Chapter 77
“The young lady must have been very frightened at her age, yet she endured so well. Truly admirable.”
“…It was the maid who volunteered to be quarantined with her who did the great deed.”
At the old lady’s words, Heiban thought of Roze. In a situation where she could have been infected, she had been the only one brave enough to step forward. Without her, would the child have been able to endure the illness? Heiban couldn’t be sure.
“She volunteered to be quarantined with the young lady? That loyalty is remarkable. The Grand Duke must reward her generously.”
“…Yes, indeed.”
A mere 500 setena was not enough. How could he put a price on someone saving his child’s life? Heiban had resolved to repay Roze’s kindness again and again whenever the chance arose. Though if she heard such thoughts, she would surely leap in protest.
“Hmmm… you’re looking at the clock again. Do you have another appointment?”
“Ah, no, it’s not that…”
Heiban, who had once more unconsciously checked the time, flushed awkwardly at the old lady’s words. With a mischievous look, she leaned toward him and teased,
“Could it be you’ve made a date with some fair maiden?”
“What? …Ha ha, no.”
Heiban laughed softly and shook his head. But the old lady narrowed her eyes and spoke again.
“You cannot fool me, Grand Duke. Especially not when it comes to matters of love—there is no one more versed in them than I. You know well the scandalous affair between the late King and myself.”
Heiban only managed a troubled smile in response. Truly, what could he say? The tale of his grandfather, the king, and the woman who had won glory on the battlefield and earned a title, was still spoken of even now.
“The look on your face now—it is exactly the same as His Majesty’s back then.”
“…Excuse me?”
Heiban froze and looked at her. The old lady smiled playfully and continued,
“In those days, His Majesty would never confess his love, but only lingered around me. The way you look now is just the same.”
“…!”
“With a face brimming with anticipation, he would suddenly appear and say, ‘Countess Develon, what are you doing? Countess Develon, shall we ride together? Countess Develon, I have documents to review, let’s go over them together. Countess Develon…’”
Her words trailed off, her face painted with nostalgia. Heiban watched the longing overtake the old woman’s expression, then shook his head.
“No, Madam. You misunderstand. I only…”
Heiban was not a silver-tongued man, but neither was he incapable of expressing himself. If he needed to, he could speak clearly and persuasively.
And yet, somehow, in this conversation, his words faltered. It wasn’t even a difficult conversation—he only needed to deny her misunderstanding.
“You say no? Then stop looking at the clock so much. Do you know how many times you’ve done so during our tea?”
“…Madam, that is…”
Heiban frowned, embarrassed. The old lady’s eyes sparkled with amusement at his rare flustered look.
“You, who usually look indifferent no matter what, are making such a face—how could I believe you? If only I had a mirror, I’d show you your expression right now.”
“What face could I possibly be making, for you to tease me so?”
Heiban rubbed his face with his hand.
“Like a child waiting eagerly for a gift.”
“…What?”
“It has been so long since I’ve seen it. The young Grand Duke once wore that very expression in the palace, when His Majesty gave you a horse for your birthday.”
“Ah… you mean Luke.”
At her words, Heiban recalled his beloved horse and gave a wry smile. Luke, his companion since childhood, had been his grandfather’s birthday gift.
He remembered it well—the first horse he ever owned. The thrill of waking up early to see him.
…But Luke was long gone, buried in memory.
“Those were good times. A lively, mischievous young Grand Duke, the gentle and wise King Rivias, and…”
And the man she had loved, alive and well.
Heiban realized the words she hadn’t spoken. He had glimpsed the longing deep in her gray eyes. Though she had never become his queen and had lived under the title of royal consort, she had loved only one man all her life—his grandfather, her king.
Perhaps that was why, when she faced Heiban, she sometimes acted as though she were looking at her grandson. Others rarely dared to address him casually, but she would tease him without hesitation.
And maybe, that was why he too sought her company from time to time.
“What kind of woman could it be, I wonder?”
Heiban had been caught in his tender thoughts, when the old lady suddenly asked with a sly gleam in her eye.
“Pardon? What do you mean?”
“The woman who has made you return to your old self. What sort of woman could make the Grand Duke so restless, checking the time again and again? I would dearly like to meet her and give her my praise.”
Heiban could neither deny her words nor accept them.
Was this what his grandfather had felt, looking upon Countess Develon?
‘Impossible.’
Heiban was unsettled by a feeling he himself had not yet recognized, one too vague to name.
‘…Am I, about Roze…?’
“I’ll make the medicine, but whether it will be effective or not…”
Roze shook her head, trying to drive away the healer’s pessimistic words and the pitying look he’d given her.
It was always the same, no matter whom she sought. Words of sympathy, pitying eyes—lamenting how someone so young could have fallen ill with such a disease.
‘By now, I should be used to it…’
She bit her lips, forcing a bitter smile. She had thought she’d accepted it, thought she had resigned herself to her fate. But the chill in her heart remained.
If someone, anyone, told her she could live just a little longer, she would have clung to that hope desperately…
But not even such a kind lie was granted her. Only the cold truth lay before her.
Day by day, her life dwindled. Day by day, she was expected to tremble in fear.
…As if medicine could save her.
Roze stared at the packet of medicine in her hand. She clenched and unclenched her fist around it.
She felt her pulse, beating strongly beneath her palm.
‘I’m alive. I’m still alive.’
And yet her life marched unstoppably toward its end.
‘What did I do so wrong?’
She wanted to blame someone. If some divine power had written her fate this way, she wanted to seize it and scream. But she knew better than anyone it was useless.
Better, then, to spend her remaining time with the people she loved.
Roze stopped in place, squeezing her eyes shut as fear gripped her, cold as ice in her chest.
This fear would never become familiar. Until the moment her heart stopped, she would face it, shuddering.
She thought of her child, and of Heiban. The more moments she gathered with them, the greater her fear grew. The more desperately she wanted to live, the larger her dread became.
No, she could never get used to it. She would fight not to.
‘I want to live. Just a little longer with the ones I love. I want to live…’
Roze drew in a deep breath. And just then, a voice called from behind.
“Roze.”
Her tightly shut eyes fluttered open. Her body recognized the voice before her mind did. She turned slowly. Heiban was walking toward her.
But why did his face look so conflicted?
“…?”
Had something gone wrong? Her expression clouded with worry for him.
Yet when he reached her, Heiban’s face was as calm as always, as though she had imagined it. Relieved, Roze let out a small sigh and then noticed something odd.
“The carriage…?”
There was none in sight. But Heiban replied casually,
“It’ll come later.”
“…What?”
Roze’s eyes widened at the unexpected words. Heiban shrugged lightly and continued in an easy tone,
“We came all this way—wouldn’t it be a waste to just finish business and go back? Especially since I gave up a week’s vacation just for this half-day out. And to return without even using it all…”
Roze heard him, but couldn’t grasp his meaning. What did any of this have to do with the missing carriage? Even if she wished to linger, what did that matter to him?
“Shall we go shopping together?”
