Tamed A Blackened Slave Man - Chapter 73: Someone Who I Trust

Aren’s gentle hand lightly brushed against the one Damian had extended. She didn’t choose Cassadin, but him. Assured of this fact, a smile began to inch its way onto Damian’s face.

“Your Grace.”

Her voice was clear, reminiscent of a tranquil sea. It resonated in his ears, a sound as clear and serene as her blue eyes.

Perhaps it was due to her profession as a healer, but Aren’s voice was undeniably pure and lucid.

“Cassadin is not a beast.”

Her voice held a certainty, as though she were stating a fact. However, the content of her response caused Damian’s raised lips to slowly falter.

Slipping out of Damian’s grasp, her hand intertwined with the beast’s. A faint smile on Aren’s face appeared after holding Cassadin’s hand.

As Aren smiled, the evening sun sank into the windows, causing her platinum hair to sparkle like gold in the sunlight.

Damian’s hand, having lost its destination, began to tremble. What was the reason? Why had she chosen him even after learning everything?

Cassadin gazed down at Aren, his eyes filled with deep obsession. Watching these two made Damian feel as if his insides were churning.

His heart must have perceived the anger its owner was feeling, for it also decided to rebel against him. Damian took several deep breaths to alleviate the pain.

Managing to force a smile onto his face, Damian turned to question Aren.

“I must ask the reason.”

“……”

“Why have you taken that beast’s hand instead of mine?”

Perhaps she had gone insane from their absurd game of make-believe. Damian repressed the words that were threatening to come out of his mouth.

The words that had finally left Aren’s mouth were something he would expect to hear from a saint.

“Why should there be a reason?”

“……”

“Whether Cassadin is family or not doesn’t change the fact that he is now someone I trust.”

Aren then smiled, her grin as radiant as the sunlight illuminating her hair. It was a smile born out of absolute trust. For reasons unknown, Damian found himself unable to look away from it.

“My deepest apologies, Your Grace. However, it’s getting late, and I must be on my way.”

“You’re leaving then.”

“Yes, my father awaits me. Moreover, it would be inappropriate for me to keep Your Grace engaged when you are not in the best of health.”

Her voice bore genuine concern for his health, but Damian knew the truth. Aren simply sought an escape from this uncomfortable situation.

Aren turned around with a gentle smile, without any hesitation. A large jacket, twice the size of her small frame, rested on her shoulders.

And Cassadin followed behind her, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. He gently enclosed Aren’s petite hand in his large one.

Damian’s expression contorted sharply as he watched the two depart.

His mind was troubled.

The woman had initiated the interaction, and now she fled as if escaping from him.

Unknowingly, he extended his hand towards Aren, who was receding into the distance. But Damian instantly pulled back his arm.

‘Regardless of whether Cassadin is family or not, the fact remains that he’s someone I trust now.’

If Aren had been just as ordinary as the others who passed by in the streets, he wouldn’t have been so perturbed.

However, Aren was a woman sufficiently intelligent to memorize the entire Boundary of Good and Evil in detail. She would have grasped the true significance of the venomous butterfly analogy he used for Cassadin.

So how could such a knowledgeable woman be absolutely certain that she could trust a man who was hardly better than a beast?

‘Someone I could trust, you say?’

Damian pondered over the words Aren had spoken. Until his heart condition was completely healed, he had to treat Aren with kindness.

In that context, Cassadin posed the greatest challenge to Damian.

‘Then, I just need to ensure she loses her trust in Cassadin.’

Damian had innumerable people under his direct command.

His notable streak of victories in every single Swordsmanship Competition he had participated in, coupled with an inherent elegance that naturally emanated from him and his handsome looks, could not be ignored.

Though Damian was of mixed royal blood, he exuded nobility more than anyone else. As a result, people consistently sought him out, even when he showed no interest in attending banquets and other gatherings.

Moreover, Damian was highly skilled at manipulating those around him. He had transformed his supporters into puppets, ready to do anything for his sake.

But Aren was entirely different from anyone Damian had encountered before.

‘It’s because I healed Tuule’s tongue.’

It had been her who had pushed him into the slave, for her then to suddenly reveal her weakness and answer him boldly.

Her reasons for entering his residence, oblivious to the potential dangers, had been unbelievably absurd.

He initially believed she was there to ask for something from him, but the terms she proposed in exchange for her healing abilities almost rendered him speechless.

‘Let us forget about the past and reconcile.’

Her sole aim was to reconcile with him. That was the bargain she proposed in return for curing his heart condition.

Initially, he thought she had been deceiving him, but the healing capabilities that she demonstrated were genuine.

In the beginning, Damian was purely fixated on how to exploit her healing powers, but subsequently and imperceptibly, he developed a sincere interest in the individual named Aren.

She seemed to be within his grasp, but then escaped just before he could catch her. Like the sand in an hourglass that gradually sinks when flipped, like a mirage in the desert.

It was in human nature to desire things that they couldn’t obtain.

This applied even to Damian, who had once viewed others only as tools for manipulation.

Aren was no longer just a tool for Damian.

She was a human, just like him.

She appeared as a human.

I returned to my father after my conversation with Damian, with Cassadin following close behind. My father looked at us in confusion.

Cassadin released my hand and greeted my father.

“Sir, may I escort Aren to the carriage?”

My father blinked several times, surprised by Cassadin’s formal behavior, before responding.

“Ah, thank you, sir. However, I do not believe that will be possible.”

My father must have felt awkward speaking formally to Cassadin, as he continued to scratch his head. Conversely, Cassadin respectfully bowed his head to my father.

“I have been assigned to one of the fiefdoms in the capital. I will make sure to visit from time to time.”

“Considering your new role as a Marquess, you may become quite busy. It may be difficult for you to visit…”

As he heard my father’s voice trail off, Cassadin offered a warm smile and responded.

“It is my desire to do so.”

In the end, Father relented and nodded his head, after which Cassadin escorted both me and Father to our waiting carriage.

I was on the brink of giving Cassadin’s jacket back to him when he gently shook his head and spoke up.

“The weather has grown rather cold, so please keep it with you. You can return the jacket to me the next time we encounter each other.”

“Are you certain? Wait, are you really okay with this, Sir?”

Unable to decide whether to address the now Marquess Cassadin formally or informally, I ended up using both modes of speech. In response, Cassadin’s eyes crinkled into charming creases.

“I am fine. And please address me in whatever way Sister prefers.”

“It’s quite challenging to switch to formal language all of a sudden.”

“They’re both lovel–”

Realizing his slip-up, Cassadin glanced warily at Father, then coughed awkwardly as he stepped back.

“Then, I wish you a safe journey home.”

At last, the carriage that Father and I were in began to move. When I quickly glanced back, I noticed Cassadin waving goodbye to us. His lips were moving as he radiated calmness, seemingly trying to convey something to me.

But there was no sound, only the movement of his lips.

‘I?’

It was only after squinting and closely observing Cassadin’s lips that I deciphered the words he was attempting to communicate to me.

“I love you.”

Upon grasping its significance, a smile gradually crept across my face. It was as though my heart, which had been disturbed by my encounter with Damian, had instantly thawed.

The autumn landscape visible through the carriage window appeared particularly exquisite. The golden wheat fields basking in sunlight, and the children darting playfully around the streets, all came vividly into view.

Cassadin was no longer my family, but I still found myself capable of trusting him.

Perhaps my joy at the fact had caused me to lose sight of reality. I had naively assumed that nothing worse could possibly occur than encountering Damian.

Yet, unhappily, disaster tends to strike at the least expected moments.

As I descended from the carriage, I noticed an unknown woman standing in front of the mansion, seemingly awaiting someone’s arrival.

The woman’s light pink dress perfectly complemented her vermilion hair that cascaded down to her shoulders.

However, the problem was that her face was hidden behind her hair, making it impossible for me to identify her.

‘Why is she standing in front of our mansion?’

“Excuse me, who are you?”

Upon hearing my question, the woman shifted her gaze toward me.

As I caught sight of her face, my eyes widened in shock.

How could I possibly ever forget her?

While her hair was shorter than I remembered, I recognized her immediately.

She was Damian’s lover, Lilian, who had tormented me in my past life.

‘Lilian, why are you here?’

My elation rapidly plummeted.

Upon making eye contact with me, Lilian tucked her hair behind her ear.

As she did so, the turquoise earrings hidden behind her hair glinted in the sunshine.

Her attire, from head to toe, gave her the appearance of a noblewoman rather than a commoner.

Her skin was clear and pale, a striking contrast to her glowing ginger hair.

Moreover, she was adorned in an expensive pastel pink dress and turquoise earrings, items that could not be acquired at a low cost.

Had I not known Lilian was a commoner through the memories of my past life, I, too, would have mistaken her for a noblewoman.

As I continued to quietly observe her, her round, pink eyes narrowed into crescents.

“Hello.”

With a bright smile, Lilian greeted me. I didn’t return the greeting, rather, I looked at her skeptically.

‘Why is she here?’

I was the daughter of an Earl, and Lilian was a commoner. To me, Lilian was nothing more than an intruder.

However, if I revealed that I was aware of Lilian’s status, she would undoubtedly become suspicious of me.

I wasn’t certain of her reason for coming here, but I was positive it wasn’t for any good cause.

After all, she was the one who had tormented me with unfathomable schemes in my previous life.

Upon seeing Lilian, memories of my past life came rushing back.

‘What is this on your arm? Are you injured?’

When Damian noticed a fresh bandage wrapped around Lilian’s arm, he asked her in evident irritation.

‘This, it’s a burn from hot tea…’

‘Who did this to you?’

‘…It was…’

‘I’m asking you, who dared to harm you in my house?’

Lilian, on the verge of tears due to Damian’s intense questioning, glanced towards my room’s door.

The moment she turned her gaze towards me, Damian strode towards the door behind which I was hiding.

‘Did you torment Lilian again?’

I hadn’t done anything, yet I was blamed for the injury to Lilian’s arm.

“I didn’t do anything.”

I told Damian the truth, but he didn’t believe me.

“So, not only did you burn Lilian’s arm, but now you’re lying too?”

Instead of responding to Damian, I looked past him to where Lilian was standing.

Tears were welling up in her wide eyes, yet a smile was unmistakably drawn across her face.

“…It seems you would rather believe her than your own fiancée.”

I smiled, though the taste was bittersweet.

‘“You’re suggesting that Lilian invented a scenario that never occurred. So how would you explain the scar on her wrist?“

“…Have you actually seen it?”

“What?”

“Did you physically see a wound underneath the bandage she’s wearing?”

Upon hearing that, Damian raised his hand and struck me across the face. The sharp sound of his hand making contact with my cheek caused my head to jerk sideways.

I did not shed a tear but instead bit down hard on my lower lip.

That was likely the first time Damian had ever hit me.

Perhaps it was because of my past memories, but I could not view Lilian objectively.

Hadn’t she been the one to play the victim in the incidents she herself had caused?

Feigning ignorance of Lilian’s identity, I decided to probe her intentions.

“Judging by your appearance, you seem to be of noble birth. If it’s not too rude, may I ask what brings you here?”

Lilian’s face lit up at my question, her mood inexplicably brightening.

She didn’t correct me when I referred to her as a commoner.

Maintaining her smile, Lilian courteously lifted the hem of her dress in greeting.

“Actually, I’m looking for someone.”

‘Someone?’

Feeling a sense of oddity, I queried Lilian.

“Who might this ‘someone’ be that you’re referring to?”

“…I have heard the rumors about this year’s Founding Day festival winner. Apparently, he has become a Marquess?”

Lilian tilted her head to the side, her coral hair swinging with her movements.

When she bestowed another gentle smile, the passersby all blushed and repeatedly stole glances in our direction.

On the other hand, I could not bring myself to smile.

Because the reason Lilian had journeyed all this way here…

“I have come to meet Sir Cassadin.”

…was Cassadin.