*During the engagement for hire: stay close to the Duke, minimize risks, earn money.*
Marin repeated the terms to herself like a mantra.
"Kay."
At Gerald's call, a figure materialized from nowhere—a man clad entirely in black, only his eyes visible.
Marin's breath caught. She stared at him, wide-eyed.
*Kay.*
One of the novel's minor characters. She had known he existed, of course—but she hadn't expected to meet him like this, summoned directly in front of her.
"Assign El's shadow to the Temporary."
"Yes."
Kay's answer was barely audible. He turned toward Marin.
She knew what he was—the Duke's shadow, sworn to protect him at all times. The Duke was powerful enough that he seemed to need no protection, yet it was said that the shadows of House Vines had guarded the direct bloodline for generations.
"My name is Kay." His voice was low, precise. "From this moment, if you call for 'El,' El's shadow will appear at any time."
"Understood."
Marin bowed politely.
When she raised her head, Kay was gone.
She blinked and looked around in confusion.
*Where is he hiding? He must be nearby...*
While she continued to turn her head from side to side, the Duke spoke—dry, faintly impatient:
"Stop fidgeting. Is there anything else you wish to say?"
Marin narrowed her eyes and regarded him with suspicion.
*Does he truly not see?*
She believed it because she knew he was the male protagonist. But if the Duke continued to hit his mark as though he could perceive everything perfectly, others would never believe he was blind.
"Then—when will we sign the contract?"
"Decisive." The corners of his lips lifted with obvious satisfaction. "If you're going to do something, do it properly."
"We'll prepare for tomorrow." He paused. "Temporary... no. *Bride.*"
Marin flushed crimson.
She stared at the Duke with wide, startled eyes.
*What did he just call me?*
*Bride?*
The word felt foreign. Awkward. Strange on her ears.
Even knowing this was merely a job, she felt heat rise to her face.
As a ruined noblewoman who had never made her debut in society, Marin had long believed that marriage and engagement were not written in her future.
And yet—even if this was only a hired arrangement—she now carried the title of *bride.*
Her heart gave a strange, aching flutter. Flustered, she answered belatedly:
"...Yes."
"From the moment you sign the contract, you will need to pretend to be in love." His tone was matter-of-fact. A warning, not a request.
"Yes. I'll do my best."
"I'm counting on you."
Marin's eyes widened.
*Counting on me?*
She had assumed this was simply punishment for deceiving the Duke. Retribution dressed in silk.
But those words—*I'm counting on you*—they sounded like a request.
Something in her chest shifted.
Perhaps she could put a little more sincerity into this engagement after all.
"Yes." She met his sightless gaze. "And I'm counting on you, too."
---
With her shoulders slumped, Marin returned to the outbuilding and tried to order her tangled thoughts.
*The plot has changed.*
She wasn't in the original novel. From the beginning, she had tried her hardest not to disrupt the romance—to remain invisible, inconsequential.
Even after learning of the Duke's terrible suffering, she hadn't dared reveal the ingredients of the medicine that could heal his eyes. All she had allowed herself was to make a poultice and apply it gently to his eyelids.
She had been *so* careful.
And yet this completely unexpected situation had still arisen.
"Ha-ha... can I really leave things like this?"
The words slipped out before she could stop them. Marin clapped a hand over her mouth, suddenly frightened.
*From now on, I need to be careful even when talking to myself.*
Who knew where the shadow might be listening?
She glanced over her shoulder and whispered:
"El?"
"Yes."
*There—you see?* Immediate response.
Marin looked awkwardly at the figure who had appeared. El was slightly more slender than Kay, also dressed entirely in black—except for a pair of dark blue eyes that gleamed faintly in the dim light.
"Will you always follow me now?"
"Yes. From this moment, I am Miss Marin's shadow." The voice was soft, unhurried—slightly higher and clearer than Kay's. *A woman's voice?* "No one speaks formally to their own shadow. Please address me casually."
"Alright, El." Marin hesitated. "If I go to wash up..."
"Please don't worry. I will handle everything as it should be."
*"Handle everything as it should be"—that means she'll hide properly... right?*
Marin didn't dare ask further. Instead, she loaded as much meaning as possible into her next words:
"Be *sure* to do everything properly."
"Yes."
El inclined her head—and vanished.
No matter how hard Marin looked, she couldn't tell where the shadow had gone.
Shrugging her shoulders, she entered the outbuilding.
---
When she reached Roenna's door, Marin paused and sighed heavily.
*Now it's Mother's turn.*
Another lie to tell.
*Since when did my life become one long deception?*
She knocked.
"Yes?"
Roenna's voice answered immediately.
Marin opened the door and stepped inside, her smile bright and practiced.
"Mama, I'm back."
"You're early today."
Roenna greeted her with a gentle, warm expression.
Marin stood for a moment, studying her mother's face. The features that had grown gaunt with illness had regained some color. She looked more like her former self again.
Since they had moved to the Duke's castle, they had been eating properly. Yulia administered medicine on schedule. The improvement was undeniable.
Looking at her mother now, Marin felt certain she had made the right choice.
*Whatever lies I must tell—this is worth it.*
She took a breath.
"Mama... I'm getting engaged to His Grace."
"M-Marin..."
Roenna, sitting on the bed, pressed both hands to her mouth in horror.
"Mama, are you alright?"
Marin rushed to her side.
"What are you *saying?*" Roenna's voice trembled. "An engagement with His Grace?"
Her green eyes—the same shade as Marin's own—flickered with shock.
Marin sat beside her and clasped her mother's cold hands tightly.
"Were you very surprised?"
Roenna nodded slowly, her eyes still wide.
"Oh my God. Oh my God. *Oh my God.*"
She seemed incapable of uttering anything else.
"I didn't expect it to turn out this way either."
Marin looked her mother in the eyes and shared her feelings—honestly, as far as honesty would allow.
"Does he... know about our situation?" Roenna asked, her voice small and fearful.
Marin reached for the glass of water on the nightstand and pressed it into her mother's hands.
"Mama, drink first."
"O-okay."
Marin watched as Roenna took small, trembling sips, trying to calm herself.
*The closer to the truth, the easier the lie will be.*
She drew a deep breath and braced herself.
"Mama—first of all, yes: His Grace knows our true identity. It seems he's known for quite some time."
The glass trembled in Roenna's hands. Fear filled her green eyes.
"And yet, even knowing... he simply watched me." Marin kept her voice steady. "I lied, yes. But am I someone with malicious intent?"
That much was true.
In both her lives—past and present—no one had ever called her a bad person.
"Of course not." Roenna's voice softened immediately. "You couldn't find a kinder child."
As though nothing else mattered, she agreed without hesitation.
Marin waited until her mother had calmed a little more, then continued:
"I read reports to him well. I worked diligently as His Grace's assistant."
Also true. She could say it with confidence.
"Of course, of course." Roenna stroked her daughter's hand with tender affection, as though pitying her for all the hardship she had endured. "You've always been so diligent."
"He watched quietly..." Marin lowered her gaze. "...and it seems he fell in love with me."
*Lie.*
She lifted one hand to cover her face, as though embarrassed.
It was easier to hide her expression entirely than risk her mother seeing through the falsehood.