<9>
“De… Delsi!”
“Delsia!”
Count Perdo and Arnold each grabbed one of Delsia’s shoulders, their hands trembling. It was hard to believe that she didn’t even have the strength to sit up properly on her own.
Delsia exhaled sharply, feeling a dull ache around her heart, just as she had before falling into a deep sleep. Even the slightest movement left her feeling utterly drained, as if she had run a full sprint.
“Ah… Father… Brother…”
Her voice cracked and trembling, Delsia’s eyes burned with tears. A small fear had sprouted inside her. She had been so focused on the possible side effects Edwin might suffer that she hadn’t even considered her own. Only now, feeling her own body’s reaction, did it hit her.
She realized just how arrogant it had been to assume she would be fine, that she could handle it. Without the strong hands supporting her, Delsia wouldn’t have been able to sit up from the bed.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Th-This… this is…”
“Oh, Delsi…”
Delsia could barely speak, her lips parting in small, silent movements. Count Perdo and Arnold’s eyes reddened along with hers. Perhaps it was the realization that Delsia’s condition, after finally opening her eyes, was worse than they had feared. They couldn’t hold back their tears.
The dignity of the family head, the respectable position of a knight—both were useless before a family member who seemed on the verge of death.
“De… Delsia…”
The luminous eyes of his sister had gone completely dark. Eyes that had once shone like beautiful gemstones had lost their light.
…All because of him.
Veins stood out on Arnold’s hand as he gripped Delsia’s shoulder. Her gaunt, frail frame felt unbearably fragile in his grasp, leaving him with a sense of helplessness.
“H-huh…”
Arnold bit his lower lip and sobbed. The reality that his sister struggled even to lift herself up was impossible to accept. Delsia, who had always been relatively healthy, now trembled like a lifeless corpse.
How could anyone accept a reality they had never imagined?
Blood seeped from the bitten lip, droplets falling to the floor.
“E-Edwin… Edwin… how is he? Is he… did he return safely?”
The first words she managed to speak were about Edwin, tearing at the hearts of her family who had been struggling to stay composed.
Her dark, lifeless eyes whispered Edwin’s name, then flickered with a small shard of light. Count Perdo, unable to ignore it, drew Delsia into his arms.
He handled her as if she were a delicate glass ornament, careful not to break her. His large hands, veins taut with tension, stroked her head again and again. The touch, meant to calm both Delsia and himself, gradually eased.
“Duke Adelio… returned safely.”
“A-ah… thank goodness.”
Hearing that she had returned safely, a faint blush appeared on Delsia’s previously pale cheeks, like a tiny flower petal had fallen. Count Perdo closed his eyes tightly as he continued stroking her head, letting her hair fall where it may.
Everything will be fine. She will live a long life. I will make it so. Over and over in his heart, Count Perdo murmured these words as he laid Delsia back on the bed. Even her faint blush sparked a mixture of relief and frustration.
His daughter, relieved immediately after ensuring the duke’s safety, without knowing how much of his own life remained…
He felt so bitterly frustrated.
“…I’m sorry, Delsi. I have much to attend to, so I must go.”
“It’s… haah, it’s okay. Please go quickly.”
“…I’ll send up some soup. Eat while it’s hot.”
“Yes… I will.”
Her faint reply drifted away almost immediately.
Count Perdo clenched his fists and left Delsia’s room. His cheeks were wet with clear, hot tears as he walked.
“Brother must be busy too… I’m sorry for worrying you.”
“No, no. I’m not busy at all, Delsia.”
Kneeling beside the bed, Arnold shook his head. He drew Delsia’s small hand into his own, enclosing it gently. Warm, yet fragile, it rested in his palm. Her tiny hand was so delicate that Arnold couldn’t bring himself to squeeze it or let it go.
He gazed at her silently, muttering prayers under his breath:
May a miracle happen for our Delsia… May she receive her share of luck. The small murmurs became wind, drifting out through the slightly open window.
“Miss.”
Anne knocked and called to Delsia. Arnold, turning his head to the door, responded on her behalf.
“Come in.”
“…I have something to tell the young lady.”
Anne’s voice trembled as she carried a tray with a bowl of soup. Before the door was fully open, she hurried to Delsia’s side. Delsia’s cerulean eyes softened gently.
Anne hesitated for a moment, recalling what she needed to say to the kind-eyed Delsia.
“…Miss.”
Biting her lower lip, Anne spoke. She placed the soup on the small bedside table, swallowed nervously, and clasped her hands in front of her like a guilty prisoner. In a low voice, she said:
“Duke Adelio…”
“Ed… Edwin? How is he?”
“He… he is well… but…”
“…Anne?”
Anne squeezed her eyes shut. Arnold and Delsia watched her, waiting.
“Lento says… Duke Adelio… has lost his memory.”
“Ah… that… I already knew.”
“He remembers everything else… but… but only not the young lady.”
“…Huh?”
Delsia smiled faintly, nodding, and then fell silent. She pictured Edwin clearly in her mind—everything remembered, yet unable to recognize her.
The way he would look her in the eye, coldly speaking with that tone and attitude.
Still… perhaps he could at least remember her name. No… that was impossible. Edwin, who had seen her quietly yet failed to recall who she was… would never remember her name.
Delsia had already heard from Vianna that Edwin might lose his memory, so she had been prepared. But she hadn’t anticipated that he would forget only her. She had assumed that forgetting her would mean forgetting other things too.
But that wasn’t the case. Edwin had forgotten only Delsia. Only… Delsia.
“It’s… okay. I was prepared for this… so… it’s okay.”
Preparedness. If only the word could shield her from what was to come. Delsia’s face fell. All she had wished for was a small miracle, a faint chance to get through it. Nothing else.
As always, miracles evade the hand reaching out from the bottomless pit, leaving not even a sleeve to grasp.
The sunset outside the window was beautiful. Delsia thought that it was fortunate she had carefully stored her feelings for him before giving her heart. After all, it would be difficult to fully convey her feelings to Edwin, who had lost only his memories of her. She wondered whether the heart she had pressed down deep inside had reached him at all.
Even in this grim situation, Delsia’s mind was full of concern for Edwin. Even if he were to sneer at her, muttering “fool, idiot, dummy,” she could not stop worrying about him. Struggling to exhale the breath she could not take, she clutched her throbbing heart and moved toward the window.
Her hand trembling on the windowsill, she gazed out at the darkening landscape, beautiful and precious. Perhaps someday Edwin would look back on the memories she had left in her heart.
Even if that “someday” were in another life, Delsia felt she could endure. The fact that Edwin was alive was enough to sustain her.
Delsia stumbled toward the bed. She sank down after a few steps, yet she smiled.
Even though her heart pounded as if it would burst, she was happy. Edwin was fine, breathing and walking normally, behaving properly.
Though he did not remember her, at least he remembered everything else…
“…Ah.”
Tears streamed down Delsia’s cheeks. The grief she had forced down swelled within her. Sitting on the carpet, her body trembled.
Her hand pressed over her mouth, shaking.
“Ugh… sob… uh… ugh.”
The suppressed sobs squeezed out between her fingers and melted into the air of the room. Fortunately—or unfortunately—they did not escape through the small gap in the door.
Her ears rang. Her throat ached. Her heart pounded violently.
And her chest… her chest hurt.
It hurt so much.
