Ashdel's words were far too mature for a child his age.
But Callion paid little attention to that.
His silver-gray eyes merely observed his son as the boy staggered back to his feet.
His gaze swept over the unstable mana leaking from Ashdel’s body.
“Is breaking off the engagement really that difficult?”
“No.”
“Then what’s the problem?!”
His father had always been like this.
Ruthless.
Everything had to be done his way.
The marriage was no different.
He dismissed Milena’s refusal as if it meant nothing.
Because that was the kind of man he was.
Poor Auntie.
Fury blazed in the child’s eyes.
“Why do you keep tormenting her?! You said you'd marry just any woman!”
The moment his emotions exploded, his unstable mana surged violently with them.
Callion casually redirected the rampaging power with nothing more than a wooden practice sword.
“I told you.”
His voice remained cold.
“If you can properly challenge me and win, I’ll grant you one wish.”
It was an absurd condition.
Even using the same mana, the difference between them was overwhelming.
But Ashdel couldn’t give up.
His control was unstable, but—
If he could just master his mana.
If he could stand against his father.
Maybe he could save Milena.
For her freedom.
“AAAAAH!”
The boy charged forward with all his strength.
But Callion didn't even bother raising his sword to meet him.
A simple burst of raw power sent Ashdel flying backward.
Ashdel was exceptional for a child his age.
Far beyond his peers.
But—
The Grand Duke was still the Grand Duke.
Callion faced him without moving a single step.
Expressionless.
As though evaluating the worth of an heir.
As though appraising merchandise.
“Haah... haah...”
No matter how many times he challenged him—
The wall before him never budged.
The only thing that broke was his own small body.
“Giving up already?”
Callion’s eyes remained indifferent.
“At this rate, you won’t even be able to protect the Milena Lastia you cherish so much.”
Ashdel bit his lower lip until it bled.
He tightened his grip on the wooden sword.
But standing was all he could manage.
Helplessness consumed him.
His eyes burned.
Only babies cry over things like this.
At seven years old, Ashdel considered himself grown.
But his body was weak.
And his unstable mana only made everything worse.
“Stay in bed until the wedding is over.”
Callion’s voice was merciless.
“Don’t cause trouble. Act like an heir.”
Like an heir.
The weight of those words made Ashdel squeeze his eyes shut.
Until the wedding ended.
Meaning he would be confined to bed for days.
He knew what came next.
It wouldn’t kill him.
But it would bring him right to the edge.
A strike so powerful he wouldn't even be able to walk for weeks.
As Ashdel tensed his body to prepare for the incoming blow—
“Ashdel!”
Warm arms suddenly wrapped around him.
Someone yanked him backward.
And at the same time—
BOOM!
The wooden sword slammed into the wall with an explosive crash.
The wall shattered.
Startled by the collapsing stone, Ashdel slowly opened his eyes.
Ah.
The tears he had been desperately holding back rolled down his cheeks.
At the end of his gaze—
Was the back of a woman shielding him.
“Auntie...”
The back of an adult protecting a child.
Unlike the man who treated his son like a tool.
Without realizing it, Ashdel clutched Milena’s dress tightly.
The wooden sword that had been aimed at him had changed direction at the last second.
Instead, it grazed Milena’s cheek before embedding itself in the wall.
Several strands of severed blonde hair drifted to the floor.
A thin red cut appeared on her cheek.
“Auntie!”
Ashdel’s eyes widened when he saw the blood.
Shock instantly turned into rage.
Just as he tried to charge at Callion—
Milena grabbed him firmly.
She refused to let go.
Instead, she looked straight at the Grand Duke.
“Your Grace. This is not Ashdel’s sword training session.”
Her posture clearly shielded the child.
It was almost laughable.
Since when had she become so protective?
Was this another attempt to gain favor?
The corner of Callion’s mouth lifted slightly.
The wooden sword was still pointed toward her.
“Why?”
His voice dripped with mockery.
“Have you decided to stop playing nanny and start playing mother instead?”
“......”
She understood exactly what he meant.
The past.
The time she had willingly become Ashdel’s caretaker just to remain near Callion.
The sneer left a bitter taste in her mouth.
Playing mother?
Did he still think she wanted this marriage?
There was only one way to shake a man like Callion.
His weakness.
And she knew it better than anyone.
“I’m sure Lariette would love to hear that.”
The moment his wife’s name left another person’s lips—
Every trace of emotion vanished from Callion’s face.
Just like that.
Even beneath the crushing pressure radiating from him, Milena refused to back down.
“How sad do you think she'd be if she knew this was how you treated your only son?”
“It’s discipline.”
“Yes.”
Her emerald eyes flashed.
“Discipline wrapped in violence.”
The tension between them tightened.
Ashdel nervously tugged on her sleeve.
Milena glanced down.
His lips were tightly pressed together.
There were no obvious injuries.
But his sweat-soaked hair and ruined clothes told the entire story.
Anger flickered in her green eyes.
The man before her wasn't Ashdel’s father.
He was Duke Luxen.
A man who had never seen his son as a son.
Only as an heir.
Far too cruel a life for a seven-year-old child.
Growing up without love.
Perhaps that was why she saw herself in him.
Pitiful.
And—
She was furious at a man who couldn't even act like a parent.
“Your Grace.”
Her voice steadied.
“A duel with you is too much for someone his age. The training appears to be over, so...”
She left the sentence unfinished.
The meaning was obvious.
Let him go.
At last, Callion lowered his sword.
Then he looked down at her.
Now he'll tell us to get lost.
He was always looking down on others.
There were no exceptions.
And yet—
“Milena Lastia.”
He took a step closer.
The icy atmosphere around him softened strangely.
“You mustn't get hurt.”
His fingers brushed against the blood on her cheek.
“You're precious.”
His thumb slowly rubbed across the wound.
A chill ran down her spine.
A gesture that should have been gentle felt terrifying instead.
“You’ll heal.”
Milena blinked.
Heal?
What does that mean?
Before she could process it—
His next words stole her breath.
“The Young Master wants a replacement, doesn't he?”
Silver-gray eyes locked onto hers.
“I suppose I’ll have to create a second heir.”
With you.
He didn’t even bother hiding it.
The heat in his voice traveled through his fingertips.
It felt as though every drop of blood drained from her body.
Once upon a time, this was the man who would have made her blush.
But now—
Her face turned deathly pale.
There was no trace of the woman who had once obsessed over him.
Only fear remained.
Seeing that reaction, something dangerous darkened in Callion’s eyes.
“Why that expression?”
His voice wrapped around her like chains.
“I thought you'd be pleased.”
She froze.
Completely.
Callion lowered his gaze to the blood staining his fingers.
For a brief moment—
A crimson glint flashed through his silver eyes.
So quickly that no one noticed.
After a long silence,
He withdrew his hand.
“You may leave. I’ll overlook today's insolence.”
Only then did Milena realize she'd been holding her breath.
She exhaled shakily and grabbed Ashdel’s hand.
They needed to leave.
Immediately.
“Oh, and one more thing.”
Their steps stopped.
“Are the wedding preparations going well?”
The question was absurd.
She was barely allowed near his office.
The butler handled everything.
So why ask?
She had no desire to understand his intentions.
Escaping came first.
Milena glanced back over her shoulder.
“What is there to prepare?”
A cold smile curved her lips.
“Everything’s being recycled anyway.”
Just like her.
Just like taking a dead wife’s younger sister—
And forcing her back into the position of Duchess.