CHAPTER 84…………………
“…?”
I still couldn’t quite get my head straight.
The situation was so absurd, it was hard to process.
Arpad… was worried about me?
I still couldn’t believe it.
And he even seemed hurt because I didn’t acknowledge it…?
Did that even make sense?
Maybe when people get too shocked, their brain stops working properly.
Or maybe my brain just wasn’t running right because I hadn’t eaten properly in the five days I was unconscious.
It was then—
A silver spoon appeared in front of my mouth.
“Ah.”
A long, masculine yet beautiful hand—though covered in scars—was holding a spoonful of thin soup.
In other words, Arpad had brought a bowl of soup and was trying to feed me.
Of course, it wasn’t the first time Arpad had fed me food.
Back in front of the Emperor and Empress, we’d put on that nauseating act, feeding each other.
And… we’d even shared dessert with one spoon.
(It horrified me when I realized afterward.)
I wanted to say, I have hands, I can feed myself, but—
That wasn’t possible right now.
How tightly did this man wrap me up?! Why won’t it come loose?!
No matter how much I squirmed, it was useless.
My body had no strength, and the blanket cocoon he’d made was ridiculously secure.
Meanwhile, my stomach was growling, completely empty.
And why does this soup smell so good?!
Grrr~.
My empty belly complained again.
In the end, I couldn’t resist my desires.
Arpad’s hand had held steady the entire time, without a tremor.
Finally, I had no choice but to part my lips.
“…Ah.”
At that, Arpad smiled for the first time since I woke.
Not his usual calculating smirk, nor his deadly grin.
But a pure, boyish smile.
“Good girl.”
Swept away by that smile, I let him feed me spoon after spoon, until the soup was gone.
It was a whole day later that Arpad finally released me from my blanket cocoon.
To be fair, I had tried to escape countless times.
But all of them ended in pitiful failure.
“Um, Your Highness? Sir Arpad? Don’t you think it’s about time you let me out?”
“I have so much to do. I can’t waste time like this!”
But instead, he fed me more soup and medicine, wiped my face, changed the sheets and blankets—
And then wrapped me right back up and put me to bed.
“Don’t think. Just sleep.”
“No—you know how critical this moment is! If I make one wrong move, the Empress could strip me of control over the inner palace again!”
“That won’t happen.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“Because I won’t let it. Don’t you trust my ability?”
“……”
“So just focus on recovering.”
And with that, Arpad pressed me back down and gently patted the blanket over me.
“Don’t worry, don’t think—just sleep. Leave it to me.”
I wanted to resist. My will was firm.
But my body… clearly wasn’t. My eyelids felt unbearably heavy.
“I can’t… sleep right now…”
“Yes, you can. Trust me and sleep.”
A soft shhh brushed my ear.
My body, exhausted after five days of fever, surrendered.
I sank once again into sleep.
This time, unlike the last five days… it was sweet and peaceful.
Arpad handled the documents Yulken had brought right at Hilia’s bedside.
Of course, there were limits—he couldn’t take care of the secret schemes Hilia had set up without his knowledge.
But at least things like tracking the capital’s social circles and preparing responses? That was well within his reach.
Yulken, who had brought the documents to the chamber door, was fidgeting nervously.
“How is Lady Consort? Is she all right?”
Arpad had known Yulken for ten years.
And he was sure—before or after this, there would never be another time Yulken worried so nervously about his wellbeing, the Crown Prince’s.
Not that Arpad expected it. Or was disappointed.
He simply clicked his tongue and slammed the door shut.
From the other side came Yulken’s indignant shout:
“You must take good care of our Lady Consort! Your Highness can’t handle everything alone—you must nurse her properly!”
Arpad couldn’t deny it was unusual.
She really was a strange woman.
Barely a month in the Crown Prince’s palace, and she’s bewitched the entire household.
Who knew if it was actual magic.
Arpad sighed, gazing at Hilia’s face as she slept deeply, while continuing to review the documents.
At least her expression was calmer now, compared to when her fever had raged.
Back then, her whole body had burned, and she’d been tormented by nightmares without pause.
Without realizing it, Arpad reached out and stroked her cheek, checking if any heat lingered.
Fortunately, her fever was gone.
But—
On her once-peaceful face, tears began to well at the corners of her eyes.
Like dewdrops fattening with moisture, the tears grew fuller, until they soaked her cheeks.
Arpad had seen plenty of tears. And blood.
But this was the first time someone else’s tears made him feel… pity.
There are so many emotions I’m experiencing for the first time.
And every one of them came from this woman.
The strangest part was… none of it felt unpleasant.
With a long sigh, he wiped her tears away.
The droplets clung to his fingertips like transparent jewels.
Staring at them for a moment, Arpad acted on impulse—
He licked them.
The liquid that touched his tongue was not sweet.
Of course it wasn’t—no one’s tears were.
But I thought… this woman’s tears, like her blood, would taste sweet.
Her skin was soft as marshmallows, her hair pink as cotton candy.
And her eyes were like violet sugar drops.
She looked like someone who would melt sweetly on the tongue no matter where you tasted her.
But her tears carried the salty flavor of sorrow.
It left him with a strange ache, a gnawing worry, and… thirst.
Then Hilia’s pink lips parted, and a small murmur escaped.
“…Sir Beltane…”
“……”
Arpad froze, hard as stone.
The next morning, when I opened my eyes—
My body felt wonderfully light.
“Ahhh—!”
Stretching, I sat up. Annie greeted me with a bright, relieved voice.
“You’re awake, Lady Consort! How are you feeling?”
“Mm. Much better. Just… a little weak.”
Through my hazy eyes, I noticed a stack of documents by my bedside.
I picked up the top one—it was a report analyzing the state of the capital’s social circles after the banquet.
Not only was the analysis thorough, the proposed countermeasures were flawless.
The handwriting, the detailed instructions, and the signature—I recognized them instantly.
Arpad did this?
It was so perfect, I couldn’t help but gape.
Exactly the way I would have handled it myself.
What a relief. Despite my fears yesterday, my absence had barely left a mark—things were running smoothly.
I was still marveling when Annie pleaded with me, voice thick with worry:
“Please don’t start working the moment you wake up. I’m scared you’ll collapse again.”
I set the document down and answered,
“Okay. Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault. But you mustn’t overexert yourself ever again.”
Her worry made me feel guilty, and an apology slipped out naturally.
And then—Arpad’s words from yesterday floated back into my mind.
“You seem to have forgotten that I, too, am a man with red blood in my veins.”
I thought belatedly—
“……”
If I had just said, Sorry for worrying you, maybe Arpad wouldn’t have gotten angry.
Maybe… he wouldn’t have shown such a wounded expression.
As I sipped the richer soup Annie had brought, along with my medicine, I asked:
“Where’s Arpad?”
The answer I received was unexpected.
“He’s speaking with Sir Beltane.”
“…?”
