Chapter 12
“I just want to be treated the same as everyone else. Like any ordinary person.”
Isabella’s low, subdued voice tore through Cleor’s skin.
He felt dazed, as if he had been struck on the head with a hammer.
Why was Isabella treating him with such detached indifference?
Had the Noveldic Ducal House failed to show her enough affection?
To ask to be treated normally—there was no way that could ever happen in Noveldic.
They had waited for Isabella for so long.
Was it because this was their first day meeting?
No, it didn’t seem like something that time alone would fix.
He wondered what was inside her heart.
How could someone come to have such a resigned, self-abandoning attitude?
Cleor rubbed his face repeatedly with his dry hands.
On his palm lingered the scent of Isabella’s blood.
“I can grant you anything, but that at least will be difficult.”
Cleor picked up a towel and roughly wiped the blood off his own body as he approached her.
He leaned his face toward Isabella.
So close their noses almost touched, Isabella did not avert her gaze from him.
“Isabella. You accepted my proposal, and from that moment, you took on the duties of a Grand Duke’s consort. The first of those duties is to naturally accept my attention.”
“That makes no sense at all…”
“Shh.”
Cleor tucked the strands of hair that had fallen over Isabella’s face behind her ear.
“Second, from now on you will rightfully enjoy everything that comes with being a Grand Duke’s consort. Enjoying those things is your role. Rare delicacies, all kinds of famous medicines said to strengthen the body, the beautiful great nature of the North, the respect of the servants… You must properly enjoy all of it.”
It was forceful.
“Is there a third one?” Isabella asked.
Blue eyes and black eyes mingled, creating a beautiful color like the night sky.
“Of course.”
It was so absurd that she found herself wanting to hear it.
“What… duty is it?”
“To be honest with me, at least.”
“I’m always honest.”
Cleor stared straight at Isabella.
When he pulled back, she felt a chill.
“Isabella, are you alright?”
“With what?”
“You just coughed up blood. I’m asking if you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“Liar.”
Ah—only then did Isabella realize that Cleor’s question had been a test.
Her lips parted slightly.
“See? You’re not being honest.”
Cleor lifted one eyebrow lightly. Isabella quietly closed her mouth.
“When you’re not okay, say you’re not okay. Let’s start with that. Ah, and the medicine.”
Cleor, thinking his intentions had been clearly conveyed, reached for the bell to call the maid, then stopped.
“Medicine?”
Isabella tilted her head.
“I heard there’s a medicine that eases your condition. Do you know what it is?”
Medicine…
Only then did Isabella think of Johann, whom she had forgotten.
Johann Angelus.
He was a servant of the goddess Solstella.
The goddess Solstella was the goddess of life and light, and everyone in the Empire loved her.
Everyone except Isabella.
Though Solstella was said to grant love to all, she had given nothing to Isabella.
But Johann, a servant of Solstella, was different.
When Isabella decided to marry Cleor and visited the temple one last time, Johann came out to the temple gates to greet her.
“It’s been far too long since you last came.”
Isabella bowed her head lightly.
Passing priests whispered as they looked at Isabella and Johann.
‘The cursed young lady is here again.’
‘Why does Johann keep meeting that woman?’
‘That’s why he’s been stuck as a low-ranking priest forever, isn’t he?’
“Please don’t mind their words or their gazes. How is your health?”
Johann was an elderly priest.
“Johann, what do you think about quitting the priesthood?”
White marble buildings and spotless white priestly robes.
The temple desired purity, as if filth did not exist in the world at all.
Even their toilets were kept clean and fragrant, which required many hands.
The temple, completely isolated from the outside, did not want non-priests to touch anything belonging to the gods.
So the priests had to do all the work.
And the hardest, most menial labor was mostly assigned to the lowest-ranking priests.
The higher one’s rank as a priest, the more honor and wealth one gained.
It was an honor and wealth difficult to obtain unless one was born into a distinguished noble family.
That was why many people aspired to become priests. But only a few could rise to become mid-ranking priests, high priests, and then archpriests.
Yet one could not remain a low-ranking priest forever, clinging to hope.
Once they reached a certain age, most low-ranking priests quit and left the god’s embrace.
The work was hard, and there was no hope.
To remain a low-ranking priest until such an advanced age like Johann was extremely rare.
“The goddess still needs the hands of her servant.”
Isabella followed Johann, looking at him with pity.
Johann’s room contained nothing but a shabby single bed, a tea table barely large enough for two people, and a desk and wardrobe by the window.
‘That simple personality must be what kept him from abandoning me.’
When Isabella’s condition worsened in childhood, Count Helsingten visited the temple out of a sense of duty.
The archpriest refused, saying they could not take care of a cursed child, and sent her away.
— W-w-wait a moment!
At that time, Johann stepped forward.
He blocked the count who was about to leave and prayed for Isabella.
— May I help?
And that was how he began to help Isabella.
Count Helsingten looked Johann up and down and said indifferently, ‘Do as you like.’
That was already ten years ago.
“Johann, please give me as much as possible.”
“Ah… I was only able to prepare this much today.”
Johann opened a small drawer with an awkward expression.
Inside was a transparent bottle no bigger than a pinky finger, containing less than half-filled green liquid.
Isabella unconsciously looked disappointed.
“This should last about two months.”
“That’s enough.”
That was enough to reach the Noveldic territory.
All Isabella needed was to arrive there.
“Johann. I’m leaving for the North now. Can you teach me how to make the medicine?”
“The North?”
Johann’s voice rose. His eyes demanded many explanations.
“I’m getting married. To Sir Cleor, the Grand Duke’s son of the Noveldic Ducal House.”
Johann’s face twisted frighteningly.
“Johann?”
“The medicine is not made. It is simply obtained.”
“Where can I obtain it?”
“That is…”
“I’m curious about the medicine you take.”
When Cleor spoke again, Isabella came back from her memories.
“I don’t know.”
“What did you say?”
Cleor’s tone rose slightly.
“I don’t know.”
“You’re not lying again, are you?”
Isabella gave a faint smile.
“Why would I? There’s not much left anyway. If I don’t have it, I’ll be uncomfortable too. Why would I hide it?”
After coughing up blood and speaking at length for the first time in a while, Isabella felt slightly short of breath.
“You should rest first. But before that, who have you been getting the medicine from?”
“Johann, a servant of the goddess Solstella.”
Isabella answered honestly.
Because she wanted to rest quickly.
Cleor repeated her words, then rang the bell.
Soon Betty, Clara’s maid whom they had seen earlier that day, rushed in.
“My lady, is something wrong?”
Her excited voice, big eyes… and then—
“My goodness! Young master! What on earth have you done?!”
“Me?”
Cleor was half undressed, and Isabella lay on the bed with a pale face.
Betty’s eyebrows shot up. She spread her arms and blocked Cleor.
“Betty?”
“I’m telling the mistress everything! No matter how urgent it was, how could you do something like that to such a weak lady!”
“Urgent?”
Only then did Cleor understand her misunderstanding.
And he was dumbfounded.
“Betty, you think I’m some kind of beast…”
“You are a beast, young master!”
“Please… be quiet…”
After Betty’s loud entrance, the noise made Isabella’s head ring.
Isabella rubbed her head against the pillow.
“You’re definitely a beast!”
“Be quiet, Betty.”
Cleor heard Isabella’s voice, barely above a whisper.
As Betty was about to speak again, Cleor gestured behind him.
Isabella looked extremely exhausted.
“Betty, we’ll clear up the misunderstanding later. Isabella coughed up blood.”
“Eek!”
“Don’t panic. She’s probably more startled than you are. Call a physician, and change Isabella’s bedding. Oh, and my shirt too.”
“Yes, sir. But why your shirt?”
“Should I keep walking around half-naked next to Isabella?”
“Are you planning to stay?”
Betty asked, surprised.
Cleor laughed lightly.
As if it were obvious.
“My wife is sick. Isn’t it natural that I stay by her side?”
The one who was truly shocked was not Betty.
It was Isabella.
That night, a great commotion broke out.
The rumor that she had coughed up blood spread through the ducal castle in an instant, and an emergency was declared.
Isabella thought a war had broken out.
Knights guarded the front of her bedroom—something she still didn’t understand even in the morning, why knights had to guard her room—and famous physicians from the North lined up to see her.
Cleor was the kind of man who always kept his word.
Even while the physicians examined Isabella, even while her bedding was being changed, he did not step out of her room even once.
As a result, Isabella did not lift a single finger when moving.
Cleor would watch silently, and if she so much as tried to move, he would come over and lift her, support her waist, or place cushions behind her.
The Duke and Duchess arrived, and Clara was no exception.
The Duke and Duchess immediately struck Cleor on the back.
— What were you doing beside her?
Victor’s aged voice was filled with blame.
Though Cleor had done nothing wrong.
It was simply that her body was weak.
How could he control what happened inside her body?
Cleor looked quite unfairly treated.
— I’m sorry.
But unexpectedly, those words came from Cleor’s mouth.
Victor and Angela glared at him with dissatisfaction, but did not scold him further when he admitted fault so cleanly.
Instead, Clara pinched Cleor’s waist and glared at him sharply.
— I’m sorry.
Cleor apologized to Clara as well.
— You should apologize to my sister!
Clara sniffed.
Cleor walked over to Isabella.
— I’m sorry.
For what?
Isabella wanted to ask.
But she didn’t.
She was afraid her voice would come out strangely.
It was a blue dawn.
It was time for the Black Wolf Knight Order’s early morning training.
Cleor decided to go to the training grounds for a moment to wake himself up.
As soon as Cleor left, Joan rushed out into the corridor.
A knight blocked Joan as she tried to enter Isabella’s room.
“Who are you?”
“I am the maid who came with Lady Isabella from Count Helsingten’s household. Lady Isabella often suffers even in her sleep, so I always stayed by her side.”
Her gentle tone and polite manner made the knight lower the spear that had been blocking her.
“Thank you, sir. Everything in the North is unfamiliar to her. She’ll feel more comfortable with someone she knows.”
The knight failed to notice the corner of Joan’s lips lifting into a faint smile.
