The reason that old couples could still get along was because they’d lived together during the years when they’d been flexible in their thinking. By navigating each other’s quirks, they were able to slowly adjust to each other’s values and styles.
In my opinion, in order to avoid a lonely life in one’s older years, it was absolutely necessary to marry someone with a good personality. There were probably people who wouldn’t agree, but at the very least, this was what I believed.
“Do you believe you won’t achieve happiness through marriage?” I asked.
“Happiness through...marriage? I’ve never considered it. With my appearance, I gave up on marriage long ago,” she said with a sad smile.
Seeing that made my chest tighten as if it were being squeezed. “Let me rephrase. What do you need to become happy?”
We’d just met each other today. I couldn’t pry any deeper. I was already crossing the line of what would be considered rude at our current stage of familiarity. But even though I knew that, an unknown emotion was gripping my heart, making it impossible for me to hold back.
“Achieving normal happiness will most likely be...difficult for me,” she said sadly, dropping her gaze to the table, her expression distorted as if she was trying to put up a strong front. “It can’t be helped. I believe this is just how my life is,” she said, smiling. It was a sad smile, as if someone had her heart in a vice.
Her words were the exact same as the ones I would whisper to myself in my past life. Oh, I see. She’s the same as I once was. It’s the same as when people wouldn’t even treat me as a human, just because I was ugly. This smile she wore wasn’t that of a duke’s daughter, but the same sad smile I used to wear in my previous life. I was familiar with this smile—as if you’d given up on everything. Suddenly, something overwhelmingly hot like magma began surging deep inside my chest.
“Don’t give up...” I said.
“Huh?”
“Please don’t give up! What does it matter if your face isn’t perfect?! Your skin is just a little different from others’! That’s it! Why would you give up on everything just because of that?! Don’t give up! Don’t give up on becoming happy! It’s okay for you to become happy! It’s okay for you to wish to be happy! Don’t laugh as if you’ve given up on everything! Your life’s just starting!” I couldn’t hold myself back anymore. I grabbed her by the shoulders, my eyes filled with tears, and passionately lectured her.
I’d had nothing but time to think about everything as I lived my later years by myself. Every day I’d lived in regret, thinking about how I could’ve done better at different points in my life and wondering if that would’ve changed how miserably I’d turned out.
She was like the young version of me that I would think about with such regret. I was essentially trying to encourage my younger self from my past life through her. I stopped speaking formally in the latter half of my diatribe because I suddenly began seeing myself sitting there. Though I realized that, I couldn’t stop my emotions from pouring out.
She didn’t yet know the pain of continual loneliness or how long that pain lasted for. She was at the same point in her life where she couldn’t know the pain of living out one’s later years alone. If I didn’t stop her now from walking down this difficult path without knowing what it led to, I’d definitely regret it.
To begin with, physical appearance didn’t matter at all to me. Beauty eventually faded and the time one spent without their beauty was much longer than with it. In the broad scope of things, beauty was fleeting, and something like that wasn’t what I was interested in.
When I’d been agonizing over my solitude in my past life, what I’d wanted was for someone to be by my side. Whoever that was didn’t need to be beautiful. I wanted someone kind. I wanted someone who was genuinely kind. If I could marry Lady Anastasia, I was certain I’d obtain that. I had no reason to turn down this marriage. If anything, I didn’t want to let this opportunity slip through my fingers.
However, the strongest feeling in my heart right now wasn’t one of calculated gain. From the bottom of my heart, I yearned to save her. I was well aware that it might’ve been presumptuous for a guy like me—someone who’d lived a century without ever having a girlfriend—to want to save a woman from loneliness, but even so, these conceited thoughts of mine weren’t a lie or fabrication, but my genuine feelings.
Driven forward by these powerful emotions, I knelt and kissed the back of her hand. “Please marry me. I promise I’ll make you happy, so please don’t give up on your own happiness.”
Her face became increasingly red. “I-I-I’m so pleased to hear these words, but...are you...?”
I could see in her eyes that she was faltering, and her voice was shaking with worry for me. Even so, she didn’t have to worry at all. There wasn’t a better match for me in the world than her. But more importantly, I couldn’t leave her alone.
“I want you. Please.” This haughty desire of mine bubbled up and came out as those words as I pleaded with her. I want to save her.
“Y-Yes...” she replied in a whisper reminiscent of someone with a high fever muttering deliriously.
“Thank you.”
Seeing my past self in her, I got caught up in the moment and hugged her. Oh, that’s right. In my past life, I wanted to be embraced by someone.
I heard someone loudly clearing their throat. When I looked in the direction of its origin, I saw that it had been the duke himself, but he wasn’t alone. His wife was there too, along with my parents, the servants, and even guards. The guards were ready to take me down at any given moment. Judging by the situation, it seemed that everyone had been watching everything unfold and then had jumped out in a panic when I’d begun yelling. It was an extremely unusual situation for voices to be raised in a discussion between nobles.
I quickly moved away from Lady Anastasia and sat back in my seat. Realizing that everyone had seen me hug her made Lady Anastasia turn as red as a rose and hide her face behind her hands. This isn’t good... Proper noble etiquette dictates that the only place you’re able to touch on a woman’s body is the palm of her hand, even if you’re engaged. And that’s only if she permits you to. Such acts like grabbing a woman’s shoulders and hugging her were considered shameless even with her permission. It was such a violation of manners to do this to a woman you’re meeting for the first time—and without even asking—that it wouldn’t be surprising if the entire household were punished. It certainly wasn’t something that the fourth son of a viscount would get away with doing to the daughter of a duke.
“I ask that you court her with modesty,” the duke said to me, anger in his eyes.
“Yes, sir! My deepest apologies!” I said before doing the ultimate bow of remorse. All I could do was apologize profusely.
“Oh, what’s the harm? I’m sure his passionate advances pleased Ana,” his wife said, trying to smooth things over.
Though it seemed that the duke was fuming, his wife didn’t seem to be upset at all.