Chapter 23
“What kind of method is that?”
When Layla stared at him intently, Rainier looked away and sighed. He looked like someone who had almost let something important slip out unintentionally.
Then he quickly returned to his usual calm expression and diverted the conversation with a smile.
“The Avier County is just as wealthy as the Bruce Marquisate.”
“But our family doesn’t go out of its way for my health like that. You know that too, Rain.”
Rainier was well aware of that. It was also because the Count didn’t know the full extent of her condition.
He considered telling the Count about her condition—but then gave up. Even if he did, nothing would change.
He glanced at the red-covered Balkan-language book he’d brought.
Inside that book was a future where she had told the Count everything. But even then, the Count’s reaction had been completely unexpected.
“How in the world are we supposed to get a mermaid’s tear? And why on earth would Carmen try to poison you?”
“It’s true! I’m really sick, Father! The medicine I’m taking… it’s not right…!”
But the Count hadn’t believed her, and even after Layla’s death, he didn’t even order an autopsy.
“Rain?”
Rainier was unconsciously staring at the book with a tilted gaze, and Layla, surprised by his expression, called out to him.
—Rumble!
Thunder cracked outside, followed by heavy rain.
“Ah, sorry. I was lost in thought.”
“It’s okay.”
“So, if you get healthy, are you planning to reconsider your relationship with the Bruce heir?”
When Rainier asked softly, Layla was momentarily speechless.
It struck her again just how handsome he looked when he smiled playfully. And yet, she reminded herself that this man belonged to her stepmother’s side.
Strangely enough, remembering that Sonet was friends with Hugo made him seem less attractive, but Rainier was still ridiculously good-looking, regardless.
She also knew why he was trying to change the subject—he couldn’t reveal that he was of royal blood.
Knowing that, Layla decided not to press the issue. After all, she needed to stay on his good side right now.
In fact, it was more dangerous because she knew. She couldn’t afford to let go of Sonet either, even while trying to stay close to Rainier.
“No.”
So it took her a moment to respond.
“Why not?”
It seemed like a crack formed in his smile.
“I told you. I like Sonet. And he likes me. I don’t know how much longer I have left to live, but I want to be with someone who cherishes me.”
“Then if someone who cherishes you even more than Sonet Bruce comes along and you’re healthy—would you break off the engagement?”
“Why are you being so persistent today?”
“If you answer, I’ll stop asking.”
Layla avoided his gaze and sighed. His eyes were intimidating.
“I’ll take that as a yes. But… I’ve never met anyone who cherishes me like Sonet does.”
“That’s just because your life has been short so far.”
“…Yeah. I guess you’re right.”
Layla couldn’t understand what he was so tense about.
In the original story too, Rainier had a habit of blurting out whatever came to mind when he got nervous. It wasn’t meant as an insult—he just had no filter.
Maybe right now, he was pestering her like this because of something her stepmother had ordered him to do.
“Still, I like Sonet.”
With that, she gave her final answer and went to sit on the bed. But she couldn’t help glancing at him—his red eyes were a little frightening.
He was still smiling. But now Layla could tell: that smile wasn’t genuine. He seemed angry—though she had no idea why.
“You’re on the bed now, so it’s time for your medicine.”
“Aren’t you going to examine me?”
“No.”
Layla silently watched him pour the medicine into the kettle and, with no other choice, took it and fell asleep.
The medicine he gave her seemed to contain mermaid’s tears—but whatever else was in it, it made her feel better, so she drank it.
After that, Layla had expected her stepmother to show up and threaten her, but she didn’t. That was strange. Knowing her stepmother’s temperament, she should’ve come storming in to scold her.
Layla thought that if her stepmother caused a scene again, she wouldn’t just sit back this time. In fact, it might even be a good thing if she tried to push her around like before.
“My lady, you have to go here today.”
Catherine held out an invitation.
It had been a very long time since Layla had received an invitation.
She knew that most invitations addressed to her had been secretly discarded. And ever since her health worsened after her debutante ball, she rarely got any in the first place—unlike Sibere.
“I don’t think I have the stamina for a ball.”
When she said that, a brief flicker of guilt crossed Catherine’s face. Layla noticed it and chuckled.
“Well, if I don’t go, you’ll be in trouble. So I’ll just drop in for a bit.”
“My lady, if you’re not feeling well, you really don’t need to—I’ll explain to Madam…”
“No, it’s fine. Where is it?”
Layla picked up the invitation from the silver tray.
As she read the contents inside, she mumbled to herself without thinking.
“…No way.”
Dear Lady Layla Avier,
I sincerely hope you will attend the upcoming ball.
Each year, I was saddened to hear that you couldn’t come due to illness.
This time, I truly hope you will grace us with your presence.
—Ramiela
The seal next to the name belonged to the Empress.
Layla couldn’t understand why the Empress would invite her. And what did she mean she sent invitations every year?
The current Crown Prince was the Empress’s son. Of course, once Rainier returned to the imperial palace, those titles would disappear.
“I’ve never seen this before…”
“Miss Sibere attended on your behalf every year.”
“…Ah.”
Now it made sense.
“Layla! Her Majesty the Empress invited me!”
“Congratulations, sister. I’m too sick to go, but I hope you enjoy it for both of us.”
“Sorry, Layla. I don’t have a partner—do you mind if I take Hugo with me?”
Now that she thought about it, that ball might’ve been the beginning. Even before Hugo, Sibere had often taken Layla’s suitors as her own partners.
“Did she get an invitation too?”
“I heard this year they sent them separately.”
“I see.”
So that’s why it was passed on to me.
Layla chuckled softly, then suddenly had a fun thought and said to Catherine:
“I guess I’ll need a new dress.”
“Madam already gave permission for you to get one tailored however you like.”
“So Father knows too.”
“Yes.”
Layla smirked as she looked at the blank check her father had left.
Layla headed to the dress shop designated by the Count.
“Please be careful, my lady.”
Rainier was accompanying her.
Originally, she’d planned to come with Sonet, but he had work and couldn’t join her.
Layla had considered coming alone. But—
“My lady, you’re ill. You shouldn’t go out alone. What if you collapse?”
“Then the knights will take me to the hospital.”
“Still, isn’t it better if someone who can perform emergency treatment comes with you?”
She had no argument for that. It seemed like Rainier was more of a con artist than a doctor—but he did seem to know real medicine.
After taking his meds, she could walk normally, even briskly. Something she never could have done before.
She could even breathe without discomfort now. The medicine likely contained something energizing mixed with mermaid’s tears.
Of course, taking too much of that would eventually stop her heart.
“Give me your hand.”
“There are germs on hands…”
“I’ve already disinfected mine.”
Layla figured there was no point arguing and accepted his escorting hand. He gripped it too tightly at first, then loosened his grip like he’d just realized it.
“Your hand is so small. I thought I might drop it.”
“I see. Rain, you’re so sweet.”
Layla instinctively smiled when their eyes met. Rainier frowned and looked away.
The two of them entered the boutique.
“Welcome. Do you have an appointment?”
“This is Lady Layla Avier, daughter of Count Avier.”
“Ah, yes. You’re on the list.”
At Catherine’s words, the clerk smiled and began leading Layla in. Layla used Rainier like a walking cane as she followed.
They were guided to a VIP room in the back, and Layla looked around as she walked.
She thought that since the Count had designated it, it would be some shabby, low-quality place—but it was surprisingly luxurious, the kind of place royalty might use.
“The Count recommended a white dress for you, my lady. If you’ll have a seat, I’ll bring you similar designs.”
“All right.”
Layla sat on the sofa and waited while the clerk brought the dresses.
“How about this one?”
“It’s pretty.”
“And this?”
“Also pretty.”
Somewhere nearby, a familiar voice was saying the same thing over and over. Layla grew curious and stood from her seat.
Rainier looked puzzled, then followed her when she began to walk.
“Where are you going?”
She didn’t answer—just kept walking forward.
After pulling aside a few curtains, she heard voices behind the next one.
“And this?”
“Pretty.”
Layla pulled aside the last curtain.
Beyond the white partition curtain, she saw—
“Layla?”
“Layla!”
—Sonet and Sibere.
