The Virtually Exiled Duke’s Daughter Is Troubled When Her Fiancé in a Neighboring Country Says, "I Will Never Love You" - Episode 56

(…Ah, Maggie.)

A warm light lit up in Gary Sisley’s heart.

(Ah, can you see this? It’s all thanks to you!)

The wife he once considered merely ornamental blushed shyly and spoke her true feelings.

Her expression was like a tightly closed crimson rosebud finally blooming or a wary cat, which had always kept its distance from humans, at last warming up and purring in contentment.

The duke’s daughter who had first arrived at the mansion, always hiding her true thoughts behind a polite smile, cold and flawless like a doll, was no longer there.

This was undoubtedly the result of the marquis and everyone in the Sisley household treating Deborah with care and respect day after day.

It was an achievement that would not have been possible without Magdala, who had loved and cherished everyone in the Sisley household, and who, even on her deathbed, had left behind her final words: “Do not hate anyone. Do not hold grudges.”

He had never been able to have children with his beloved late wife. But even so, he could feel her legacy living on here. His eyes grew hot with emotion.

“L-Lady Deborah…!”

But the marquis’s teary eyes soon returned to normal. Before he could react, the maid Shelly, overwhelmed with emotion, rushed to Deborah’s side, her voice trembling.

“I—I love you too, Lady Deborah!”

“…Oh my, really?”

Deborah’s eyes widened in genuine surprise before she gave a gentle smile, like the melting of snow in spring.

“If that’s true, then I’m happy… I always felt that, given my position, I shouldn’t grow too close to anyone to remain impartial. So, I never had close friends…”

“!! If you say something like that—”

Shelly’s tears flowed freely as she sniffled loudly. At that moment, Mrs. Lauren approached, half exasperated but also speaking with a kind tone.

“Shelly, it’s good to build bonds, but remember, you are still in Lady Deborah’s service. You must maintain a proper boundary.”

“Yes…”

“But, well, I do understand. I feel the same way, after all.”

“Huh?”

As Deborah and Shelly stared at her in surprise, the head maid gave a small cough before continuing.

“Lady Deborah, Lady Magdala was a very special person to me. Though she was my mistress, she also felt like a beloved younger sister. My relationship with you is different, of course… but still, I truly wish to serve you with all my heart. That is how I feel now.”

Her usual serious and composed expression remained, but the slight softening at the corners of her mouth and the gentle shift in her tone made it clear to both Deborah and those around her—this was her way of saying, *I like you too.*

Deborah’s smile grew even brighter—a genuine, childlike, pure, and beautiful smile.

“Mrs. Lauren, thank you. I don’t even know what to say… I’m truly happy.”

“The pleasure is mine. Lady Deborah, regarding the embroidery from earlier—I’m not particularly skilled, but if it’s just teaching you how to hold the needle and do basic stitches, I believe I can help.”

“Thank you. That would be a great help!”

“Oh! Lady Deborah, if you’re planning to create a guide for embroidery techniques, what if you focus more on illustrations rather than written instructions?”

“Illustrations?”

“Yes, that way, even those who cannot read can understand. It would be difficult to make, though…”

“You’re right! Shelly, thank you. I’ll start drawing right away.”

As the three of them happily discussed their plans, the marquis watched them warmly before returning to his room.

It was only a little later that he realized something.

Deborah had said, *I always felt that, given my position, I shouldn’t grow too close to anyone to remain impartial.* Previously, just before he took her to the greenhouse, she had also said, *Speaking my mind freely is unacceptable for a noblewoman.*

He had thought about it then as well—she must have felt incredibly constrained in her homeland. As the crown prince’s fiancée and future queen, her every move had been under constant scrutiny. Perhaps there had also been a ruthless struggle among women, leaving her no opportunity to form close friendships.

(But… something feels off. What is it?)

The marquis felt frustrated by the vague unease settling in his chest.

Deborah’s earlier expression—her innocent honesty—did not seem like a lie. He didn’t want to believe it was. He wanted to trust that Magdala’s kindness, still lingering in this mansion, had given peace to a lonely girl.

Yet, he couldn’t shake off the unease. Considering her past actions and how she had just today proposed *avoiding contact with outsiders to prevent suspicion*, it was unthinkable that she was a spy.

“…Ah.”

At last, Gary Sisley realized something. Deborah had been utterly alone in her homeland.

She had said her father had strictly warned her to hide her true feelings and avoid meaningless conversations. She had no close friends. It was possible she had confided in at least one maid, but she had come to this country alone, without any attendants. Given how she interacted with Shelly and Mrs. Lauren earlier, perhaps she had never even had the chance to open her heart to a maid.

Then… who had supported her lonely heart? By process of elimination, it had to be her fiancé, Prince Aaron.

According to the intelligence Swallow had gathered, rumors in the Mammut Kingdom claimed that *the prince had fallen ill and moved to a remote palace, and he had broken off the engagement to avoid dragging Deborah into his misfortune. Deborah only learned of this afterward and, rather than marry another royal or high-ranking noble, chose to live as a political hostage for the sake of peace.*

At first glance, it seemed logical. Given her selfless nature, it made sense that she would take such action, just as she had expressed a desire to contribute upon arriving here.

But why would her father—the man who had forced her through rigorous training to become crown princess—allow it? With her beauty and intelligence, she would have had no shortage of suitors. A man like her father would surely have used her as a political tool.

(*Becoming a hostage was… the most useful role for her?*)

Immediately, he sat at his desk, pulled out a formal letter with the family crest, and wrote down his thoughts concisely. Sealing it with wax, he called out,

“Ashley, take this to the neighboring territory immediately.”

The head butler glanced at the envelope’s address: *To my dear R.*

It was the same recipient he had secretly consulted regarding the Cornell matter—the second prince.

“As you wish.”

With a graceful bow, Ashley swiftly left the room to arrange for the fastest horse in the household.