The Crow That’s After Me
Chapter 07 –
Elena stepped out into the small garden connected to her room and stretched her right foot out to step on the snow. The soft crunch and the way her foot sank deeper than expected made her lose balance for a moment, and the Grand Duke Varcian caught her from behind. Feeling awkward, Elena quickly pulled away from his grasp.
“I’ve never stepped on snow before. It feels lighter than I thought.”
“For now, yes. But once it piles up, it can be heavy enough to collapse a roof.”
Elena found that hard to believe. The snowflakes melted the instant they touched her skin—how could something so delicate be heavy enough to crush a roof? She wanted to touch the snow on the ground, but she was too conscious of his watchful gaze.
Instead, she stepped forward, leaving a neat footprint on the untouched white surface. The bright, sparkling snow felt like walking on a sheet of sugar.
Feeling playful, Elena lightly kicked some snow toward the Grand Duke. He gave a small, amused smile.
“You’re acting like a child.”
“But it’s fascinating!”
“Spend just one winter here, and you’ll shiver at the very sight of snow.”
Hmph. She hadn’t expected any kind of romantic line from him anyway. Elena started walking again, but he called out to her.
“Your hands must be freezing. Watch what I do.”
He knelt down and began to gather the snow, packing it tightly into a round ball. Elena’s eyes sparkled with curiosity.
“I haven’t done this since I was a boy. If you roll it on the ground, it grows larger. Would you like to see?”
“Can I try it myself?”
“Go ahead.”
He offered her his snowball with a smile, but Elena declined and made one herself. Her hands turned red from the cold, but just as he said, the ball grew as she rolled it across the ground.
Though… the shape looked a little odd—more like a snake’s egg than a perfect ball. Was that normal?
“You have to pack it evenly.”
As she looked at it in confusion, Theodore came over and helped roll it with her. Together, they made it perfectly round like a marble. Elena looked at the smooth snowball with pride.
“Let’s go inside. It’s a shame you can’t see how red your cheeks are.”
“Alright.”
Theodore held out his arm to her. Elena didn’t refuse; she took it and linked arms with him. The two walked side by side carefully.
“Your hands are cold too. I’ll have the servant bring some tea.”
“There’s no need for that.”
Walking arm in arm like this made her feel, for the first time, as if they were truly husband and wife.
When they returned to the bedroom, Theodore led her straight to the fireplace and sat her down before it. Their hands were still clasped together as he tried to warm her icy fingers.
The orange glow of the firelight reflected on their faces. In that soft light, their lips met.
It was a quiet and gentle night.
“Did you enjoy your snow play last night?”
It was nearly noon when Elena finally opened her eyes. Mary asked the question with a sly smile, clearly aware of the Grand Duke and Duchess’s “private” evening.
Elena buried her face in the pillow, and Mary laughed loudly. Though unmarried, Mary could be terribly cheeky.
“Don’t be shy, my lady! You’ve lazed around long enough already!”
“It’s not that, Mary… I think I’m sick.”
Thinking her lady was only pretending to avoid embarrassment, Mary touched Elena’s forehead—and gasped. Her skin was burning hot.
“You should’ve said something sooner!”
“Ugh…” Elena closed her eyes tightly. She realized it must’ve been the cold wind and the snow play that caused her illness.
“I’ll be fine if I rest. No need to make a fuss.”
“My lady…”
“I’m going to sleep. Don’t wake me. If Donovan comes, give him food.”
“That wretched bird’s stronger than you are! Please, think of yourself, my lady!”
Elena gave a faint smile and pulled the blanket up to her nose.
“I was hoping to do your hair today…”
Mary muttered, then quietly left her to rest. Elena soon drifted back into sleep.
“My lady.”
She didn’t know how much time had passed. Day or night, one day or two—it was all a blur. She only woke when she felt a hand gently lifting her upper body.
“I heard you were sick. Why didn’t you call for a physician?”
Elena’s mind was foggy with fever. She could only feel the cool touch of the damp cloth wiping her face and neck.
“You were right,” she murmured faintly.
“About what?”
“I don’t know how many winters I can survive here.”
The food didn’t suit her taste, the cold was unbearable, and now she was sick. She wondered if she’d even make it through the year.
Theodore, who she expected to scold her sharply, stayed silent.
“You’ll recover soon,” he said simply.
He handed the damp cloth to Mary and took a bowl of thin soup. The sight of the large, stern man blowing gently on a spoonful of soup made Elena laugh weakly.
“If you took another wife the day after I died, I wouldn’t blame you,” she said half-jokingly.
She meant it, too. There wasn’t much affection between them, and she doubted she’d live long enough to give him a strong heir. Theodore frowned and brought the spoon to her lips.
“If you have energy to say nonsense, then eat your soup.”
Elena obediently ate from the spoon he offered. Just then, Mary’s voice came from outside the curtain.
“My lord, the physician has arrived. Shall I bring him in?”
“Tell him to wait.”
He kept feeding her until the bowl was empty before letting the doctor in. Once the curtain was drawn and he stepped back, Elena could finally breathe a little easier.
The physician examined her carefully while Theodore’s sharp gaze stayed fixed on him. The man looked so nervous that Elena almost felt sorry for him.
“Fortunately, it’s nothing serious,” the doctor said. “It seems her body’s been overworked from adjusting to the climate. With rest, she’ll recover soon.”
“That’s all?” Theodore asked coldly.
The doctor looked between the two before adding, “I’ll also prescribe a herbal tea to strengthen her body. If she drinks it three times a day, she’ll be on her feet again soon.”
Theodore signaled to Mary, who quickly followed the doctor out to learn how to prepare the tea. When they left, Elena coughed lightly and looked at Theodore.
“You may go now,” she said weakly.
“I was just about to,” he replied curtly.
Elena glared at him tiredly. He never said comforting things like “I’ll stay by your side.” Still, when she shifted to lie down, he helped her adjust the pillow and blanket.
“Do you remember I promised to bring you a gift?” he asked.
“I think so…” she murmured, blinking.
He reached into his coat and placed something in her hand.
“I didn’t plan it this way, but it turned out to be quite a fitting gift.”
It was a hair comb, decorated with jewel-like flower designs. Compared to southern craftsmanship, it was rough, but Elena couldn’t take her eyes off it.
“This time, protect it well from the crow,” he said.
“I will. Thank you.”
Theodore smiled faintly—he could smile, after all. He kissed her forehead, watched her quietly for a moment, and then left the room. Elena fell asleep holding the comb tightly in her hand, afraid to lose it.
Outside, Theodore ran into Mary, who had just returned from seeing off the physician. He gestured for her to follow him to his study.
“Speak,” he ordered as he sat down.
Mary’s voice trembled. “There’s been a crow following my lady lately. She says she befriended it during a walk… It visits every morning and bothers her.”
“You weren’t with her during these walks?”
“I’m sorry, my lord!”
Mary dropped to her knees. Theodore sighed in irritation. A crow, huh… He tapped his fingers on the desk.
“And it’s true the crow stole her comb?”
“Yes, that happened during one of her walks as well…”
So there was no way to confirm Elena’s story. When his hand stilled, Mary began to tremble.
“Mary,” he said coldly, “I gave you one task—to watch her.”
“I-I’m sorry, my lord! It won’t happen again!”
His gaze was as cold as ice.
“Donovan. She called the crow Donovan,” Mary blurted out.
“Donovan?”
He fell silent, thinking. Mary exhaled in relief.
“So she’s finally met the sinner,” he muttered.
The crow’s master—was it that bastard child? Mary froze, unable to breathe. She had tried to stop her lady, but it seemed Elena had gone to meet the sinner anyway.
“Well,” Theodore said indifferently, “it’s about time to deal with him.”
Then, changing the subject, he asked, “Why does she look even thinner?”
That was an easier question. Mary answered quickly, “I think she’s homesick, my lord. She keeps asking if there’s mail from the South, and the food doesn’t seem to suit her taste.”
“She’s quite the troublesome woman,” he said with a crooked smirk.
Of course, one of the letters from the South—sent by her old nanny and Duke Selum—had asked if the northern food suited her. Southern people and their pointless pride over food…
Mary, desperate, pleaded, “Please, my lord, have mercy on her.”
“Of course,” he replied coldly. “I can’t let the bride personally chosen by His Majesty the Emperor die just yet.”
Mary had thought that after last night—after finally sharing a bed with his southern bride—the Grand Duke’s heart might have softened. She had been wrong. As she knelt on the cold floor, her hands turned icy.
