On that day, Dil Weissman, head of the Weissman Marquisate, was in an exceptionally foul mood. The reason, of course, was…
"Those filthy country rats!"
It was because of the letter from the Hartfield Earldom informing him that the engagement was cancelled. Unable to hide his frustration, Prime Minister Dil furiously threw the letter across the room.
But the letter, being just paper, didn't fly. Instead, it fluttered weakly and fell to the floor in a motion that only served to further irritate Dil. It felt almost as if the letter was mocking his shoulder which now hurt because of the powerful throw.
Grimacing, he clutched his shoulder and stomped on the letter on the floor as if to vent his frustration. Then he barked at a nearby servant, "Call Dario!"
The startled servant hurried out of the room, while Dil smoothed back his disheveled bangs with a sharp motion, attempting to calm himself. Sitting back in his office chair, he tried to regain his composure—but it was in vain. His irritation remained, and his fingers incessantly tapping against the desk.
Tap, tap, tap, tap… The rhythmic sound grew louder and louder until—
"Father, you called for me?"
A hesitant voice called out from beyond the door.
"Come in," Dil commanded curtly.
The door creaked open, and Dario, looking tense, stepped inside. Judging from his stiff expression, he hadn't yet heard about the letter from the Hartfield family.
As Dario cautiously entered the room, Dil, with his eyes bloodshot with anger, began to speak.
"Dario, I was told that things were going well with Lady Cecilia?"
"Yes," Dario replied without hesitation, though his tone was uncertain.
"Then explain this letter!"
Dil's shout made Dario flinch. He bent down and picked up the crumpled letter from the floor.
"It says here, from those 'country rats' of the Hartfield family, that they're annulling the engagement due to your bad behavior!" Dil's voice quivered with rage as he glared at his son.
Dario could do nothing but silently nod in response.
"I know you've been friendly with the Saintess, but if you're going to play with fire, make sure to discipline your woman."
The anger in Dil's words seemed misplaced, but it wasn't entirely surprising—after all, Dil himself kept mistresses in a separate residence from his wife. Like father, like son.
"Because you failed to assert your authority, this is the result—bitten by the very hand you tried to feed."
Snorting in disgust, Dil fixed his glare on Dario.
"You understand what I'm saying, don't you?"
"…Yes."
"Then go. Make that country bumpkin girl understand her place."
Dario bowed his head and left the room. As he walked away, Dil let out another disdainful snort.
"Honestly… these old-fashioned families are nothing but arrogant and troublesome."
Grumbling bitterly, Dil looked up at the ceiling and called out, "Is someone there?"
Without a sound, one of the ceiling panels shifted, and a figure dressed entirely in black descended into the room.
"Investigate the Hartfield family," Dil ordered.
"…Are you sure about this? Isn't unnecessary probing into territorial nobles prohibited by the Covenant?"
"It doesn't matter. They're suspected of smuggling meat to foreign countries. Otherwise, I can't imagine why they would reject the subsidies."
Dil snorted as he spoke, and the shadowy figure before him replied, "If that is the case, I understand" before vanishing from sight.
What Dil had dispatched was an agent of the Kingdom's shadow—a secret division responsible for intelligence, assassinations, and eliminating those who defied the central government. However, even such operatives couldn't easily infiltrate the territories of noble families.
Under the old Covenant, territorial nobles were granted a certain degree of autonomy. The only exception was when they were suspected to rebel against the Kingdom.
In the case of Cecilia's family, exporting meat—intended for the Kingdom—to foreign countries without royal authorization could be construed as treason.
While this required proper procedures before deploying such agents, Dil, convinced of their guilt, believed catching them red-handed would justify his actions. He had no idea that no such crime existed.
Dil's arrogance, however, was fueled by an obsession with the Hartfield family, rooted in their historical prestige.
While other noble families could claim noble lineage, they are still inferior to the Hartfield family's history since the Kingdom's founding.
This obsession, combined with the arrogance of believing in his own authority, drove Dil to take the final step.
"We must make them understand how foolish it is to oppose us."
Dil picked up his pen and began drafting a letter to the Hartfield family. Its content was overbearing, threatening to totally cut off their subsidies if they annulled the engagement. He also hinted that if they reversed their decision now, all grievances would be forgiven.
Although he had dispatched the shadow agents, Dil was confident the crime was nothing more than meat smuggling. To him, the letter was the ultimate intimidation tactic.
This is because there is almost no history of territorial nobles joinint forces without marriage, that's why he couldn't fathom the Hartfield family having any real allies.
He certainly didn't anticipate the Blauvelt family backing them, nor could he imagine the Hartfield family's making profit by creating beauty products instead of meat.
This preconceived notion is that because this kind of threat always worked wonderfully before, and this time was also no exception.
He clung to the assumption that his family's position was superior, and the Hartfield family would inevitably cave.
To Dil, this letter was a final ultimatum to the Hartfield family. What he failed to realize was just how foolish his actions truly were.
Unbeknownst to him, the Hartfield family was no longer swayed by such threats.
They had already secured a powerful alliance with the Blauvelt family, who were fully supporting Randy's proposal to produce beauty serums in a three-family collaboration. The Marquis Blauvelt had invested immense financial support, beyond any subsidies from the Kingdom.
Moreover, with the endorsement of Lady Flora herself, the genius Cedric, recognized even by Marquis Lucian, had joined the project. This demonstrated Lucian's confidence in the venture's profitability—a stamp of approval from a veteran businessman.
Threats involving money were now entirely meaningless.
And even worse, Dil had sent shadow agents to investigate a fabricated crime.
His timing was wrong.
His methods were wrong.
His target was wrong.
The outcome was as predictable as a flame consuming dry tinder.
What Dil should have done was simple: rebuke his son and sincerely apologize to the Hartfield family for his son's misconduct. Such humility could have preserved their relationship.
But Dil chose the arrogance way
Had he swallowed his pride and sought reconciliation, history might have unfolded differently. Instead, he belittled the Hartfield family, and this misstep caused the family to fully align themselves against the central government.
Now, two noble houses, which in official history had never formed an alliance, had joined forces through the unique influence of Randy. This unprecedented partnership would mark the beginning of a new era of opposition to the central Kingdom.
Moreover, it wasn't just business; their shared dissatisfaction with the government became another bond between them.
Dil would only realize the gravity of his mistakes when it was far too late to undo them.
———
The day after being told by his father, Dario summoned Cecilia.
"Lord Dario, I must ask you not to call upon me so casually now that the engagement has been cancelled." Cecilia said with a furrowed brow.
Dario, however, snorted and glared at her. Though he had previously been little reserved around Cecilia, his father, Dil, had ordered him to "make her understand." Those words spurred Dario's arrogance into action.
"I don't recall agreeing to that," he said.
Cecilia sighed, exasperated. It was ridiculous to think that the decision, which had escalated into a matter between families, could be overturned simply because one party refused to accept it.
(What a pity. So this is his true nature.)
Cecilia looked at Dario with disappointment.
Dario Weissman had been called a prodigy since childhood.
In both official game and this altered timeline, Dario had grown up as the eldest son of his father and legal wife, carrying immense expectations. His parents spoiled him, giving him anything he desired.
Dario admired his father deeply. Watching him command others with authority, Dario believed he, too, was destined to follow in those footsteps.
The result of this upbringing was the creation of Dario Weissman—a prideful monster.
His inflated pride caused him to look down on others and left him unable to connect with those around him. This was the Dario Weissman before meeting Catherine.
In the original game, it was Catherine who gradually melted Dario's pride.
This was especially evident in Dario's reverse harem route, where Catherine, unable to stand his strained relationships with his fiancée candidates, began meddling in his affairs.
Dario, wanting to win back the favor of his fiancée candidates, slowly started to change for the better, with Catherine's support.
Through Catherine's influence, Dario transformed from a man consumed by pride into a noble and thoughtful individual.
But in this timeline, that transformation never began. Instead, his festering pride had grown so distorted that it now controlled him entirely.
Perhaps the presence of the reincarnated Catherine and the other men flocking to her played a role in this divergence. In the original game, they would have been friendly rivals pushing each other to improve, but the exact cause of this shift remained unclear.
Regardless, the Dario Weissman who now stood before Cecilia was a completely different person from the one in the original. And even worse, this distortion seemed to grow worse with each passing day.
The Dario who had once inspired Cecilia to think, "If we're to be engaged, I'll support him however I can," was nowhere to be found.
"Attend tomorrow's party with me, and you'll see how worthy I am of you," Dario said, arms crossed in an attempt to appear confident, though his tone betrayed his desperation.
Cecilia sighed deeply once again.
"My apologies, but I'll be spending my afternoon off with friends," she replied coolly.
With that, she gave a graceful curtsy, turned her back on Dario, and began to leave.
"Wait."
Dario's voice stopped her in her tracks. Sighing, Cecilia turned back with a composed expression.
"What is it?"
"You should be grateful I'm asking. I'm offering you the chance to be my partner," Dario said arrogantly.
Cecilia couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of his words.
"My apologies, but I find nothing about you that interest me," she said with a faint smirk, clearly mocking him.
For the first time, Dario's expression faltered, his face twisting in irritation.
"You'll regret this," he growled.
His intimidating tone didn't faze Cecilia in the slightest. Unbothered, she looked at him with calm indifference.
This only served to further irk Dario, who glared at her with even more intensity.
"Sooner or later, your family won't be able to stand on its own and will have no choice but to bow to mine. When that time comes, you'll regret your attitude today."
"I hope such a day comes," Cecilia said with a faint, mocking smile.
She turned her back to him once more and walked away. After a few steps, something occurred to her, and she stopped, glancing back over her shoulder.
"Oh, one more thing—why not bring Lady Catherine to the party? I think you'd make a lovely pair," she said, her tone dripping with sarcasm.
With that, Cecilia turned away, leaving nothing else to say.
"…That was my plan from the start," Dario muttered under his breath.
Was she being stubborn or stupid? Clenching his fists, he glared in the direction Cecilia had gone.
Meanwhile, that afternoon, Catherine, whom Dario had invited to the party, was…
(Huh? Things went according to the plan)
…secretly delighted that, despite the altered timeline, the replacement for Cecilia's role in the Dario event had begun.