be the mother of a five-year-old child.

Was that why she was so naïve.

‘She has my weakness in her hands and yet chooses not to use it.’

Still, Agnes’s kind but reckless act was, in its own way, the right one.

Had she gone around shouting that she knew Dylan’s secret, he would have had no choice but to “take care” of her.

As long as she kept silent, Dylan had no desire to kill someone needlessly.

He rubbed his chin with his fingers and quietly looked down at her.

“You said ‘anytime,’ did you not.”

“Yes, Your Grace. Whenever you wish…”

“Doesn’t House Everchen restrict its young lady from acting freely.”

The question was spoken in a calm, neutral tone, not accusatory, yet Agnes’s eyes wavered.

It seemed Dylan had already done some research on her.

It was only natural. Agnes held his weakness.

In verifying whether she had loose lips, he must have learned something of her situation, how she was treated after being cast out from Overhen and returning to Everchen.

Agnes straightened her drooping head and cleared her throat.

“I’ve been thinking of leaving the Everchen estate.”

“So you’re prepared to live without the protection of your family.”

“Yes. It won’t be easy to find work right away, but I can learn anything. Besides, I’ve saved enough for Noah and me to live on our own. So you don’t need to worry that I’ll be tied down by the Everchens.”

If he was asking such questions, it meant Dylan had some interest in her offer.

Agnes’s golden eyes glimmered faintly with hope.

“After I get Noah back, I’ll move to the Vasteron estate so that Your Grace can find me whenever you wish.”

“Hm.”

With a thoughtful expression, Dylan reached out a hand.

Agnes flinched when his hand came close to her veil, but it stopped near her own hand instead.

“It would be better if you stood up. I have no hobby of keeping women on their knees.”

“But…”

“I understand your desperation, but your kneeling will not change my decision. I need some time to think, so please, rise.”

His tone was polite yet cool, hard to read.

Agnes slowly lifted her hand and placed it lightly in his palm.

His firm hand pulled her up with steady strength, helping her stand straight.

It had been so long since she felt such a sure, protective touch.

While she blinked in surprise, Dylan rang a small bell on the table to summon a servant.

When a maid entered, he looked up at Agnes.

“While I collect my thoughts, you should have that treated.”

“Pardon?”

Agnes blinked, not understanding. Dylan brushed a hand briefly over his own cheek.

“Oh…”

“I’m sorry I couldn’t pretend not to notice.”

“It’s all right. Thank you for your concern.”

The maid silently stepped forward, ready to guide her.

After a brief hesitation, Agnes lifted her skirt slightly and followed.

In the room where she was led, the Vasteron family’s physician soon arrived to tend to her cheek.

She had tried to hide the swelling behind her veil. How had he noticed?

Had he learned it while keeping an eye on her?

Or had she somehow given herself away in her manner.

Either way, the fact that he had not ignored it but offered treatment made her smile faintly.

‘He’s a kind man.’

Agnes thought of Dylan and smiled softly.

It made her happy to glimpse warmth in the man everyone feared.

As always, what people saw was never the whole truth.

The small boy she loved most in the world was proof of that.

Everyone at the Overhen estate had whispered that Noah was timid and dull, that his lack of charm made the count’s dislike understandable.

But with Agnes, he had been the sweetest child imaginable.

Noah loved walking through the garden and knew the names of countless plants. Sometimes he even knew the names of weeds that neither Agnes nor the gardener could identify.

Now and then, he would slip a pretty flower between the pages of her book and wait, heart fluttering, for her to find it.

When she gasped in delight and thanked him, Noah would grin with his tiny mouth open wide.

‘It’s the flower you said was pretty, Mom.’

Those words had felt like a blessing to her.

From a dutiful daughter to a dutiful wife, Agnes had lived like a wax doll, unseen and unheard. No one had ever cared what she liked or found beautiful.

But Noah was different.

In that cold household, he alone had treated her as a person and loved her with all his heart.

She would save him no matter what.

Even if Dylan refused her offer, she would find another way to free Noah from that house.

As that fierce determination burned within her, a maid bowed and spoke.

“My lady, the master has made his decision. Shall I take you back to the parlor?”

“Please do. Oh, wait.”

After a brief thought, Agnes chose not to put her veil back on.

Dylan already knew about her injury and had even arranged treatment.

To hide her face from him now would seem discourteous.

So she returned to the parlor bare-faced.

Dylan looked at her for a moment, then offered his arm with perfect composure.

Once they were seated and the maid had left, he spoke immediately.

“I’ll accept the arrangement.”

Agnes froze, then quickly composed her expression.

But she could not completely hide her joy.

“Thank you, Your Grace. Truly, thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. To make this deal efficient, I have a proposal.”

“Yes, please go ahead. I’ll do anything I can.”

“You probably can. I just don’t know if you’ll want to.”

His voice carried a faint trace of irony. Agnes, puzzled, couldn’t read his expression.

He gazed at her calm, bright face and said quietly,

“Agnes Everchen, will you marry me.”

This time, she couldn’t hide her shock.

Dylan was royal by birth, once even considered a possible crown prince, and now the duke of a vast northern land.

Agnes, by contrast, was a viscount’s daughter, divorced and raising a five-year-old child.

Her beauty, grace, intelligence, and skill in managing a household no longer mattered.

Among nobles, once branded a divorced woman with a child, everything else lost its worth.

Agnes trembled slightly, repeating the vast gap in her mind.

“I wouldn’t dare…”

“It’s not about daring. I’m under a curse that forces me to drink blood regularly. At best, I can endure a week. Any longer and I lose my reason and become what the world calls a monster.”

At that moment, even the air around Dylan seemed to change.

The temperature in the room dropped.

Agnes could feel his self-loathing, his contempt for himself, seeping through every word.

“If you become my wife, I’ll have no reason to harm anyone else. But once you start coming and going from my residence, there will be… other misunderstandings.”

“To prevent rumors that Your Grace and I are in an improper relationship.”

Dylan nodded.

“Such gossip would hurt you as well, especially if I help you gain custody of Noah Overhen. And as a royal, I must also preserve my dignity.”

“That’s something I can’t deny.”

“Also, I must return to the north before the social season ends. Royals cannot linger in the capital too long. But I assume you don’t wish to leave the city until your son is back.”

Agnes immediately nodded.

If necessary, she would put this deal before anything else.

She knew she was of little use in retrieving Noah on her own, but if possible, she wanted to stay in the capital, close to him.

“If I marry, I’ll have a reason to remain in the capital. Royals are required to hold their weddings here.”

He lifted a hand briefly and let it fall, as if to conclude his explanation. Agnes already sensed what he would say next.

‘But you won’t want to marry a monster, so think carefully.’

Dylan rarely showed his feelings, but this much was obvious.

Right now, he wore the same expression he’d had that night in the garden, after feeding, when he’d been overcome by shame.

Agnes couldn’t bear to let him finish that thought. She spoke before he could.

“I will.”

Dylan’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if unsure he’d heard her right. Agnes spoke again, clearly and firmly.

“I will marry you, Your Grace. If you’ll help me and my child, I’m willing to become your person. Please, let it be so.”

Dylan opened his mouth as if to argue, then gave a short, incredulous laugh and lowered his head.

There was no way she did not understand what he had meant.

The fact that he was a man who drank blood did not matter to her at all.

She almost looked as if she wanted to comfort him.

He could not help but smile faintly.

“This isn’t a contract with an expiration date. It will be closer to a political marriage.”