An Early Engagement - Chapter 58

“Can we really become husband and wife?”

The moment those words reached his ears, it felt like a deafening bell had struck inside Damian’s skull.

Can we really become husband and wife?

That was practically a denial of everything between them—all the history they had built, the memories they shared, the legitimacy of their betrothal that had been set in stone since childhood.

Weren’t we already husband and wife in all but name? They had even exchanged formal bows before the Emperor. The only thing missing was the wedding ceremony.

He wanted to demand an explanation, to dig deeper into what she meant. But the look in Shirley’s eyes told him everything without needing to ask.

She’s repulsed by me.

All the tension drained from Damian’s body.

He had walked so briskly that he was now quite far from Shirley. He worried about leaving her alone, but if he stayed near her any longer, he wasn’t sure what he might do.

He wanted to push her down onto the grass—that small, delicate body of hers.

He wanted to answer her question—Can we really become husband and wife?—by proving it to her with his own body.

We already are.

If Shirley had known just how unhinged he was in that moment—

The thought alone made his head spin. She would never want to see him again. She might hide at the mere sight of his shadow. She might cling to the Duchess and sob, begging not to marry him.

…And so what?

If the alternative was annulling their engagement, then he’d rather make her cry. Even if he had to force her into his arms and coax her into submission, he would never let their betrothal break.

“Ha.”

They had known each other for so long. They had seen each other at their most vulnerable. Maybe it was only natural that she didn’t see him as a man.

What should I do?

How could he change Shirley’s mind—the fact that she didn’t see him as a man, that she couldn’t imagine him as her husband?

Damian, now facing the very real risk of losing his fiancée, felt his expression darken in an instant.

“Lord Elpart.”

“……”

“Lord Damian de Elpart.”

“Ah—yes, Professor.”

“That was the third time I called your name.”

“My apologies.”

It was afternoon at the Imperial Academy. The professor sighed lightly, watching Damian—who had only just looked up after being addressed by his full title three times in a row.

“Care to share what was so engrossing?”

“Nothing at all. Please punish me, Professor.”

“…Come to my office later and help me reorganize my desk.”

“Understood.”

As soon as he answered, the bell signaling the end of class rang out.

Even after the professor and the rest of the students had left the lecture hall, Damian remained seated, motionless, sinking back into the thoughts he had been interrupted from earlier.

What did I do wrong?

That single question consumed him.

“Can we really become husband and wife?”

Even though he attended the Academy—an institution reserved for the top one percent of the Empire’s elite—he had utterly failed to secure the heart of the one person who mattered most. That realization plunged him into a pit of crushing self-loathing.

No amount of studying or intellect could help him now.

Loving someone, cherishing them, treating them well—none of it guaranteed they would feel the same way in return.

So what should he do?

Tap. Tap-tap.

The rhythm of his fingers against the desk sped up, then slowed, repeating in an erratic pattern.

The afternoon sun stretched long across the lecture hall.

He should have been moving to his next class, but Damian couldn’t care less. Missing a lecture or two wouldn’t affect his grades enough to matter.

The real issue was whether he would lose Shirley—a crossroads far more critical than any academic failure. And the answer to that wouldn’t be found in textbooks or professors’ lectures.

He had thought he knew everything about her. Like rabbits in a carefully tended hutch, he assumed her behavior would always stay within predictable bounds. But that had been his mistake—his arrogance.

Now, urgency gnawed at him. He needed to understand Shirley. The parts of her he didn’t know. The blind spots in his perception.

Why? Since when? What had planted that doubt in her mind? And why had it only surfaced after the coming-of-age ceremony?

To find out, he needed to conduct a few… experiments.

Yes. That was the answer.

Hearing the truth from Shirley’s own lips had been more bitter than he expected.

But the conclusion was clear: They knew each other too well.

Like air taken for granted with every breath, like water reached for without thought when thirsty—familiarity had dulled her awareness of him as a man.