Chapter 58
Recovering sealed memories was a far stranger experience than she had expected—and also…
This is ridiculous.
It was absurd. Almost hollowing.
She couldn’t understand why she had lived all this time having forgotten these memories. Even when Matilda had visited Rotleben before, not even a fragment had surfaced—so why now?
“How is it? Did anything come back to you?”
Cecilia was still chewing over emotions she couldn’t quite name.
The old man, who had been watching her with deeply sunken silver-gray eyes, quietly posed the question.
“Yes. I think I understand what it is that I gained.”
Cecilia replied with a smile, but the corners of her lips stiffened subtly.
Eyes that could see the color of emotions.
To think that had been a gift from Morvena.
‘A gift can become a curse. That is the nature of the relationship between gods and humans.’
Because of a childish wish made in ignorance, she would suffer for the rest of her life.
She would be lying if she said she didn’t feel wronged. She couldn’t even understand why she had made such a wish in the first place.
Back then, her friendship with Matilda had felt like everything.
Cecilia closed her eyes quietly as she sorted through her turbulent thoughts.
In any case, what was done was done. Whether she would ever meet Morvena again—and whether she could ask her to take back her power—was uncertain at best.
More likely impossible.
Being blessed with the fortune of meeting a god twice was unlikely.
That left her with only one hope.
“Then… if I keep coming to the temple, will my body eventually improve?”
Every time she visited the temple and received treatment from the old man, hadn’t she shown noticeable improvement?
Wouldn’t it be reasonable to hope that if she continued visiting him, she might someday recover?
A faint expectation settled into Cecilia’s pale green eyes.
She didn’t understand the principles behind how he adjusted her inner energy, but somehow, she felt that the man before her might be able to resolve it.
Meeting Cecilia’s almost desperate gaze, the old man lowered his eyes to the table.
“…I will do my best.”
His voice sounded faintly uncertain, but at its end, his resolute gaze met hers directly.
“So make sure you don’t miss your visit next month. For now…”
He hesitated, trailing off before continuing softly.
“It would be best for you to avoid leaving this land as much as possible—and to stay by your husband’s side.”
It was a firm pronouncement. The old man clasped her hand tightly, as if to impart strength.
“I, too, will help you as much as I am able.”
Cecilia, whose hand had been hanging limply, pressed her lips together.
She tightened her grip around his hand and pulled her lips into a smile.
There were still many things she didn’t understand, but for now, she had no choice but to trust the old man.
* * *
When Cecilia emerged from the temple, Marcus—who had been lounging lazily in a sunny spot—hurried over.
“What did the old man say?”
“The same as always. He told me to come again next month.”
“…And how is your body?”
“I’m much better. Doesn’t it look like my phlegm’s settled down a lot?”
Cecilia cleared her throat exaggeratedly, as if to prove the point, and grinned.
Setting aside Morvena’s gift and what lay ahead, her cold symptoms had indeed eased significantly. Breathing felt a little easier.
Taking a deep breath, Cecilia turned to Marcus and raised an eyebrow.
“By the way, where is Sir Ayer?”
“Oh, he was summoned to the castle. He returned ahead of us.”
“Really? Was it something serious?”
“Not really. Honestly, it didn’t seem like something that warranted calling Dylan either. I think they made a fuss over nothing.”
Marcus smiled breezily, clearly unwilling to elaborate further, and bowed to her with exaggerated flourish.
“Then Your Highness should head back as well! If you fall ill again after all that treatment, my heart will ache.”
His tone was light, as usual.
Smiling faintly, Cecilia returned to the carriage. As Ellie climbed in after her, Cecilia noticed her darting glances and tilted her head in confusion.
“What is it?”
No sooner had she asked than the carriage lurched forward.
Outside, Marcus continued escorting them, the sound of hooves clattering rhythmically against the ground.
Using the noise as cover, Ellie lowered her voice, her face tense.
“It’s about Sir Ayer.”
“Mm.”
“When I saw him earlier, he looked really urgent.”
That contradicted Marcus’s report.
He had said it wasn’t serious.
Had he omitted details because it truly wasn’t important—or had it been intentional?
Cecilia’s brow furrowed as Ellie continued nervously.
“I wanted to listen in when he reported to you, but since Sir Marcus spoke as if it were nothing… I started wondering if I’d just imagined it.”
Ellie’s face tightened belatedly, as if she feared she’d spoken out of turn.
Pouting slightly, she looked dejected. Cecilia shook her head gently, trying to reassure her.
“No. Thank you for telling me, Ellie. I’ll ask Sir Ayer again once he returns.”
“I hope it’s nothing serious…”
Ellie’s lips drooped worriedly.
Soon realizing it wasn’t something she could resolve herself, Ellie returned to her usual cheerful chatter, recounting bits and pieces she’d heard elsewhere.
Meanwhile, Cecilia gazed out the window, lost in thought.
Something definitely happened.
Thoughts that ran counter to the excited mood of awaiting the arriving apprentice continued to coil endlessly in her mind.
Those speculations followed her all the way to the grand ducal castle—and even until she met Dylan.
“Sir Ayer.”
“I greet the Grand Duchess.”
Dylan bowed crisply, as always. His high-tied red hair fluttered lightly.
Seeing that his face looked no different than usual, Cecilia felt some of her tension drain away.
More than disappointment, relief washed over her.
At least it doesn’t seem serious.
She cast a subtle glance downward, observing the mist surrounding Dylan as well. Nothing seemed amiss.
The pale green mist drifted calmly, shimmering faintly at times but showing no signs of disturbance.
Seeing such a clear reaction, the sharp edge in her nerves gradually softened.
“Was everything resolved?”
“Yes. A fellow knight was injured, so I had to step away to manage the situation. I apologize.”
“There’s no need to apologize. I was just worried it might be something serious.”
As she spoke, Cecilia studied the color of Dylan’s mist closely—but it remained stable, floating peacefully without change.
Only then did she fully relax, allowing herself a genuine smile.
“I’m glad it was resolved. There are no further outings scheduled, so you may rest for a while if you wish.”
Normally, Dylan would have refused.
But after hesitating briefly, he bowed deeply once more and withdrew.
Seeing his tired steps rekindled her concern, but since the mist itself indicated nothing was wrong, pressing him further felt like needless harassment.
Cecilia pursed her lips worriedly, then shook her head and turned her gaze elsewhere.
She failed to notice Marcus standing a few steps behind her, quietly observing her every movement.
