Chapter 37
“What?!”
Count Sester cried out in shock. Come to think of it, his daughter had been calling the princess “sister” more and more often lately. A chill of foreboding ran down his spine.
Rosalie looked straight at him with her clear, wide-open eyes.
“Dad. I–I’m going to become independent now. I want to become a grown person who can truly take responsibility for herself. I think… I c-can do it if I stay by my sister’s side.”
“Ro–Rosalie, what are you talking about? You’re so frail—what could you possibly do after leaving home? What if you get hurt? You were so shaken by this incident that—”
“Dad.”
Rosalie shook her head gently, her brows drawing together.
“Th–there’s something you don’t know.”
Rosalie slowly walked toward the table in the middle of the room. When she suddenly moved in the middle of their conversation, Count Sester followed her with a puzzled gaze.
Rosalie’s small fist lightly struck the tabletop.
Crash—!
The thick table made of solid wood shattered as easily as a cookie. Dusting off her hand, Rosalie looked back at Count Sester with a bright, refreshing smile.
“I–I told you. Th–that I wouldn’t get hurt.”
Count Sester’s jaw dropped so far it nearly hit the floor. Unable to find words, he could only stare back and forth between the shattered table and Rosalie.
After summoning a physician to the princess’s room, William returned to his own and collapsed onto the bed without even changing his clothes.
Mark, who had been nearby, wrung out a cold cloth and placed it on the duke’s forehead.
“The doctor says not only Her Highness, but you as well need to recuperate for a while, Your Grace.”
“……”
“There’s inflammation in your injured knee, and it’s causing a fever! I told you again and again to rest, but you stubbornly stayed by Her Highness’s side, and now look at this. Honestly.”
William pressed a hand against his throbbing forehead and gestured for Mark to leave instead of replying.
But Mark ignored him and continued nagging.
“If you’re going to rest, at least wash up first. You look awful right now.”
“…Get out.”
“Then at least eat something before you sleep. You barely ate anything while Her Highness was unconscious, did you?”
“I said get out.”
“Why are you acting so unlike yourself, Your Grace?”
William finally sat up abruptly.
His crumpled expression was quite fierce, but Mark still didn’t stop.
“Tell me. What on earth happened to make you this sharp-edged?”
“……”
The duke remained silent for a long while. Gripping the fallen cloth tightly, he stared blankly ahead, as though seeing something no one else could.
Mark parted his lips in frustration, but in the end, he waited quietly.
At last, William spoke.
“Her Highness…”
“Yes, go on.”
“Um.”
“What about Her Highness? Are you worried you’ll be questioned about something?”
“No, it’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“Mark… have you ever seen a royal who doesn’t value their own body?”
“No. Everyone values themselves, don’t they? Especially those with a lot to lose. Royals most of all.”
William nodded as if he agreed, yet his expression remained troubled, as though he couldn’t understand it.
“Exactly. I’ve never seen a noble who didn’t spare themselves. Until now.”
“That’s normal.”
“But Her Highness wasn’t. I can’t grasp what on earth she’s thinking.”
“Well, forgive me for saying this, but I do wonder how much thinking she actually does.”
William shot Mark a sharp glare and snapped back.
“Don’t judge her carelessly. She may be someone far greater than we can ever measure.”
“…We are talking about the same Princess Raphaella, right?”
“She was the first to jump into danger. She even made herself the bait.”
“Let me ask again. We are talking about Princess Raphaella, correct?”
Unable to hold back, William flung the cloth away, but Mark deftly caught it and dropped it back into the basin.
At Mark’s annoyingly lively movements, William barked again.
“Get out.”
“If I leave, who’s going to take care of you, Your Grace? Now lie back down.”
“I said get out.”
“Yes, yes. I was planning to fetch some food anyway.”
Grinning, Mark practically forced William back onto the bed.
After enduring days at Raphaella’s bedside while she was unconscious—and now with a fever on top of it—the duke was too exhausted to resist and collapsed weakly.
He wanted to think a bit more, but perhaps because Raphaella had awakened and the tension finally eased, he quickly fell into a deep sleep.
Time passed quickly at Sester Castle.
Under William’s ironclad supervision, Raphaella was confined to her bed for two full weeks.
Even when William, who recovered first, went to the harbor to provide relief aid, Rosalie, Annie, and Mark—whom he had stationed in advance—took turns guarding Raphaella’s side.
Thanks to that, Raphaella recovered at an astonishing rate. The physician was so amazed that he recorded everything, saying he wanted to use it as research material. Of course, the fact that it was merely a small privilege of a vessel containing a god went unmentioned.
“The doctor probably thinks it’s because of the spirits, right?”
“Seems like it. Every time he examines you, he keeps looking at Ferry. But Ferry doesn’t have that kind of ability.”
During the brief moments when their guardians changed shifts, Raphaella and Ferry secretly slipped out to sit on the terrace.
The warm sunlight pouring down felt wonderful. From the castle perched high along the coast, the horizon stretched far into the distance, and a gentle breeze carrying the salty scent of the sea drifted by. It was truly a perfect view.
Ferry suddenly giggled and continued.
“I guess humans don’t know how rare healing spirits are. Dad said he’s only seen them twice in his entire life.”
“Only that few? I lived a long time as a goddess myself, but I’ve never seen one either.”
“And if Ferry really had that kind of power, I wouldn’t have let you suffer like this, Master!”
Clenching her tiny fists, Ferry spoke with a serious expression. She was unbearably adorable. Raphaella placed Ferry on her palm and gently stroked her head.
Raphaella wasn’t the patient, quiet type to begin with, and being cooped up in her room despite being fully healed made her restless. Just coming out like this made her feel alive. Perhaps because she knew this freedom was brief, it felt all the sweeter.
As Raphaella had expected, the little act of rebellion didn’t last long.
The glass door to the terrace flew open, and Annie rushed in.
“Your Highness! I told you not to expose yourself to cold air yet. Honestly, I can’t handle this.”
“Come on, Annie. Feel this breeze yourself. Does this really feel cold? It’s practically early summer—it’s warm!”
“When you’re recovering from serious injuries, you must never let drafts into your body! My younger siblings always did that—went out to play just when they were almost better, and then the fever came back.”
“I’m just too stifled. Just ten more minutes, and I’ll go back in.”
“No.”
Though she spoke with a pout, Annie lifted Raphaella up with the utmost care. Her touch was so gentle, like handling a baby bird, and it felt surprisingly warm.
Raphaella’s expression grew strange and complicated.
The empress had planted six people in the relief expedition. Raphaella knew that. But the mana-stone prison incident confirmed the seventh person she had only suspected before.
The young maid who dressed Raphaella for imperial banquets. The one who stayed closest to her, caring for her attentively and nagging her throughout the journey of the relief expedition. That person was Annie.
Only those who rode in the same carriage knew of Ferry’s existence. The reason Raphaella had crossed William and Mark off the list of suspects was simple: the duke wasn’t capable of such a thing by nature, and Mark was more loyal to William than to the royal family.
Annie, on the other hand, had long been manipulated by the empress, making this outcome inevitable.
Her younger siblings must have been taken hostage again. Just like last time.
From the very fact that Annie had been sent, Raphaella could see just how ruthless the empress was.
What’s horrifying isn’t that she sent someone skilled at this kind of work—but that she sent a maid who knew the circumstances.
It meant she had sent Annie assuming she would eventually be discovered. A powerless young maid—use her as needed, then discard her. Just like she had done with the bandits.
When Raphaella obediently sat back down on the bed under her guidance, Annie smiled brightly, genuinely pleased.
“Here, please have a warm cup of tea. You need to warm your body after being out in the sea breeze.”
Meeting Raphaella’s eyes, Ferry subtly nodded.
After sniffing the tea with her sensitive nose, Ferry signaled that there was no poison in it. Only then did Raphaella calmly accept the cup of tea Annie poured and drink it.
