If You Want To Possess Me (9 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 8

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Bang! The moment she came to her senses, Kisa sharply slapped Daniel’s hand away.

“You lunatic.”

“Oh dear, does a lady like you really know such vulgar words? Be careful—Father will scold you if he hears.”

Daniel stepped back a pace and whistled.

“You… what do you think I am? Just because I seem foolish in your eyes, you assume I can’t feel emotions?”

Kisa’s voice trembled with humiliation, but her opponent remained perfectly composed.

“What more exaggeration could you possibly come up with? Producing an heir is a noble’s duty. Is fulfilling that duty really so wrong?”

“Is that even—”

“Kisa, did I ever ask you to love me sincerely? Or did I merely suggest you get along with Hazel?”

While Kisa stood speechless from sheer disbelief, Daniel brazenly continued.

“After all, whether it’s you or me, as nobles born into our houses, we must marry and have children for the sake of our lineage. If that’s the case, wouldn’t it be better to choose someone we’ve known for years?”

“…So that’s the only reason you insist on marrying me?”

“Exactly. With other women, I’d need time to properly assess them. There’s always the risk of hidden shameful pasts. But not with you. Besides, I quite like you.”

Ridiculous. Is this how someone treats the person they claim to like?

“Remember? When we were kids, we even built a grave for Whiskers Jack right here.”

Whiskers Jack was the nickname Kisa had given to a stray cat that often begged for scraps from the Bansfeldt household—the black fur under its nose resembling a mustache.

“We’ve shared enough nostalgic memories like that, haven’t we? Even if we can’t become a couple bound by love, surely we could live together amicably?”

“…Drop it. If you look down on me that much, don’t expect anything amicable from me.”

“Is it because I called you foolish? I already apologized for that last time. And this time, if you hadn’t brought up Hazel yourself, I wouldn’t have said it.”

What an absurd excuse. Even without calling her foolish, Daniel had never treated Kisa as his equal.

“So you’re the Bansfeldt family’s tattletale little miss.”

“What, are you going to scurry off to Father again to report me?”

His attitude clearly mocked her as someone inferior and naive. Even considering his foul mood from being summoned by Count Bansfeldt, this was hardly appropriate treatment for a fiancée.

In truth, he’d always been like this. Back then, Kisa—infatuated with Daniel—had simply dismissed it as playful teasing between childhood friends.

“That’s why, Kisa, stop this pointless defiance and marry me as promised. As long as you properly fulfill your role as my wife, I won’t meddle unnecessarily in your life.”

“In other words, you’ll live exactly as you please.”

“As long as I fulfill my duties as a husband, that’s all that matters. Like I’ve said before, marrying me doesn’t make me your possession. Don’t interfere in my friendships or hobbies.”

“So while I bear and raise your child, you’ll keep seeing that woman.”

“I won’t deny it. After all, we’ve sworn eternal friendship.”

“You lunatic.”

“Once you’ve borne my child, you’re free to see other men if you wish. That’s beyond my concern. What do you think? It’s not a bad offer, is it?”

Daniel turned away, wearing a benevolent smile as if he’d just granted her a generous favor.

“I’ll be off now. I should discuss with Father when to set our wedding date. I’ll also ask for your father’s opinion.”

There was no room for Kisa’s own wishes in that plan.

“Marriage….”

After Daniel left, Kisa sank into a chair beneath the gazebo and murmured blankly.

If the three others—excluding Kisa—reached an agreement, she’d have no choice but to marry. Her only possible escape was to run away before the wedding day arrived.

But where could she possibly go? Kisa knew nothing of the world beyond the fences her father had built.

“Do I really have to get married?”

The late winter wind, carrying a lonely chill, brushed against her skin.

[This is the timeline separator]

“Marriage, you say?”

At Seyard’s question, the lady flashed a bright smile.

“Yes, marriage. Duke Hiran.”

Arta Devon Sorbi, youngest daughter of the king and princess of the Sorbi Kingdom, stated her intention without hesitation.

“Of course, it’s too soon after your late father’s passing to make this official, but shouldn’t we discuss it privately in advance?”

“I see.”

“You look as if you’re reluctant. Why? Is inheriting your brother’s fiancée truly so distasteful?”

She struck straight to the heart without veering aside. Seyard stared into his teacup before speaking.

“Do you truly wish to marry me, Your Highness?”

Trending

The answer came instantly.

“Of course. Who wouldn’t desire the chance to become mistress of House Hiran?”

“It’s not as desirable up close as it appears from afar.”

“Perhaps not to you, but it’s tempting enough for me. That’s precisely why His Majesty made the promise with your father—to betroth each other’s children.”

“But the son promised to you wasn’t me. Now that my brother is dead, you’re no longer bound by that old agreement.”

“…Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

After a brief silence, Arta furrowed her perfectly groomed eyebrows and grumbled.

“I suddenly think His Majesty should’ve added one condition back then—like if misfortune befell either betrothed, rendering the engagement void, another sibling would inherit the arrangement.”

Seyard responded with a faint smile, and the princess spoke listlessly.

“I know. Normally, no one would make such an ill-omened provision on a joyous occasion like arranging children’s futures. But Duke Hiran, marrying me would benefit you as well. You know that, don’t you?”

“It would be the greatest honor. Yet I… am not my late brother, nor can I replace him.”

“I don’t expect you to replace him.”

Setting his teacup on the table, Seyard began, “Your Highness—”

“If I may be so bold, what you need most right now is rest and time.”

His gaze swept over her pale, lifeless cheeks and slender wrists.

“I’ve heard you’ve endured a difficult time since losing your fiancé. Thus, discussing marriage with me might be premature—”

Ha ha ha ha. Seyard stopped mid-sentence as her sudden, hearty laughter filled the room.

“Duke, surely you don’t truly believe I’m drowning in sorrow, do you?”

The princess giggled loudly, clearly delighted.

“If you do, you’re rather naive. This is obviously just a show for outsiders—it’s barely been two months since my childhood fiancé died, after all.”

Her pale pink fingernail swept aside a lock of hair.

“Well, at least it means my efforts of starving myself for days weren’t wasted—I must’ve looked convincingly heartbroken.”

“…I had no idea. I was told your relationship with my brother was perfectly amicable.”

“He was an excellent fiancé. Visheak Hiran, as you know, was exceedingly noble and rational. But a man whose thoughts are utterly inscrutable isn’t to my taste.”

Meeting Seyard’s eyes directly, Arta added,

“You, however, suit me quite well. You share his face, yet differ in this regard—I understand far too clearly why you’re refusing my proposal.”

“…”

“You simply don’t want to inherit even your future spouse from your brother, do you? I understand. If my elder sister died, I’d be insulted too if forced to take her fiancé—after all, I’m not some substitute.”

“I don’t really think of it that way.”

“Liar. Deep down, you truly despised your brother.”

Even the heavy silence that settled over the parlor couldn’t silence the princess’s bold words.

“You may be honest with me, Seyard. After all, you were sent to the monastery simply for being the younger twin. What outdated superstition—that twins bring misfortune!”

“It was my parents’ decision.”

“Still, it must be hard to like him. Until his tragic death, he possessed everything you were denied.”

For a long while, they simply stared at each other in silence. Finally, the noble royal—Arta Devon Sorbi, who rightfully held the privilege—broke the quiet.

“I suppose I’ve revealed enough now. You understand, don’t you? My relationship with your brother wasn’t as close as everyone assumed.”

Thus, you may take my hand. Her tone implied as much. Yet when Seyard still gave no clear answer, the princess sighed faintly and spoke more directly.

“Duke, don’t you wish to surpass your brother? Then marry me, strengthen ties with the royal house, and accomplish what he never could.”

[This is the timeline separator]

“Welcome, Your Grace.”

Seyard gave a slight nod at his secretary Gilliam’s greeting and climbed into the carriage through the door Gilliam held open. Gilliam followed smoothly, sitting across from Seyard, and asked,

“How was your audience?”

Seyard tugged off his cravat with a rough motion and tossed it onto the seat before replying curtly,

“It was exhausting.”

“She’s no easy person, is she, the princess?”

“Unlike the countless flatterers I’ve met here, she speaks bluntly without euphemisms. Her goals are clear, and she has keen insight to achieve them. But…”

Gazing out the carriage window as it departed the royal palace, he murmured,

“Even she misunderstood one thing about me.”

“What’s that?”

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“That I have little interest in surpassing Visheak.”

Moreover, Seyard had no intention whatsoever of acting according to her wishes.

“I’d better find a suitable marriage prospect soon.”

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