A Contract Marriage with My Child’s Father

I was reborn into a parenting novel — as a nameless extra.

Or so I thought, until I found myself raising the original heroine: my own four-year-old daughter, Melody, a Saintess candidate the Temple would stop at nothing to take.

To keep her hidden, I lived quietly as a village pharmacist in the south, playing the part of an unwed mother some man had walked out on.

And then I was hired to treat the nephew of Duke Cain Asheln — the Dragon Duke, the most eligible bachelor in the empire, and the man who is supposed to be the story’s father figure.

Silver hair. Red eyes. A face that never gives anything away.

“Let’s marry.”

“Pardon?”

“Didn’t you say so yourself? That you wanted a contract marriage.”

I did need a marriage — to protect Melody, and my own life along with hers.

But I never meant to ask him.

A contract marriage ends in divorce. That was the deal I’d made with myself.

So why does this man keep looking at my daughter as if she were already his?