Chapter 61
Startled by the sudden question directed at him, the royal physician blinked a few times before nodding.
“Of course, that’s true. In this situation, it’s best to minimize the risk of infection as much as possible…”
“And I am the princess’s personal maid, Your Highness. If not me, who else would go in? Wouldn’t the princess feel more at ease if I accompany her?”
“……”
Hayven couldn’t deny or refute Roze’s words. She was not wrong. Above all, since Flita relied on Roze and trusted her completely, having Roze accompany her would surely help calm the child.
But…
He looked at Roze again. Her pale face caught his eye. She had always been weak. If someone like her went in with the child and caught the infection… Of course, the symptoms might be milder since it wasn’t a young child.
‘And one of her arms is in that condition, too.’
Hayven ran a hand irritably through his hair as he looked at Roze’s arm in a splint. He thought it was madness that she worried about someone else while his daughter was sick.
‘Right. For now, just think about the child. I must be a selfish father.’
He muttered this to himself several times before nodding and giving his permission.
“Very well… We will isolate Flita in the annex. The only ones allowed in the annex will be Flita and Roze, and aside from them, only the physician may enter once a day to check on her condition.”
His voice came out strained. Hayven ran a hand through his hair again and looked at Roze. Her gaze was earnest but not fearful. Entranced by her eyes, he continued:
“The duration… will be until the child is fully cured. Have someone clean the annex immediately, and once it’s ready, we’ll enter.”
“Yes, Your Highness. Thank you.”
Roze bowed to him. She didn’t shed tears. Now was the time to be strong, for the sake of the child.
“Is it reasonable to isolate her until she’s fully cured? They said treatment is almost impossible. What if we only get a corpse out later… Ugh.”
The maids whispered among themselves, then fell silent when they noticed Roze. They exchanged uneasy glances at the sight of her covering her nose and mouth with a large handkerchief.
Roze paused and looked at them. Perhaps uncomfortable under her gaze—or maybe uneasy simply because she was there—they all quietly drifted away without a word.
Roze pressed her lips together. She didn’t mind being treated like a contagion. But hearing people gossip about the child while she was away was unbearable.
Talking about the possibility of the child dying…
She bit her lip. No one believed the child would recover. Even the nanny had quickly taken leave, fearing she would be asked to enter the annex. And yet Roze had already decided she would go in with Flita.
‘…I will come back, together with the child.’
Roze resolved firmly and continued toward Flita’s room, bracing herself for the whispers and glances she would encounter along the way.
She didn’t want to waste time arguing. She preferred to reach her child as quickly as possible and stay by her side.
Knock, knock.
Before entering Flita’s bedroom, Roze knocked. She opened the door cautiously and stepped in, immediately hit by the strong scent of medicine. Normally, the child’s unique sweet and nutty smell would greet her… but now it was gone.
A figure inside the room approached.
“Are you ready?”
It was Hayven, wearing a similar covering over his mouth and nose. He glanced at the bag Roze had brought and asked:
“Yes, Your Highness. All prepared.”
She had packed a change of clothes, necessary items, and medication. If she fell ill herself while caring for Flita, it could be disastrous.
“…Roze.”
Flita, sitting on the bed, called to her, her voice trembling slightly. She must have felt better after taking her medicine. Even if not, she would need to get up to go to the annex anyway.
“I-I’m scared.”
Flita began to whimper the moment she saw Roze. Despite hiding half her face behind a handkerchief, it was clear she was holding back tears.
Roze set down the bag and quickly moved to sit beside her. Flita hesitated briefly before tucking both hands behind her back and frowning.
“No. Don’t come near me.”
“It’s okay, Princess. We’re going to the annex together.”
“But… even so… if you get too close, you’ll catch it from me. That’s why I’m covering my face.”
Flita had assumed her illness was just a cold. For a five-year-old, Dunfer’s disease was foreign and frightening. Being sick meant having a cold—that was all she understood.
Roze extended her uninjured arm, gently lifting the now smaller, weaker child into her embrace. She felt a pang of pity.
It was bad enough that the child was sick, but seeing her worry that someone else might catch her “cold” was even more heartbreaking.
“I won’t catch a cold, Princess.”
“How can I… believe that?”
Flita coughed occasionally, even as her symptoms improved. Roze held her close and smiled.
“Well… Your Highness knows. That’s why you chose me to accompany the princess to the annex.”
“Really?”
Flita blinked and looked at Hayven, who leaned against a wall. Seeing her round eyes, he nodded.
“Yes… Roze won’t catch a cold, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“Wow… that’s a relief.”
Flita trusted her father’s words and, visibly more relaxed, hugged Roze tightly. Though her fever had subsided, a mild warmth remained.
“I-I was worried I’d give you my cold. And that you might hate me.”
Now reassured, Flita revealed the anxiety she had been holding in. Her trembling handkerchief reflected the thin, anxious fear escaping her. Roze gently patted her.
The thought of going to the annex had frightened Flita greatly. It wasn’t just being sick, but also the prospect of being separated from everyone. The need to cover her face added to the unfamiliarity and anxiety.
“Why would I hate you? You’re so lovely and dear.”
“…What if I make you sick?”
“Even if that happened, I would never hate you.”
Roze looked Flita in the eyes. Tears welled up in the child’s round eyes and rolled down. She wiped them with her hands and nodded.
“I’ll make sure you get better, Princess.”
“Can I… really get better? I saw the physician shake his head.”
The child understood little, yet noticed much, especially in the reactions of those around her.
“Flita.”
Hayven straightened from the wall and approached her. Flita, still in Roze’s arms, turned to him.
“You’ll get better.”
“….”
“You’ll recover and come back, holding Roze’s hand, together.”
Flita blinked, slowly scanning the room, then steeled herself. Watching the child make her quiet resolution, Hayven spoke to Roze:
“Then we’ll go now.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
As Roze rose to hold Flita’s hand, Hayven scooped her up first.
“Ah! Papa! If you hold me…”
“I won’t catch a cold either.”
Firmly, Hayven reassured her. Flita hesitated before wrapping her arms around his neck. Roze watched briefly, then picked up her bag. Hayven glanced back and offered his hand.
“Shall I carry it?”
“Oh, no, Your Highness! I can manage.”
Roze was startled. Asking the Duke to carry her bag was unthinkable. Hayven, however, furrowed his brows while holding Flita and spoke again:
“Your arm…”
“It’s fine. This arm’s okay.”
Roze, wary of having the bag taken, held it behind her. Hayven chuckled lightly and withdrew his hand.
The three of them left the room.
Hayven carried Flita, and Roze followed with the bag. The hallways were empty. Even descending the stairs and crossing the first-floor hall, they took precautions to minimize the chance of infecting others.
But in the quiet, Flita grew fearful again and sniffled. Roze spoke gently:
“There’s nothing to be afraid of, Princess. Let’s think of it as just a little outing for the two of us.”
“…An outing?”
