Fortunately, Lochi had already swallowed what was in her mouth; otherwise, she might have choked to death.
Marriage?
Marry?
Viscount Morton glanced at his daughter’s slightly confused expression, then resumed cutting his steak with his knife and fork.
“Of course, it doesn’t have to be an earl. If there’s any noble in the Kingdom of Soth that catches your interest, you can suggest it.”
“It’s best to avoid the Royal Family.”
“The implications are too great.”
A political marriage?
Lochi just imagined, even for a moment, waking up one day not to the morning light but to a gentleman’s face—she shivered.
Her inner resistance climbed to its peak in that instant, and she blurted out, “I don’t want to get married yet.”
Viscount Morton merely glanced at her without insisting, casually saying, “Just think about it. If you don’t want to, then forget it.”
That simple?
Lochi was a little surprised.
Apparently, it wasn’t the political marriage she had imagined—just parents and elders casually asking their children or younger relatives of marriageable age at the dinner table.
Whether from her memories of Viscount Morton or from these recent brief conversations, he didn’t seem like someone who paid much attention to his children’s matchmaking or love life.
So why bring it up suddenly?
However, now that the topic had shifted to her personal life, the opportunity was rare.
Why not…
“Father, Mother, I am still immature.”
“I don’t currently have any intention to encounter a romance or develop a private, intimate relationship with any gentleman.”
Wendy, her personal maid, recalled how her mistress had actively dismissed her and the bodyguard earlier that morning, and she began to watch carefully.
“I want to work instead, to improve my abilities and experience.”
Mrs. Morton nodded, looking at Lochi with considerable approval.
“That’s a good choice.”
“Before I married your father, I also worked.”
“That was a precious chapter of my life.”
Dean Morton, who had already officially started working, joined the discussion and asked, “Lochi, what kind of job do you want?”
“If you want something light, you could consider government-related departments.”
After the kingdom’s reforms, some noble powers were decentralized.
Parliament members, bankers, merchants—those controlling vast social resources—had growing influence.
Therefore, most nobles often held another identity, such as Parliament Member Ted Morton or wealthy businessman Newman Carter.
Their children usually chose commerce or politics once they reached adulthood.
Viscount Morton considered this and said calmly, “Dean, find time tomorrow to take your sister around and see if there are any positions she’s interested in.”
“No need to trouble my brother.”
Lochi politely refused, then added, “I already have plans.”
“I want to work in the…”
“Church.”
Ted Morton’s face finally showed a clear reaction; he furrowed his brows and raised a hand.
“You all may leave now. Close the door.”
“Yes, Viscount.”
After the male and female servants nearby left, Ted wiped his mouth with a napkin, his sharp, eagle-like eyes fixed on Lochi as he spoke solemnly:
“The Church?”
“You want to join the Church and do clerical work?”
With no outsiders around, the family members knew the backstory behind her situation.
Lochi spoke directly:
“Not clerical work.”
“I want to do the same work as Miss Yvette Lam.”
Viscount Morton’s brow furrowed even deeper, creasing into a ‘川’ shape as he scolded quietly,
“Nonsense!”
As expected, just as anticipated.
Lochi had prepared in advance and now presented her rehearsed explanation.
She bit her lower lip lightly, tilted her head slightly to one side, lowered her eyelids, and her misty blue eyes shimmered with watery light.
Her sweet and soft voice trembled slightly as the unspoken grievances welled up from her chest.
“Father, Mother…”
“Though I have escaped now, whenever I close my eyes,”
“I feel as if I’m back in that ancient castle.”
“In that pitch-black space, flashes of bright red occasionally appear, and in that fleeting moment, I glimpse a pair of eyes staring at me.”
“No, those aren’t eyes. They are bottomless pits that keep watching me, as if trying to suck out my soul.”
“I can’t sleep well at all, and I’m afraid of meeting others’ gazes.”
Half true, half false—her dreams were real, made worse after reading the diary last night; the lack of sleep wasn’t exactly true because after the nightmare, Miss Lochi simply turned over and went back to sleep hugging Miko.
“My poor child.”
Norma Morton’s maternal instincts surged; she rose and walked over to Lochi, cupping one hand over her ear and gently pressing her head so her cheek rested against her own.
“Don’t be afraid. The God of Fate, the Great Lord of All Spirits, will protect you.”
“Those terrifying memories will drift far away and no longer bind you.”
“Of course, my daughter.”
“I will always be by your side.”
‘Morton,’ you have sacrificed your life, your status, your family—what exactly do you want?
Within this warmth, Lochi’s thoughts were complicated.
“Big Sister, hug.”
Though Miss Lilia didn’t understand much, hearing her sister’s tone of grievance and recalling what her mother and sister did to her on rainy days when thunder rumbled outside, she wriggled down from her chair, ran over to Lochi, and pressed herself against her.
Viscount Morton’s expression softened but he said nothing.
Dean looked at his sister with worry. “Lochi, this is a psychological issue.”
“You need a doctor’s guidance and treatment.”
“No, Brother, I’m not sick. I’m just scared.”
“Lacking a sense of security.”
Ted finally spoke in a low voice:
“You don’t have to be afraid. May Asina is a very reliable bodyguard.”
“No nightmare can take you away from us, my daughter.”
Hearing this heavy, oath-like tone, Lochi finally saw the deep regret hidden beneath this stern middle-aged man’s face.
He hadn’t yet escaped the shadow of Lochi’s disappearance and regretted not protecting his family, especially now that her ‘wounds’ stabbed him once more, tearing apart his seemingly cold mask to reveal a raw, unhealed wound called guilt.
Using lies to gain true hearts—that was the most agonizing.
Lips trembling, Lochi finally whispered after a long pause:
“I still want to be able to protect myself.”
“…And protect you all.”
Viscount Morton was silent for a while before speaking, “That’s a far more dangerous path.”
“Are you sure you’ve thought it through?”
“Yes, Father.”
After receiving his daughter’s answer, the father fell silent.
“Then it’s up to you.”
Ted Morton said this, stood up from his seat, took out a cigar box, and walked straight toward the balcony.
Lochi stared at his departing figure, momentarily dazed.
Since entering this manor, always thinking about how to play her part well—as ‘Lochi Morton’—
At this moment, she finally felt a little like she belonged in this family.