# 3 -
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“It might be an amusing sight, but it won't happen, Miss Enohater.”
Leaning carelessly on the doorstep, Yuan spoke with his eyes fixed on Seret.
The traces of blood that were scattered on his face were now completely wiped off, and his injured forehead bore marks of ointment.
“Your Highness, the Duke.”
Hana looked nervously at Yuan, but Seret's expression was only full of hostility.
"There will be no such thing as breaking off our engagement. How's your foot?"
Rushing towards her, Yuan glanced at her bandaged foot and asked.
"What do you mean by that?"
Seret asked sharply, working hard to hide her surprise.
After everything that happened, he still refuses to end the engagement? She raised her eyes to Yuan, who had come very close.
The gash that marred his smooth forehead seemed strangely out of place. On Duke Yuan Freaktwister's flawless face, even the smallest blemish looked unnatural.
“I asked how your feet were. Is that a difficult question for Miss Innaughter to answer?”
Although he spoke with a smile, Yuan's words were dripping with sarcasm. He even seemed to enjoy it.
"Not exactly a simple question, is it? Do you even realize what your face looks like now when you say that?"
Seret replied coldly. To insist on maintaining an engagement with a fiancée who had disfigured his face—Yoan Frecktwister seemed no less mad.
Yuan laughed briefly, then looked at Hana.
“Can you leave us alone?”
“Excuse me? Ah, yes, Your Highness.”
Hannah answered anxiously. Although she obeyed, she seemed uneasy about leaving her mistress alone. What if her mistress tried to do something rash to the Duke again? Unable to shake her worry, Hana kept glancing at Seret until the moment she left the room.
When he closed the door, Yuan raised his hand and traced the wound that Seret had made on his face. Speak slowly.
“I already checked the badge you etched on my face in the mirror, Miss Inwheater.”
“It wasn't just Sam, was it?”
“You spit on me too.”
Yuan's tone was annoyingly casual, as if the matter was nothing.
“Yet, despite this humiliation, you refuse to end our engagement. How generous of you, Your Highness.”
Seret rose, gathered her nightgown in her hand, and bowed with exaggerated respect.
Yuan placed his hand on his chest, bowing slightly in response to the greeting.
Sarcasm vs. sarcasm.
Syret stared at him, then sat back on the bed.
"I mean it sincerely. I want to end this engagement, Your Highness."
Her voice was calm, her hands folded neatly on her lap. Unlike the previous moments, she now embodied the ideal image of a young noblewoman. To any observer, the contrast would have seemed absurd.
Yuan himself was surprised. Moments ago, she was burning with rage like a rabid dog. Now she looked like the daughter of a respectable baron family.
“You are very different from what you were before, Miss Enohater.”
With his hands in his pockets, Yuan looked at her.
“I realized something.”
Seret's icy blue eyes sparkled. Getting angry about events that haven't happened yet will only make her look like a crazy woman. No one would believe her, no matter what she said.
In fact, she wanted nothing more than to slap Yuan in the face again. But she restrained herself—he was, after all, the formidable Duke of Freaktwister.
The Enwhater family has always served his family. More disrespect can only bring ruin to her family.
“What is this realization, I wonder?”
“I'm going crazy.”
Seret looked directly into Yuan's eyes. No sane man would marry a crazy woman.
However, even though his fiancée had just declared her crazy, Yuan's expression did not change at all.
He just smiled with his usual sarcastic smile and answered calmly.
“An interesting disease. The Frecktwister family contributes generously to the Academy of Psychiatry.”
“So, you mean it wouldn't be a problem for me to be detained in an asylum?”
Seret smiled faintly as she met his gaze. Locking up the wife and living happily with Lydia—better than killing her outright, right?
“Your imagination is overactive, Miss Innaughter.”
“Is it really so?”
I know your future.
When Lydia, your first love, became a widow, you used her convalescence as an excuse to invite her to your palace. And in the same house you lived in, you enjoyed your love affair shamelessly.
Seret gripped the hem of her nightgown tightly, a forced smile twitching at the corners of her lips.
“My father, the Baron, requests that you stay for lunch before leaving.”
Yuan pulled his hands out of his pockets as if to say enough of this nonsense and turned towards the door.
“I know you feel a debt to the Enwhatter family. But there is no need to repay that debt through marriage.”
Seret spoke to his back.
That was true. Duke Charlie Frecktwister—Yuan's father—owes his life to her father, the current Baron Enwhatter.
In their youth, the two men were involved in a carriage accident. The driver was killed, and the horses were scattered. Despite his injuries, Baron Enohater carried the young, seriously injured Duke Frecktwister on his back, and walked an entire day to reach the ducal palace.
Thanks to him, the Duke survived. But the Baron was left with persistent damage to his left arm.
At the entrance, Yuan turned back. His frosty eyes fixed on Seret, and his lips curved in cold disdain.
“It's none of Miss Enohater's business.”
“Just pay it back with money, Your Highness.”
At her words, Yuan stared at her intently, then crossed the room in a few steps, and once again stood in front of her.
“Money alone can never express the depth of this gratitude.”
“Your Highness.”
“Not long ago, you called me ‘Yuan’ so easily.”
Lifting her chin slightly with his fingers, Yuan leaned down and touched his lips to her cheek.
The sudden contact made her shiver. The feeling of his lips on her skin was so palpable that her body instantly stiffened.
In her past life, Yuan hugged her almost every day. A cold husband by day, a shockingly emotional man by night.
But Seret knew his true heart, unable to embrace Lydia, he was only using his wife to satisfy his own desires.
“Bye, Seret.”
Yuan smiled in that way that belonged to him alone—polite yet imperious, respectful yet unbearably arrogant.
As soon as he left, Hannah hurried back inside, examining her mistress anxiously.
“Miss, are you okay? Did something happen?”
“I'm fine. Just tidy the room.”
Seret answered weakly and lay down on the bed. That brief touch brought back memories of nights with Yuan.
For a while, I thought she was really lovable. But once I learned the truth, those nights were nothing but hell.
'The Duchess is just a substitute. Who doesn't know that?'
'Shut up! The Duchess may hear you.'
It was at a tea party held in the Ducal Palace. I left the room briefly, and heard their gossiping as soon as the door closed—followed by cruel laughter.
Even now, that mocking laughter was echoing in her ears. Seret pressed her hands tightly to her ears.
It will never happen again. You will never go back to that terrible time.
Seret raised a mouthful of veal to her lips, her eyes studying Yuan across the table.
Every movement he made while eating was refined, like a living painting. His face, perfectly proportioned, as if it had been drawn by the hand of an artist who had devoted years to the painting.
That face—flawless—suddenly bothered her again.
“Your Highness.”
Siret wiped her lips after swallowing, and addressed her words to him.
“Seret.”
Her father, Baron Enohater, called to her with a worried look. She gave him a reassuring smile before turning her attention back to Yuan.
They met eyes. Yuan put down his fork and knife for a moment, and waited for her to speak.
“Yes, Miss Enohater?”
“Thank you for accompanying me to the capital. I could not refuse the imperial invitation, but it worried me greatly. With Your Highness showing me such kindness, I hardly know how to express my gratitude.”
"It's only natural. Miss Enohater is my fiancée."
He drank water elegantly as he spoke.
“You spend more than half the year in the capital, so it seems that you will see many of your acquaintances at the Emperor’s party.”
“Many people are eager to meet you.”
His eyes scanned her as if he was searching for something. His intention was so transparent that it seemed uncharacteristic.
“How curious they must be—that the future Duchess of Frecktwister is a simple-minded villager.”
“Cough—! Siret.”
The Baron choked on his food at her words, and coughed as he called for his daughter.
"I'd be curious too. Grand Duke Frecktwister marrying the worthless daughter of a simple provincial nobleman? The gossip practically reaches us even here."
In fact, in her previous life, Seret had heard everything. A foolish villager. The unmentionable daughter of a remote county baron.
I remembered women hiding behind their fans, whispering and laughing.
And at the center of it all—Lydia.
Lydia Elliot. Although she was officially the daughter of Count Eliot, her real father was the Emperor.
Her mother, once a prostitute, was the emperor's mistress. He even arranged her marriage to an elderly subordinate.
The Emperor loved her mother so much that people joked that he was living under her skirt. After multiple miscarriages, she finally gave birth to Lydia.
Perhaps because she was the long-awaited child of his beloved mistress, the Emperor cherished Lydia more than the Crown Prince.
When Lydia's mother died, the Emperor pampered her excessively.
Thus, Lydia lived in luxury and power, no less than that of a princess.
She was a jewel of high society, the subject of everyone's admiration and praise. From the beginning, a provincial girl like Seret was no competition for her.
“D.C. society is always full of gossip. A noisy place. Better to listen with one ear and out the other.”
Yuan cut off another piece of veal as he spoke.
"I don't know. I think I'll hear too many stories to ignore."
Seret shrugged lightly.
"Is this correct?"
Yuan's response was indifferent, as if it did not concern him at all.
It seemed like he didn't really care what others said about his fiancée.
“Even here, far from the capital, rumors reach us. Imagine how much more I'll hear once we get there.”
“What are these rumours?”
“Trivial tales. For example...”
“For example?”
“Joan Frecktwister’s first love was Lydia Elliot.”
Seret fixed her gaze on Yuan as she spoke.
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