IRMY Chapter 16

“It’s hard to believe, but yes. I don’t know when, where, or how he came here. He was simply always here at the mansion, so I never questioned the previous Duke about it.”

“Ah…”

“I can only assume he’s not an ordinary tiger. Normal tigers don’t live that long.”

It was obvious that Kisha wasn’t an ordinary tiger, but they hadn’t bothered to investigate. In a family plagued by a curse of early death, a long-lived tiger wasn’t particularly remarkable.

“I see. That’s why you call him the second master.”

“Indeed. Kisha has, in fact, protected the duchy longer than anyone.”

Yuro nodded, but a question arose. Even if they were preoccupied with their illness, wouldn’t they be curious about a creature living so long, right before their eyes?

If there was a chance to find a way to prolong their life through Kisha, wouldn’t they at least try to find out the reason? Unable to contain his curiosity, Yuro asked,

“Did your great-grandfather bring Kisha here knowing he would live so long?”

“I don’t think so. There’s no record of how Kisha was brought here, but he left instructions in his will on how to care for Kisha after his death. He even specified how Kisha’s funeral should be conducted in the future.”

“Perhaps he included that because even if Kisha lives a long time, he’s not immortal and will eventually die?”

“That’s possible, but if he had brought Kisha here focusing on his longevity, he would have mentioned it in the will. But all that’s written there are Kisha’s dietary preferences.”

That meant Melione’s great-grandfather hadn’t known Kisha would live this long.

“Moreover, the will is quite sentimental. Most of it expresses his concern for Kisha, who would be left alone after his death.”

“He must have cherished him dearly.”

“In a place where everything you cherish dies, an animal that stayed by his side until the end must have been quite precious to him.”

There hadn’t been a single marriage based on love in the Spioren Duchy. The condition for marriage was producing an heir, and the reward was always money.

Even those partners, before they could fall in love, would either succumb to the curse and die or go mad, and the children born through such unions would resent their parents.

So, the fate of those born with Spioren blood was always solitude.

“…That’s a sad story.”

Yuro, feeling a pang of sadness, put down his spoon and pressed his lips together. The first Duke had sinned, but did his descendants deserve to suffer so much?

A curse that killed even the spouses of the descendants, simply because of a broken promise, was too cruel.

The dragon might have been offended by being tricked by a human, a mere insect in its eyes, but that couldn’t justify taking human lives.

“Oh dear, perhaps this wasn’t an appropriate topic for lunchtime.”

“No, it’s my fault for asking… I’m worried you haven’t eaten much because of me.”

Melione shook his head, his expression neutral.

“I don’t enjoy meals anyway. It’s just one of the daily routines I maintain out of obligation.”

“You still need to eat well. Everyone prepared this food with your health in mind.”

The lunch spread was lavish, as if to say, “A table laden with food.”

It was excessive for just two people. The variety, the taste, and the sheer quantity reflected the effort put into preparing the meal.

“If you think so, then you should eat more, Your Highness. Everyone will be delighted to see someone enjoying the food for a change.”

“I’m already eating very well at every meal.”

Yuro smiled sheepishly. He was eating too well. Marrying Melione meant sharing his fate as a terminally ill person, yet he was eating as if he were completely oblivious.

He was doing this because he had a way to survive, but from an outsider’s perspective, he probably looked carefree.

That wasn’t entirely wrong. Being optimistic was one of his strengths. He was naturally simple-minded and didn’t dwell on the possibility of failure.

Even if his plan was likely to fail, he would continue to eat and sleep well. As the saying went, “Even a ghost looks better with a full stomach.”

If Yuro had been a worrier who feared failure, he wouldn’t have earned the nickname “Survival Permanent Failure Idol¹.”

Two debut survival shows and one failed idol reboot show. Kim Yuro had appeared on three survival programs.

Many people said he was wasting his image, hopping from one survival show to another without any proper promotions or album releases.

He would only be used for sensational preview clips and wouldn’t make it into the debut group anyway, so it would be better to sign with a decent agency and debut before it was too late.

However, Yuro had already experienced a debut that wasn’t a debut and had changed agencies multiple times. Some had promised to produce his solo album, and he had even made it into a debut group once, but everything fell through in the end.

All that was left were survival shows. Even if he couldn’t debut, he had to try. Trying everything was his motto.

It was the driving force that allowed him to keep his dream alive. And thanks to that persistence, he had landed the musical role.

…It was unfortunate that he died on stage, but he didn’t regret taking the role of Yuro Lechis. He had always said he wanted to die on stage.

“I feel so pampered since arriving in Ceylon. The food, the clothes… I’m worried I’m eating too much.”

“No matter how much you eat, it won’t even amount to half, no, a quarter of Kisha’s food expenses.”

“Does he eat that much?”

“Kisha has a large appetite, perhaps because of his size.”

“Then maybe he lives so long because he eats well.”

Yuro smiled brightly at Melione.

“So, I hope you’ll eat well at every meal, Your Grace. I want to live a long life with you.”

Having satisfied his hunger and curiosity, it was time to act like the harmless, innocent fool blinded by love.

The only time he could see Melione, who rarely left his room, was during these short lunch breaks, so he couldn’t waste a single moment.

This wasn’t a dating sim, but he still needed to steadily increase Melione’s affection level to unlock more encounter events. He had to develop their relationship to the point where they could not only have lunch together but also share a bed.

He didn’t expect Melione to reciprocate his feelings. Honestly, he didn’t even want that. He just needed to build enough rapport, even if it was just out of pity or sympathy, to share a bed.

He could plead for them to spend the first night together for the sake of tradition, but he couldn’t keep asking for the same reason every night.

He just needed Melione to tolerate his presence out of a sense of obligation or pity, rather than love. Of course, getting there wouldn’t be easy.

‘Even a marriage in name only is still a marriage…’

Yuro muttered inwardly, smiling brightly. Wasn’t a political marriage all about sharing a bed, even without love?

He was doing everything he could to achieve that, to make Melione see him as a harmless fool. That way, Melione would be more likely to tolerate him offering to sing lullabies.

Oblivious to the fact that sympathy could be more powerful than love, Yuro focused on his next plan for after lunch.

“If that’s true, then Your Highness will live a very long life.”

Melione said sarcastically, watching Yuro’s goofy grin. But Yuro, unfazed, simply laughed.

“Indeed. I will live a very long life, and you should join me, Your Grace.”

His forced smile strained his facial muscles, and his lips twitched. He felt like he was getting a cramp.

Inwardly, he thought, “You crazy bastard, eat more. You need the energy to keep breathing, even if you’re on your deathbed.”

Melione stared at Yuro with a strange expression, then slowly stood up.

“…I’ll excuse myself first. Please finish your meal.”

“Wait, Your Grace!”

Yuro hurriedly called out to Melione, who was about to leave without a word. He jumped up and grabbed Melione’s wrist.

Gasps echoed from the silently waiting servants.

Melione, his wrist suddenly grabbed, instinctively scowled. Fortunately, he was facing away from Yuro, so his expression was hidden.

He clenched and unclenched his fist, then turned to face Yuro with a calm expression, as if he hadn’t been frowning a moment ago. Yuro, startled, loosened his grip.

“I’m sorry! I have something to tell you.”

“…Go ahead.”

Melione’s voice was low, as if suppressing his anger, but Yuro simply said cheerfully,

“Could you give me a tour of the mansion?”