PDRM 56

Chapter 56

The child suddenly remembered Roze’s words about waiting outside the dining hall and, after a moment of sniffling and gloom, her eyes lit up.

“Right! I’ll sneak out and go back to my room with Roze. I’ll feed Hayan and play with him too.”

Plita smiled softly as if she had never been upset, then turned toward the entrance to leave.

Everyone else was engrossed in their meals or conversations and paid no attention to the small child quietly slipping out of sight. Even Haven, surrounded by nobles, didn’t notice Plita.

As Plita made her way from the corner of the dining hall toward the door, a creaking sound suddenly came from above, and a large shadow flickered at her feet.

“…Huh?”

Plita looked down at the swaying shadow at her feet, frowning in confusion, then craned her neck to look up at the ceiling.

At that moment, Roze, lingering outside, peeked into the dining hall and saw Plita near the door. The child was looking straight up, tilting her head back as far as she could.

“What is she looking at?”

Roze tried to glance toward the ceiling where Plita’s gaze was fixed. But before she could, Plita straightened her head, met Roze’s eyes, and her face lit up.

“Roze!”

As Plita called out cheerfully, the creaking above grew louder—this time even more than before.

Even Roze, peering through the open door, heard it.

Instinctively sensing danger, Roze looked up. Her eyes widened at the sight of the massive chandelier swaying precariously above.

And directly beneath it was her child.

“Plita!”

Roze’s eyes went wide. Forgetting even to address her as “Princess” in her panic, she shouted the child’s name and sprinted into the dining hall.

Almost simultaneously, the enormous chandelier began to fall, and Roze lunged toward Plita.

Haven, conversing with nobles on the other side of the hall, witnessed the scene.

“…!”

Crash!

“Ahhh!”

The deafening sound of the chandelier smashing to the floor reverberated through the dining hall, accompanied by the screams of those nearby. Beneath the shattered chandelier, a fragile woman lay sprawled. Crimson blood poured around her.

Seeing this, Haven’s face drained of color, and a sharp pain gripped his chest. Fighting back the tremors threatening his body, he hurried toward them.

Plita.

…Roze.

His beloved child, and…

Then, as if calling out to Haven, the child wriggled free from the woman’s arms and burst into tears.

“Waaaah! Daddy! Roze, Roze!”

Bloodied, Plita clung to the unconscious Roze, reaching out with tiny red-stained hands toward Haven as he approached.

“That huge chandelier fell… yet, this is almost a miracle.”

After examining Roze, the Grand Duke’s personal physician spoke, his tone full of astonishment.

“Although her arm is broken, it’s unrelated to her life. A splint will suffice until the bone heals. Honestly, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to say that the gods themselves intervened…”

“She lost a lot of blood. Is she really okay?”

Haven interrupted the physician, worry evident in his voice as he gazed at the woman on the bed. The physician glanced at Haven, somewhat puzzled, before answering.

“It is a bit concerning, but as long as she eats well and rests, she should recover. Her body seems fragile, so we’ll prepare medicines suited for her condition.”

“Thank you.”

Haven finally exhaled, relief washing over him. The physician gave a polite bow and left.

“Then… Roze, are you okay now?”

A small head peeked out from under the bed. Plita had been crouched there, sniffling. Haven lifted her onto his lap.

Normally, she might have been startled to sit on her father’s lap, but the child was completely focused on Roze, paying no attention to him. Haven smiled wryly and gently stroked her head.

“The physician said she’s fine, so she is.”

“…But why are you still crying?”

Plita turned from Roze to look at Haven, tears clinging precariously to her eyes.

“You were scared. It probably hurts too.”

“…It’s my fault. Roze got hurt saving me. I… sob… was under the chandelier. If I hadn’t tried to go out… if I had stayed put like I promised you…”

“Plita.”

Haven turned her gently to face him. She looked up at him, tears streaming.

“It’s not your fault.”

“But…”

“You didn’t do anything wrong. If anyone is to blame, it’s the servant who neglected chandelier maintenance, and the Count who employed them. You were just in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Roze jumped to save you.”

Haven’s voice carried weight, slow and sincere, ensuring his daughter wouldn’t bear undue guilt.

Plita seemed to understand. Her sobs gradually subsided, and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Isn’t it because of me?”

“No.”

“…Do you think Roze would think so? What if she gets mad thinking it’s my fault?”

“Would Roze do that?”

Plita shook her head, biting her lip. Haven smiled.

“Right. Roze isn’t that kind of person. She’ll be glad you’re safe. She may even feel relieved she got hurt instead of you.”

Haven looked at Roze again. Her already pale complexion had worsened.

“She’s far too weak.”

He muttered to himself, frowning. Plita tugged on his sleeve.

“Give Roze lots of good medicine.”

“Yes.”

“So she can stay healthy and live with me for a long time, cough!”

Plita coughed mid-sentence, and Haven frowned.

“Do you have a cold?”

“No. The physician said it’s not a cold.”

“Then why cough…? Let’s check your temperature.”

He touched her forehead, thankfully finding no fever. As he withdrew his hand, Plita quickly grabbed it.

“Daddy.”

“Yes?”

“Do it for Roze too.”

“…What?”

“Like this, on her forehead. When you put your hand on my forehead, it doesn’t hurt.”

“But you said it didn’t hurt already.”

“Hmm. But it hurts even less like this. So do it for Roze too, so it doesn’t hurt her.”

Plita tugged his hand toward Roze. Haven was flustered; it was almost the first time she had shown such persistence. And she wanted him to place his hand on Roze’s forehead…

“Plita, this is a bit…”

“Roze is in pain. So…”

Haven sighed, realizing he had no choice but to reach for Roze.

His hand hovered above her forehead, hesitant to touch her—understandably. It felt like touching an unsteady, unconscious woman, even if it was “just” her forehead.

“Daddyyyy…”

Yet, he couldn’t ignore his daughter’s pleading eyes. He took a deep breath and gently placed his hand on Roze’s forehead.

“….”

Instantly, a frown formed on Haven’s brow. Roze’s forehead was icy cold. He scanned her carefully, checking for chills or other issues.

“…Mm…”

At that moment, Roze turned slightly and grabbed Haven’s hand.

“…!”

Haven couldn’t withdraw his hand in time. Normally, he would have moved easily. But in his focus on checking her condition, he was caught off guard.

“Wow, Daddy and Roze are holding hands!”

Plita shouted excitedly, despite the tense situation. Haven quickly shushed her.

“Shh, Plita.”

“Yes! Roze can’t wake up.”