The Virtually Exiled Duke’s Daughter Is Troubled When Her Fiancé in a Neighboring Country Says, "I Will Never Love You" - Episode 63

In the carriage, Deborah heard about the roles assigned by her second brother, Leroy. Aaron was cast as “the prince who faked a broken engagement to hide his incurable illness,” while Deborah was portrayed as “the saintly daughter who willingly became a hostage for the sake of peace.”

However, after she was sent to the neighboring country, the public received this narrative far better than expected. Beyond even Leroy and the royal family’s predictions, the people’s reaction was so strong that, coupled with a poor wheat harvest, some even began calling to “bring back the saint.”

Since Deborah was confined to the Sisley Marquis’ residence and denied outside information, she had no way of knowing this. Yet, one of her strengths was piecing together possibilities from the little information she did have.

*(I thought that letter was full of lies except for the part about the poison, but maybe the line “Many people in both the territory and the royal capital are waiting for your return” was actually true.)*

If the royal family had announced such a melodramatic, ridiculous lie, and not only had the public believed it, but also sympathized with her, to the point where many wished for her return…

Then it was a serious problem for both the royal family and the ducal house. If Deborah were to return from Volks, they would have to live in fear of the truth leaking out. Yet, ignoring the people’s demands would be bad for appearances, so they had to at least pretend they were trying to bring her back.

Thus, if Deborah were to die in Volks, everything would be neatly resolved. From Mammut’s perspective, they would also have a perfect excuse to stop paying war reparations—killing two birds with one stone.

*(…Ah, I’m not even allowed to return!)*

Her vision was dim, obscured by the book in front of her. Then, as despair settled over her, she realized something. Even if she begged Riold to let her return home, and even if he agreed, it would be meaningless.

Deborah knew the way Ozma and Leroy thought since she was a child. If she considered the situation from their perspective, it was obvious what would happen.

If she were allowed to return, what kind of scheme would her father and brothers come up with? Most likely, the moment she was handed over at the border, she would be secretly imprisoned and eventually killed.

Then, after some time had passed, they would make an announcement:

*”Lady Deborah Mauzy, the Duke’s daughter, was oppressed in the Marquis’ estate in the Kingdom of Volks. Though she was rescued just in time, her mind had already been deeply wounded, and despite receiving care at home, she ultimately took her own life.”*

This would redirect all the people’s anger toward the neighboring country.

A chill ran down her spine. She was afraid of being killed, but what horrified her even more—

Was that the Sisley Marquis family, the kind, warm people who had become important to her, would be falsely accused and dishonored.

*(I can’t let that happen. Absolutely not. I can’t let these people suffer any more!)*

Her fingers tightened around the book in her hands, and her body began to tremble slightly.

Seeing this, Shelly spoke up.

*”Oh, Lady Deborah, you’re always so serious about the strangest things. You must be forcing yourself to read because you feel bad for Lauren!”*

She completely misunderstood the situation.

*”But there’s no need to read if it’s making you suffer. Let’s do something else!”*

*”…”*

Deborah let out a slow, deep breath. Then she lowered the book and forced a smile, even though she knew it was fake.

*”You’re right. Maybe I should work on a new embroidery design instead.”*

*”That’s a great idea! Let’s do that!”*

Shelly’s face lit up as she quickly moved to put the book away. Just as Deborah was about to close it, her eyes caught a word at the edge of the page.

It was a common word found in countless romance novels—*”love.”*

Perhaps it was just coincidence that her eyes landed on it. But to her, it was a word that would determine her fate.

*”Love…”*

*”Huh? Did you say something?”*

Shelly asked, but Deborah just shook her head with a faint smile.

*”It’s nothing.”*

Then, she handed the book over to Shelly, her mind drifting to thoughts inspired by that single word.

—

That evening, as dinner was coming to an end, Deborah spoke up.

*”Marquis, may I have a moment of your time later? There is something I wish to discuss.”*

*”Of course.”*

*”Then I will visit your office later.”*

*”Alright.”*

Unlike the previous incident with the handkerchief, the Marquis was not surprised by her request to speak in his office. Tonight, Deborah seemed entirely different.

She was dressed in an extravagant gown from the ducal house, barely touched the meal she usually enjoyed, and even under the warm glow of the candlelight, her face remained pale. Her expression was tense, filled with deep contemplation.

The Marquis assumed it had something to do with the letter she received that day. Still, he was pleased that, rather than keeping everything to herself, she was choosing to confide in him.

After dinner, he waited for her in his office. He had already asked for tea and wine to be prepared, and when Deborah entered, he gestured toward the low table where the drinks were placed.

*”Would you like something to drink?”*

*”No… um.”*

She hesitated for a moment, then looked up and met his gaze directly.

*”I apologize, but may I ask you to dismiss everyone else?”*

This was unexpected. The Marquis, as well as the head butler and the head maid present, were slightly taken aback.

*”You don’t want them to hear?”*

*”Ah… um.”*

Deborah furrowed her delicate brows, struggling to find the right words.

*”I trust Ashley and Mrs. Lauren. But right now, I need to speak with you alone. Please forgive my selfish request.”*

*”…Alright. But they will remain just outside the door.”*

*”Of course.”*

At the Marquis’ signal, Ashley and Mrs. Lauren gave small nods before leaving the room. Once the door was quietly shut, he gestured for Deborah to sit on the guest couch while he took his own chair. Hoping to ease her tension, he poured himself a drink and asked in a casual tone—

*”So, what is it?”*

*”I have a request.”*

*”Go on. If it’s within my power, I’ll listen.”*

*”Please… give me a child.”*

The Marquis nearly dropped his glass. It hit the low table with a dull *thud*, spilling the amber liquid inside. But that was the least of his concerns.

*”…What did you just say?”*

*”I am asking you to lay with me.”*

She was an undeniably beautiful woman, yet her expression and tone carried not a trace of seduction.

*”Lady Deborah, I told you before—I…”*

*”I know. You don’t need to love me, Marquis. Just consider this an act for the sole purpose of conceiving a child.”*

*”No, you’re a hostage—”*

*”Touching me won’t lessen my value. In fact, if I bear your child, my worth will increase. That child would serve as a symbol of peace between our two nations.”*