Chapter 9
The peak of summer was approaching.
It seemed that she had caught an early summer fever. In the sweltering heat that could raise temperatures in an instant, quite a few people had fallen ill with summer fever.
Vivian brought her hand to her cheek and felt a lukewarm temperature rising along her cool skin. Her flushed cheeks felt oppressively warm.
It was certain that she—so robust and energetic, who could dash through Pover with ease—had succumbed to summer fever.
Vivian swiftly turned her head and buried herself deep within the carriage.
If anyone found out she was sick, not just her mother and father, but everyone in the mansion would worry. But since she had rarely been seriously ill before, she assumed this would be just a passing cold, fleeting and inconsequential.
The carriage soon entered the mansion and gradually came to a stop. The door opened, and Vivian stepped inside. Betty, who had been waiting for her as always, immediately approached.
“Ah… Miss, your face is flushed.”
“Ah, it’s nothing.”
Betty gave Vivian an inquisitive look as she lowered her head and followed her up the stairs, puzzled by her unusual quietness.
Had something happened?
Normally, Vivian would chatter endlessly about where she had been, who she had met, and what she had seen. But today, she was unusually silent.
Especially since she had visited the long-anticipated Lockeberg summer villa, Betty had been secretly curious about what had happened inside.
“C’mon, let’s go!”
The clattering sound of Vivian hurriedly climbing the stairs made it clear that something was amiss. Scratching her cheek, Betty hurried after her.
Had something really happened?
There was no time to hesitate. A servant’s duty was to attend to their master. Betty quickly approached and stopped in front of Vivian.
“Are you feeling unwell?”
Vivian’s shoulders twitched at Betty’s words.
Betty was perceptive enough to notice that lingering here might reveal Vivian’s fever. Vivian gathered her trembling voice, smiled, and nodded as usual.
“No? I’m fine!”
“…Really?”
Betty raised her eyebrows skeptically, scrutinizing Vivian. Aside from her slightly flushed face, she appeared outwardly fine.
“Yes! Really.”
Vivian turned her face to hide it from Betty and smiled brightly. Then, recalling something, she spoke without hesitation.
“Betty.”
“Yes, miss?”
“Could you summon Madame Purin tomorrow?”
Betty blinked.
“You mean you want to see Madame Purin right now?”
“Yes.”
“My goodness!”
Betty approached Vivian with a look of genuine delight and nodded vigorously.
The young lady who used to run away whenever it was time for Madame Purin’s etiquette lessons had now requested her instruction. Truly unprecedented. Finally, the young lady had expressed a genuine desire to learn the manners of a proper lady. Betty was certain her mistress would feel immensely proud upon hearing this news.
She smiled and nodded repeatedly.
Soon enough, Vivian’s worry became reality.
On a blazing midsummer day—the first days of the longest month of the year—Vivian fell ill with summer fever for the first time in her life.
Lying in bed in thin clothes, her face was as red as a ripe apple. Warm breaths escaped through her slightly parted lips.
“She’s running a high fever… what should we do?”
Betty’s anxious voice pierced her ears.
The world was spinning.
It should have been a mild fever, something easily endured. Yet Vivian was shocked at how little control she had over her own body. Until yesterday, she hadn’t been incapacitated to the point of being unable to move a finger. Her body was merely overheating.
But why…
“Fetch Robert.”
Why was she so dizzy?
Vivian exhaled in a daze and closed her eyes. The heavy, suffocating air seemed to amplify her fever. The thick blanket covering her chest felt unbearably stifling.
“Be…tty…”
“Miss!”
…Too much.
“I’m… burning up.”
Vivian’s words acted as a signal.
The young lady was sick. She had truly fallen ill with a summer fever.
Until now, the young lady had never displayed signs of illness, large or small. Her fever sent shockwaves through the entire household. The young lady they knew might fall sick, but she would never show it.
Finally, the household was forced to accept that their mistress was genuinely ill.
News of Vivian spread beyond the mansion, reaching the town of Pover. Immediately after she collapsed, Betty tearfully went to fetch the Mabel family physician, Robert. Someone witnessing the scene spread the news, which sparked the rumors. Soon, the entire town of Pover was filled with concern over the ailing young lady.
Vivian had met the outcome she had always dreaded:
the bitter medicine, Betty’s excessive worry, and even her mother’s reproach.
She couldn’t understand why she had caught this fever. The summer in the Argent Empire was scorching. Pover, bordering the Taniche Sea that connected Argent and the Duchy of Leman, was even hotter. In such weather, people avoided going out, seeking shelter in cool shadows.
Vivian had not been particularly active outdoors, so it wasn’t as if her fever had come from overexertion.
She buried her face deep in the blanket. It was unbearably hot. If someone asked about her fever, she would say it felt as if she were burning alive.
The worst summer.
Her twelfth summer began with ominous signs.
The oppressive heat, the sticky air, the damp humidity. Worst of all, her weakened body.
Once freed from this stifling fever, she intended to visit Grandpa Ren. Surely, the wise old man would understand why she had fallen ill.
Vivian closed her eyes, succumbing gradually to the rising fever.
Edmund furrowed his brows at the noisy commotion outside and moved toward the window. The sounds came from merchants delivering goods at the mansion entrance.
“You are awake, sir?”
“It seems a bit lively outside.”
“Ah, the groceries are arriving. Being a coastal area, the ingredients spoil quickly, it seems.”
The merchants moved with a familiar, steady rhythm, one that could become monotonous over time. Losing interest, Edmund sank back into his chair.
“Lady Norma invited you to join breakfast.”
“Inform her I will attend.”
“I shall prepare it.”
Edmund glanced away from the departing Barner.
A peaceful estate, a leisurely atmosphere. At least for visiting this summer villa, it provided a sufficient pretext to console himself for the loss of his mother.
There was no place more perfect to grieve for a mother who had denied her son’s very existence.
Adjusting his shirt buttons and cufflinks neatly, Edmund proceeded toward the conservatory where his grandmother awaited.
Barner had informed him that the breakfast invitation would take place in the glass greenhouse of the garden—probably the same place the child had once intended to go.
Edmund recalled the absurd scene from that day: a strange child with her head stuck in a metal cage, looking miserable. Like a rabbit trapped in bars. A laugh escaped him again at the memory. Her etiquette may have been a disaster, but at least she had provided an amusing spectacle in this quiet villa—she was clearly a remarkable young lady.
“Oh dear, what a predicament.”
“To fall ill with such a fierce summer fever… how unfortunate.”
Edmund’s steps slowed as he overheard the trivial chatter of the merchants carrying groceries.
“The town of Pover will be quiet for a while.”
“She’ll be laid up for three full days, at least.”
The merchants’ murmurs of sympathy vanished when they saw Edmund. They set down their loads and bowed deeply. After acknowledging their greetings with a slight nod, Edmund passed them with an emotionless expression.
Yet, after a few steps, he slowed again.
The girl was undeniably interesting. Vivian Mabel. Apparently beloved by everyone in Pover. She seemed to have a natural charm that drew people in.
Perhaps it was the opposite of himself: the warmth and kindness only someone raised with love could possess.
Shaking off these meaningless thoughts, Edmund narrowed his eyes. It was an inexplicable annoyance.
