An Unexpected Letter
I couldn’t believe it, frozen like stone without end.
Not only had someone who knew about Frezen and me sent a letter, but they had also written about Mela? …Why on earth?
“Th-This is true?”
“I don’t lie about things like this. You know that better than anyone, Evlyen, don’t you?”
“Well, yes… but I just can’t believe it!”
Despite my intense reaction, Frezen didn’t even twitch an eyelid.
Even though he must have been the most surprised, he remained so calm; truly an astonishing man.
Calm down, calm down. I tried to settle my mind and took several deep breaths to avoid showing my confusion.
As I sank into the chair, Frezen continued speaking as if he had been waiting for it.
His voice remained neutral and indifferent, as if he were a bystander.
“Calm down. I’m trying to figure out who sent it too… Anyone around you suspicious?”
“No, absolutely not. If there were, I could at least have some suspicion.”
My greater confusion stemmed from Mela. As for Frezen and me, it was obvious what might have been written without even looking. After all, we had already made headlines due to our divorce.
But Mela had only recently come to our family, so few would know. In the knight’s photograph, Mela had ridden in the back carriage, so she wouldn’t have appeared.
Then who could have written about Mela? And sent it to Frezen as well?
Most of all, telling someone unrelated to Mela about her seemed strange.
Could it be that, again, the helper behind Mela had sent it? If so, they would know that Mela was with me now, making it the most plausible theory for the moment.
Yet questions remained. I didn’t know their identity, so I couldn’t judge their intentions prematurely.
As I pondered with a serious expression, Frezen asked me:
“You look like you’ve got a guess.”
“…No, not really.”
I quickly avoided his piercing gaze, feeling caught off guard.
His suspicious stare didn’t diminish, instead growing sharper.
I forced myself to appear unaffected and changed the topic.
“So what was in the letter? Especially about Mela?”
Frezen’s face immediately darkened. He went silent, as if he had forgotten how to speak.
“…”
The atmosphere was so cold I dared not speak.
I thought I might have spoken in vain, but I had no intention of correcting myself.
Strictly speaking, I was one of the parties involved; it was natural to be curious.
“So, where is Mela right now?”
But Frezen seemed determined not to tell me.
I frowned as he ignored my question and started looking for Mela first.
I swallowed my rising anger and tried to respond calmly.
“She probably has no special plans today, so she should be in her room. But seriously, what was in the letter?”
“…Nothing important.”
“Hmph. If it were nothing, you wouldn’t have come here. You could handle it on your own. Fine, I’ll read it myself.”
Frustrated by his stubbornness, I reached for the letter on the table.
In the blink of an eye, Frezen snatched it away.
“Nothing important?”
“Ah! Just let me see it for a moment. Why hide it? We’re both victims here!”
As he rose holding the letter, our small height difference became immediately obvious. My competitiveness flared, and I jumped to grab it, but it was useless.
“…Ugh!”
As I bit my teeth and jumped several times, I stumbled, toppling forward.
With a crash, a loud noise echoed. I opened my tightly shut eyes to see what had happened.
Luckily, I managed to grab the letter as I fell. I opened it first.
“…”
[This letter began in the Brian Empire, circulated once a year, and brings fortune to the recipient…]
But as I read the content, I could only feel deflated. It was just a lucky letter!
“See, I told you it was nothing important.”
Frezen smirked mischievously. He probably hadn’t even opened the real letter.
“I love seeing you react like this, Evlyen.”
“Ah, really…!”
I realized I had been played by his prank, and my anger spiked.
Of course he wouldn’t simply hand over the letter. I noticed the floor felt unusually soft under me.
To be exact, it was warm, yet oddly firm.
The reason became clear when I heard him speak.
“Evlyen, how long are you going to stay like this? I’m getting hot.”
“What do you mean… Agh!”
I realized too late that I was on top of Frezen and scrambled to move.
He, who had been lying peacefully like a gentle lamb, suddenly grabbed my wrist firmly.
“Evlyen.”
“…”
I couldn’t even move, staring at him in surprise. His eyes were unexpectedly full of melancholy, making them feel deeper than usual.
My heart raced with tension as I felt his gaze boring into me.
We had been pressed together for some time, which made my pulse hammer all the more.
As I struggled to lift myself, he spoke again, easing some of my tension.
“…I’ve never thought of you as an enemy.”
“…”
He referred to our previous conversation in the carriage.
‘Don’t think of deceiving me. I’ve never been fooled by an enemy’s lie.’
Although he hadn’t shown it, he had clearly remembered.
My heart fluttered in response, and I couldn’t speak, biting my lips.
“You’re not my enemy, you are my…”
Frezen’s lips slowly parted, almost teasingly.
His scent was faintly fresh yet intoxicating, like roses.
The rise and fall of his chest pressed against me made every breath feel so vivid.
Every nerve stood on edge, my own breathing constrained.
My lips dried as I waited for him to continue.
“…The only one…”
Then, abruptly, the door slammed open and a maid’s urgent voice pierced the room.
“Count! There’s a serious problem!”
“Miss Mela…!”
***
“Mela!”
Upon hearing Mela was unwell, I rushed frantically to the bedroom.
The moment I entered, a heavy silence filled the room; nobody spoke first.
The maids surrounding the bed stepped back as they saw me.
“Count!”
Lily, who was close to me, stepped forward to explain.
“After lunch, Mela suddenly turned pale.”
“Yes! She just had carrot soup with bread and fruit. What should we do, Count?”
The maids exchanged nervous glances, unsure how to act. I approached Mela to check her condition.
Her belly was swollen, and she was breathing with great difficulty, groaning in pain.
It didn’t look like a simple allergic reaction. Wait, carrot…
At that moment, amidst the tense atmosphere, a low voice cut through:
“Looking closely, there are marks on her neck. Well, technically not bruises but spots.”
