Chapter 77
Rick was left dumbfounded, but Dietrich hurriedly unwrapped the package.
“This is ginger tea. Come to think of it, I’ve heard ginger tea is good for colds.”
“There’s honey, too.”
“Probably because ginger tea has a strong flavor, they sent honey to mellow it out. Very thoughtful of them.”
“How did she know about my condition?”
At Dietrich’s question, Rick paused in thought, then exclaimed in realization.
“Perhaps Lord Leonard mentioned it?”
That made sense. Likely when he visited the orphanage to teach, he had spoken about Dietrich’s health.
Dietrich picked up an envelope buried at the bottom of the post and instructed Rick to brew some ginger tea.
While Rick went off to make the tea, Dietrich gazed at the envelope for a moment, then carefully broke the seal and drew out the letter.
[To the Honorable Duke Dietrich Kreyman,
I heard that you’ve been unwell, so I’m sending tea and honey in hopes it may help. Drink it, and you should feel a little better. And also…]
A smile tugged at Dietrich’s lips as he read the earnest handwriting.
He continued reading. The spacing between the lines was unusually wide, and the words were pressed so hard that the indentations showed on the back of the paper.
[If I have unintentionally done anything rude, I hope you will look upon it generously and please erase it from your mind completely.]
‘She must be referring to that time.’
When Leonard had returned from class and told him that Ciela was ill, Dietrich had been utterly shocked.
He had wanted to rush to her immediately, but circumstances made it impossible—an imperial messenger had arrived.
“His Majesty commands you to lead a subjugation force against the monsters during the upcoming Rishan Week.”
Seeing the crooked smile at the corner of the messenger’s lips, Dietrich felt as if he were facing the Emperor himself.
After the messenger left, Rick fumed, but Dietrich had no mental space to care.
“My lord, you know the Rishan Week is poison to you… Wait, my lord! Where are you going?”
“I’m stepping out for some fresh air.”
“At this late hour, what fresh air could you possibly—!”
Rick’s voice chased after him, but Dietrich didn’t look back.
He ran straight to the orphanage. All day, he had been too worried about her to concentrate on anything. The only thought in his mind was that he had to check her condition with his own eyes.
“Master’s orders were that no one is to enter this room.”
But Hoyen stood guard at the door, blocking his way.
“I only wish to check her condition for a moment.”
“She said no one may enter. Leave.”
“I’ve brought an incense that clears the mind. When she wakes, her head will surely ache. It would be best to light it.”
“I can light—”
“For beastfolk, incense is poison.”
“….”
At his words, Hoyen flinched. She had already once suffered from a paralyzing incense. Dietrich looked at her impassively.
“Don’t worry. I’ll only light it and come out. If she knew you suffered because of me, with her personality, she would surely be upset. You don’t want that either, do you?”
“….”
Hoyen’s brows furrowed. Reluctantly, she stepped aside.
“Only to light the incense, then out.”
“So it shall be.”
Nodding, Dietrich entered.
The room was dark, but he found her immediately.
Just as he told Hoyen, he lit the incense, then sat by her bedside.
“Haa… haa…”
Ciela was struggling even to breathe, her chest heaving.
Looking at her, Dietrich thought absentmindedly,
‘If only I could be sick in her place.’
Even if it were many times more painful, he would gladly endure it if it meant sparing her.
“Hot… it’s hot…”
She murmured faintly, her fever burning high.
Dietrich moved to fetch a cold towel but stopped.
Instead, he laid his hand gently on her forehead.
“My body temperature is lower than most people’s. This will be better.”
Though she couldn’t hear him, he muttered as if making an excuse.
“Mmm…”
The cool touch of his hand seemed to soothe her, and her lips curved faintly upward. Dietrich gazed at her quietly.
It was a strange feeling. To run frantically out of worry for someone, to wish to bear their pain in their stead.
Just seeing her face like this…
‘It brings me peace.’
What was this emotion? A feeling that made him afraid she might vanish from his sight, a feeling that made him want to keep her always before him.
‘I don’t understand it.’
But one thing was clear: she had become someone far too special to him.
More than merely “important” or “precious.”
‘If Ciela were to know, she might feel uncomfortable.’
Or rather—
‘If she learned my true nature, she would…’
How would she look at him then?
With disgust? With fear? Perhaps even pity. The thought alone made his heart seize.
He forced away the dark thoughts and checked her fever again.
“…It’s gone down quite a bit…”
Relieved that her fever had broken, he decided it was time to return.
Just as he began to rise—
“…Hoyen?”
He froze at the sound of her voice. Her half-lidded eyes were gazing at him.
Caught standing awkwardly, Dietrich sat back down beside her and spoke quietly.
“You’re awake.”
For some reason, he couldn’t meet her eyes, his gaze shifting slightly away.
“Your fever has lowered a lot. But don’t overexert yourself—get more rest.”
His voice came out colder than intended, tension tightening his throat.
Startled at his own tone, he looked back at her. At last, she recognized him and murmured.
“My lord…?”
“Yes.”
Her eyes widened briefly, then softened into peace as she closed them again. Dietrich silently watched her.
“…This is unusual.”
“What do you mean?”
She didn’t answer immediately, and he didn’t press her.
After a moment, she whispered,
“Because it’s you, my lord.”
Her murmur made him flinch. Was she disappointed it was him at her bedside?
After hesitation, he asked cautiously,
“…Are you disappointed that it’s me?”
Her reply was immediate.
“No. Rather, seeing your face makes me feel like I’m healing.”
Hearing that his face made her feel better—it was difficult to understand.
‘But… it must be a good thing.’
He decided so, because after saying it, her expression looked so serene.
Then, like a flood, an emotion washed over him.
‘I’m… happy.’
It was joy.
—“Why were you born a monster like that? Because of you, my life is ruined! Just disappear from my sight!”—
Never once since birth had anyone told him he made them happy.
Perhaps that was why her simple words struck him so deeply.
Afraid she might see his face contorted with emotion, Dietrich turned away.
Then suddenly—
“…Ciela?”
He started at the touch against the back of his head and turned.
“Your hair… is sticking up.”
Was it the fever? She seemed oddly different tonight.
As he stared, she smiled sheepishly.
“Ah, your face is red.”
He hadn’t realized his cheeks were flushed. How foolish must he look in her eyes now?
Yet he wanted to protest—
With a face like hers, and with her doing such things, it would be far stranger if he showed no reaction at all.
“My lord, you’re cuter than I expected.”
At her next words, he wished he could crawl into a hole.
But at the same time, seeing her smiling so freely eased his heart.
Ciela closed her eyes again, and he watched silently. Her lips moved faintly.
“May I… hold your hand?”
The sudden request froze him. Tonight, her behavior left him unsteady.
‘It must be the fever.’
It felt like he was being tested, afraid he might go too far.
When he didn’t respond, she asked with a pitiful look,
“…Do you not want to?”
He almost laughed bitterly.
‘Of course I want to.’
He had only hesitated, unsure if he was allowed to touch her.
But since she awaited his reply, Dietrich finally answered haltingly.
“I don’t… dislike it.”
Carefully, as though she might break, he took her hand.
Ciela let out a soft laugh.
“Your hand is so cool—it feels nice.”
“….”
She didn’t know it, but that night Dietrich felt grateful for the first time that his body ran colder than most.
