The Villain's Terminally Ill Wife

Prologue

"Miss, it's time for breakfast."

By the time Julia finished dressing my hair up, another maid approached and informed me it was time to go for breakfast.

I got up from my vanity chair and slowly started moving to the dining hall. When I arrived, there were already familiar people sitting at the table.

"You're late."

My father said in a grumpy voice.

I gave a brief curtsy to Father before I went to my seat.

"Father, you should have scolded her. How rude of her to keep Father waiting." In a high-pitched tone, Cecilia complained to their father.

When I turned and looked at Cecilia, she smirked and jeered at me.

"If you keep that up, you'll remain the embarrassment of the family even after you get married."

When I tried to ignore her and sit down, Cecilia said something that upset me.

It wasn't a day or two that Cecilia sarcastically pointed out my behavior, but today, one word Cecilia spouted was particularly annoying.

"Married?"

"Enough. Sit down."

When I tried to ask back in disbelief, my father urged me to sit down without hiding any signs of irritation on his face.

I had no choice but to concede. As soon as I took my seat, the servants ushered in the meals as if they're waiting just for me to take a seat.

"Diana, I will proceed with the marriage of you and Earl of Theodore."

Even though it was a marriage with my life depended on it, my father made a one-sided decision.

"......."

Instead of answering, I looked up at my father.

Even when my mother was alive, he had been so kind, which I doubt he'll ever be again. But now Father was worse than everyone else after my mother died and he succeeded as the Duke.

"You're not going to live for long anyway, so I'd rather you go than spending your remaining days here."

"... Does that mean they originally asked for Cecilia?"

"......."

My father had no answer.

If he speaks up and says no, I wouldn't have been feeling so disappointed right now.

I already knew the fact that I'm supposed to get married. Still, couldn't you at least say the words that will console me?

Even if I'm not your own daughter, how could you sell me off so easily?

Many thoughts disturbed my mind.

I've been foolishly holding on to some remnants of imaginary affection and lingering regret. But now I had to admit it.

Father doesn't love me.

On top of that, he was trying to sell me off at a high price without telling the other party of my illness.

"Father."

"I won't listen to your complaints."

My father sternly said with a frown, assuming I was trying to complain.

He needed not to be upset since I wouldn't raise any protest because I already resigned myself to be sent off to Earl Theodore.

Should I say that I'm glad you're given me away, or I'm glad of this misfortune since it could've been much worse?