Chapter 3
For some time now, the two children had been making a huge fuss every morning, running laps around the training grounds to build up their stamina.
Honestly, it would have been better if they had just rested comfortably indoors, but everyone pitied Winter, who had been given a terminal diagnosis, and let her do whatever she wanted.
“B-but at this rate…”
Miss, you really look like you might die.
Unable to bring himself to say those words out loud, Maydillian trailed off hesitantly.
Seeing his reaction, Winter tilted her head—then soon softened her voice and gently soothed him.
“Don’t worry, May. People don’t die that easily. When you grow up, you’ll become very strong—and a very fine, handsome man.”
She didn’t even dream that the one Maydillian was worried about dying was her.
“R-really…?”
Scratching his head shyly, Maydillian didn’t seem to fully understand what she was saying either.
“Th-then… s-should we run j-just one more lap…?”
“Sure! That’s a great posture! Let’s see who gets there fir—ah!”
Excited by Maydillian’s rare suggestion, Winter dashed ahead—only to lose her balance and pitch forward.
“L-Lady Winter!”
Fortunately, Maydillian caught her as she stumbled, preventing a serious accident.
It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, which was why he could react so quickly.
“…This is really annoying.”
There were more and more things she could clearly do in her head but couldn’t do because her body wouldn’t cooperate.
Winter clenched her teeth, her expression darkening.
Noticing immediately, Maydillian carefully guided her beneath the shade of a tree and spoke in a small voice.
“I-I’ll… I’ll run f-for your share too, my lady…”
Winter’s eyes widened at his words, then she smiled again.
“You’ll run my part too?”
At her light, laughing question, Maydillian grew embarrassed and simply nodded without a word.
Then he turned and started running again.
Watching his retreating figure, Winter quietly placed a hand over her chest.
Her heartbeat was frantic and hurried, as if even the act of running had been too much for her.
In this world, some people experienced something called “blooming” once they reached a certain age.
Simply put, it was the awakening of magical power.
Based on the nature and level of that awakened magic, one’s rank as a mage was determined.
As for Winter, she was said to possess the aptitude of a grand mage, with abnormally high magical power.
Unfortunately, her heart was not strong enough to withstand that level of magic.
Even the magic she had just awakened had already placed an immense strain on her body, causing her to collapse. Once she reached adulthood and completed full blooming, her heart would be unable to endure it and would burst outright.
That was why Winter had been given a terminal diagnosis.
Magical awakening tended to coincide with the period of secondary sexual characteristics, and if there was a child nearby who had already awakened magic, the process could accelerate.
The magical waves released during blooming had a particularly harmful effect on someone like Winter, whose magic was abnormally vast.
That was one of the reasons Duke Vladimir had placed her cousin Albert under house arrest and sent him away to the provinces.
She wanted to remove anyone near her daughter whose magic had not yet stabilized.
However, there was one existence the duke had failed to take into account.
Maydillian.
The man who would awaken the second-greatest magical power in this world—after Winter.
Because of Winter, Maydillian might even awaken his magic earlier than scheduled.
But if she revealed all of this, the duke would separate them immediately, so Winter decided to keep it a secret for now.
“Miss.”
Winter had been sitting beneath the tree, watching Maydillian run diligently, when a maid with green eyes approached her.
“Hi, Nyla.”
Nyla was a maid who had taken care of Winter since childhood. As a side job, she worked as an assassin.
She was said to be the captain of the ducal family’s secret guard despite her young age—but that wasn’t particularly important here, so let’s move on.
“How was your vacation?”
Every time Nyla carried out a mission given by the duke, she would disappear under the pretense of taking leave, then return later.
Sometimes she came back with injuries, but fortunately this time she didn’t seem hurt anywhere.
“It was very enjoyable.”
“Oho, I see.”
“It seems you’ve made a new friend while I was gone, miss.”
Even though she knew Winter had been given a terminal diagnosis in her absence, Nyla didn’t mention it.
That cool yet gentle consideration made Winter smile in satisfaction.
“That’s right. Isn’t it nice?”
“Yes. But the stablemaster’s son—what sudden whim brought this on?”
“Just because.”
True to his word, Maydillian was running earnestly, lap after lap.
His sweat-soaked hair gleamed brightly under the sunlight. His eyes were red, like late-blooming peonies.
Thanks to being well-fed and well-clothed, his complexion had improved noticeably. Most of the bruises that once marred his body had faded.
Watching Maydillian run freely with his chest held high, Winter smiled.
“I’m going to raise that kid properly.”
The office was silent, not a sound to be heard.
Duke Vladimir, sipping wine as he gazed out the window, lifted his head. He had sensed a familiar presence approaching.
Soon, there was a knock at the door.
“Your Grace, I’ve brought the child.”
“Enter.”
The door opened, and the butler stepped inside. Maydillian followed behind him, shrinking back nervously and glancing around.
With his darting eyes, he looked exactly like a frightened little mouse, and the duke clicked his tongue softly.
Even that faint sound made Maydillian’s shoulders twitch.
“You may leave.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
At the duke’s words, the butler bowed deeply and exited the office.
Left alone with the duke, Maydillian trembled, fear gripping his entire body.
Black hair. Golden eyes.
Like a lone wolf beneath a blue moon, the duke radiated a savage presence.
Lady Winter had the same hair and eyes, but she felt like a soft, angelic being. To Maydillian, the duke didn’t resemble her mother in the slightest.
“What is your name?”
Unaware of Maydillian’s thoughts, the duke asked in a low voice.
“M-Maydillian.”
“Maydillian, hm… A name far too grand for the son of a mere stablemaster.”
At the duke’s sneering remark, Maydillian pressed his lips together.
He didn’t know how to respond.
The name Maydillian had been given to him by his late mother, but they had parted when he was very young, leaving him with hardly any memories of her.
To begin with, Maydillian didn’t feel particularly attached to his name.
“My daughter seems quite fond of you.”
At the mention of Winter, Maydillian’s eyes changed.
Since entering the office, he had been curled up like a small animal hiding from a predator—but now, he straightened his back slightly and met the duke’s gaze.
Noticing this, the duke narrowed his eyes.
“My child is ill. Do you know that?”
Maydillian nodded silently.
In truth, it wasn’t a particularly respectful response to a superior. Moreover, the duke preferred people who answered clearly and firmly.
And yet—this frail, malnourished-looking boy… Why did Winter dote on him so much?
No matter how much he thought about it, the duke couldn’t understand.
Irritation filled his gaze as he released killing intent, as though he might cast Maydillian out at any moment.
“If anything happens to my daughter, who won’t even live long to begin with, I will not spare you either.”
“Y-yes… I understand.”
Watching Maydillian nod frantically in terror, the duke let out a scoffing laugh.
“I will be watching you. You may leave.”
Clutching his trembling chest, Maydillian fled the duke’s office.
A short while later, the duke summoned the butler and spoke.
“He looks no better than a mangy mule. Is he really fit to stand beside my daughter?”
“I will take care of it, Your Grace.”
The loyal butler bowed deeply.
After that, Winter took Maydillian with her wherever she went.
Being constantly beside the precious young lady of the ducal house changed everything—what he ate, what he wore, what he saw.
Thanks to that, Maydillian, who had once been far smaller and thinner than his peers, grew quickly, his complexion becoming much healthier.
And there was another change as well.
“Miss.”
“Yes?”
“Why are you just staring at my face instead of eating?”
Spending all day together—talking, reading books—had rapidly expanded Maydillian’s vocabulary. Unless he was extremely flustered, he no longer stuttered.
The servants of the ducal household were all astonished by the change.
Smooth, well-kept hair, clean skin, and even neatly groomed hands and nails.
The bruised, filthy little boy had transformed into a doll-like child with gleaming silver hair and rose-red eyes.
“Just watching you eat makes me feel full.”
Winter replied with a satisfied smile.
Hit by that blunt statement, Maydillian hurriedly looked away.
Seeing how red his ears had turned, he was clearly embarrassed.
Giggling at the cute sight, Winter soon composed herself and spoke again.
“May.”
“Yes?”
“Is there anything you want?”
At those words, Maydillian quietly set his spoon down, then shook his head urgently.
“N-no. There’s nothing. R-really, nothing.”
Seeing how flustered he looked, Winter narrowed her eyes.
Was there something he wanted but couldn’t say?
“Don’t hold back. If there’s something you need, anytime—”
“N-no! Really! I d-don’t need anything!”
“Hmm, is that so? All right, then.”
Smiling sweetly, Winter cut into her meat with a terrifying expression—one that looked like she’d create something to give him if he truly wanted nothing.
