THND 07

THND

Chapter : 7

“Your Grace, blood…! Are you all right?”

All he did was drink the tea I had brewed with the leaves I brought, but the Duke of Casiar coughed harshly and spat blood.

Startled, I rushed forward to help him, but just then someone blocked my way.

“Step back.”

It was a man with skin as white as his snow-like hair.

Though his eyes seemed gentle, the way he looked at me was sharp, almost like barbs.

Judging from the sword at his side, he seemed to be a knight, but I had never seen him before at the duke’s estate.

Could it be… he thinks I harmed the duke?

All I did was bring some tea that’s supposed to be good for sleep!

I was frustrated, but my lips felt sealed—I couldn’t utter a word.

As I instinctively stepped back, shocked at the sight of blood staining the duke’s hand, the white-haired man calmly examined his condition.

“Kyle, fetch the physician.”

Supporting the endlessly bleeding duke, the man called for Kyle.

“Your Grace! Did you take the sleeping draught again? I’ll summon the physician at once—please, move him to his chamber.”

Kyle’s expression hardened at the sight of the duke’s condition. He quickly turned to run, perhaps to fetch the doctor.

But the white-haired man grabbed Kyle’s shoulder, stopping him.

“Sir Suu, why—?”

“Fanny.”

“Why are you asking for Fanny? Do you have some order for her…?”

At Kyle’s question, the man looked back at me.

More precisely, at my feet.

Because of the sudden shock of the duke’s blood, I hadn’t noticed until then—the shards of the broken teacup were scattered all around me.

So, he didn’t tell me to back away because he suspected me… but because he was worried I might cut myself on the glass?

As I carefully avoided the shards and looked up, the white-haired man was already gone—along with the duke.

“Oh my, my lady, are you hurt anywhere?”

Kyle came rushing toward me, worried as I stood among the sharp pieces.

“I’m fine. But what about the duke?”

“This happens from time to time. His Grace takes very strong sleeping draughts to force himself to sleep.”

“He coughs up blood because of sleeping pills?”

Now that I thought of it—the duke had said yesterday that he fell asleep after taking some.

What kind of medicine makes a man cough blood like that?

“Yes. Excuse me, my lady, but first I must call the physician. Please don’t be alarmed.”

Kyle pressed his hands together anxiously, watching my dazed state.

Don’t be alarmed?

As I blinked in confusion, flames suddenly flared in Kyle’s hands—red fire that made wolf ears sprout from his head.

“Kyle—! You’ve grown ears on your head!”

“I’ll explain about myself once I send the messenger bird. Firebird, summon the physician to the duke’s estate.”

He blew the flame from his palm, and it turned into a fiery bird, flying out the window.

“You… you’re a magician like the duke?”

“I can use magic, but I’m no mage. As you can see, I’m half wolf.”

Kyle swished a plump red tail to match his ears.

Kyle’s a wolf?

I had heard rumors that beastfolk existed in the Empire, but I had never actually seen one.

It was said they usually lived in packs, but when among humans they were treated little better than animals. Often abused, treated like toys.

To me, every life was precious—I couldn’t understand how others could mistreat them.

“Do I… disappoint you, my lady?”

Kyle’s shoulders slumped as he watched me carefully, clearly afraid I’d think of him like most people did.

“Disappoint me? Not at all. Even if you’re a wolf, you’re still the capable man who’s earned the Duke of Casiar’s trust.”

I wanted to reassure him. To encourage him to value himself more.

“That you accept me as I am… my lady, you are truly a kind soul. I, Kyle, swear to serve you with my life until the day I die.”

I had only spoken honestly, yet Kyle’s eyes shone with tears.

“You don’t need to stake your life on me. Your life is precious too. Just keep doing your duties as faithfully as you have—that’s more than enough.”

“Are you an angel descended from heaven, my lady?”

The sincerity in Kyle’s eyes told me it was no empty flattery.

“Unfortunately, I’m just an ordinary human. But… can you tell me why the duke coughs blood like that?”

Flustered, I quickly changed the subject. Kyle nodded without suspicion.

“His Grace’s health worsened because he’s been abusing a very strong sleeping draught. Unlike normal medicine, it’s poisonous. Taken often, it damages the heart, and in worse cases, it can be fatal.”

“Why would he endure such pain just to sleep?”

Anyone can go without sleep for a day. And now that I’m here, he could even rely on my power if needed.

I couldn’t understand why he was harming himself just to force sleep.

“Perhaps because His Grace doesn’t want anyone in this estate to be endangered because of him.”

Does he fear losing control? But surely he could endure at least a day.

In the original story, when he finally lost control, he had lasted three whole days.

There was no need for such self-destruction.

“His Grace lives with the fear that he may lose his loved ones again for the same reason.”

Again. Did that mean… he had already lost someone dear to his rampage?

Come to think of it, the novel had mentioned only that his insomnia worsened and led to rampages—it never detailed his first time, or what had happened in the past.

Whom had he lost, to make him choose death over sleepless nights?

“It’s a well-known story, so you may already know, my lady…”

Kyle’s expression darkened heavily.

‘From his condition, it seems His Grace takes the sleeping draught multiple times a day, even though once a week would already strain his heart. The poison has spread to his heart. If not for his powerful mana protecting it, he would not still be alive.’

The physician’s grim diagnosis rang in my ears.

To say he was alive only thanks to his mana… how much pain had this man endured alone?

I stayed behind in the duke’s chambers after the physician left.

From time to time, his brows furrowed, as if the poison in his heart still tormented him.

Kyle’s words about his past returned to me.

‘In that first rampage, His Grace lost the parents he loved dearly.’

They had raised him with nothing but affection. Even when he suffered insomnia, they stayed by his side, reading him stories and singing him lullabies.

But the illness of his young body, combined with sleeplessness, triggered his first rampage. His parents tried desperately to suppress his power, but in the end, they perished.

In despair, he even tried to end his own life, but the estate’s remaining servants restrained and comforted him until, slowly, he returned to living.

It had taken years.

Hearing his story, I understood him more deeply than anyone.

To him, the people of this estate mattered more than himself. For their safety, he endured even deathly pain.

Was that why, in the novel, he had clung so desperately to Milter?

In my previous life, I had been the same.

‘Juhye, not once—not for a single moment—did I regret bringing you into this world.’

My mother had fallen ill after giving birth to me.

From high school onward, I worked tirelessly to support her. As an adult, I juggled countless jobs, day and night, but her illness only worsened, and hospital debts piled up.

It was agony—but as long as I had hope of saving her, I could endure anything.

In the end, she lost the battle with her disease.

Having poured my life into saving her, her death left me with nothing but emptiness.

I shut myself away, not eating, not washing, only crying day and night. The only comfort I found was in novels—brief escapes from reality.

And this world I was in now was one of those stories.

Perhaps I was brought here not only for Milter’s sake.

“No…!”

The duke twisted in pain, as if trapped in a nightmare.

His suffering overlapped with my own, when I had lost my mother.

I reached out, placing my hand on his brow.

He had suffered long enough—just this once, I wanted him to rest peacefully.

As soon as my hand touched him, his breathing steadied, and he seemed at ease.