Episode 9
Before dinner, the royal physician had mentioned he’d be stopping by again, so I assumed it was him at the door—but it wasn’t.
“Y-Your Highness, the Crown Prince.”
Nancy, who had been holding a damp cloth, quickly bowed deeply.
‘What?! His Highness is here?’
I opened my eyes and struggled to sit up.
Crown Prince Jereon appeared slightly disheveled, as if he had rushed over, and he wasn’t wearing his usual white uniform but a more casual outfit suitable for going out.
“Shanael! What happened? I heard you collapsed last night!”
“Your Highness, cough…”
“Don’t strain yourself. Stay lying down.”
I tried to sit up but collapsed back onto the bed with a thump. Just lifting my upper body made the ceiling spin.
“How is she?”
Jereon wasn’t asking me, but Nancy, who quickly relayed that I had been coughing severely through the night and had undergone another examination that morning.
“I see…”
I forced my eyes open and looked at Jereon. He gazed down at me slowly, then suddenly turned his head away with a sharp motion.
‘What was that? Is he disgusted by how I look right now?’
As I broke into another coughing fit, Nancy, who had been fixated on the Crown Prince, rushed over and pulled the blanket up to my neck.
Only then did I realize the state I was in—dressed in a loose chemise, with skin likely showing through the fabric.
My face burned, not from the fever but from embarrassment. Jereon, still facing the wall, spoke again.
“Ahem, I was informed your condition has worsened.”
“Please don’t worry…”
“How can I not? The physician said he’s unsure when you’ll recover.”
I felt a small twinge of emotion, touched that he cared as my superior. So I mustered my strength to offer a reassuring smile.
“Your Highness, cough, it’s just a cold. I’ll be fine. cough…”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“…Pardon?”
“I’m talking about the manuscript.”
“M-manuscript? cough…”
“Yes, the manuscript. Since we don’t know when you’ll recover, we’ll have to put The Crown Prince’s Last Love on hold for a while.”
So much for being touched. Turns out his concern wasn’t for me, but for the serial.
He was worried about a delay in the publication.
“And we don’t have a stockpile of chapters, right?”
“I-I’m terribly sorry. As you say, cough, we’ll have to take a break.”
We had only just begun the serialization, and here I was already taking a break—it made me feel incredibly guilty.
Nancy, who had been quietly listening to our conversation, looked appalled by the Crown Prince’s cold remark. She probably held a romantic image of him from reading the novel, but that illusion was now clearly shattered.
Jereon sighed deeply and sat in a chair by the nearby table. Then, with a wave of his hand, he signaled to the attendants waiting outside the door.
They promptly entered and placed documents and books on the table.
“You may leave.”
With that command, only three people remained in the room: Nancy, the Crown Prince, and me.
Why on earth is he bringing work documents here? Nancy glanced at me, her expression practically begging me to ask what he was doing.
Surely… he doesn’t plan to work here?
But then he picked up a pen and began signing papers. I was so taken aback, a feeble cough escaped me.
“Cough, cough.”
Jereon glanced over.
‘What’s with that look? Am I not allowed to cough in my own room?’
It was bad enough being ill—I didn’t need this added discomfort. Covering my mouth with a handkerchief, I asked as gently as I could:
“Your Highness, cough… if I may ask, are you planning to work here?”
He didn’t even look up from his documents.
“So what if I am?”
“I just… cough… thought it might be uncomfortable for you.”
“Not at all.”
Not at all? You keep giving me looks every time I cough!
I couldn’t understand why he’d choose to do official work at the bedside of a sick person. Both Nancy and I were on edge. It felt like being punished just for falling ill. His constant glances whenever I coughed made me suppress it as much as possible.
But as the saying goes, holding in coughs only makes it worse.
“Cough, cough, cough—!”
“Lady Shanael, have some warm water.”
Nancy offered a cup, and as I removed the handkerchief from my mouth to drink, she gasped in shock.
“Oh no! Lady Shanael—there’s blood!”
Blood?
I pulled the cup away and looked at the handkerchief—sure enough, specks of bright red stained the white fabric.
Startled, I blurted, “Oh no! I-is that really blood?”
Jereon shot up from his chair so forcefully that it toppled over and rushed to my side.
“Let me see—where is it coming from?!”
He seized the handkerchief and, upon confirming the blood, bellowed so loudly the entire palace wing must have heard:
“Someone fetch the royal physician—immediately! Hurry!”
Outside, the attendants moved with military precision. Nancy panicked and flitted about, while Jereon removed the bloodied handkerchief and handed me one from his own pocket.
“Use this instead.”
It was an ornate white handkerchief embroidered with gold thread. I hesitated, feeling awkward about pressing such a luxurious item to my lips.
But Jereon, without missing a beat, pressed it to my mouth himself.
“Until the physician arrives, no talking. Just nod or shake your head.”
“…Yes.”
“Head gestures only.”
Nod nod.
The scent from the handkerchief, likely his, was light and refreshing.
“The air is too dry in here. Bring some hot water.”
Following his instructions, Nancy brought in a bowl of steaming water, which Jereon then approached with a small vial.
He dropped pieces of dried herbs into the bowl. As they met the heat, they unfurled like blooming flowers. The herbal scent spread through the room, easing my breathing.
‘Would’ve been nice to have this earlier.’
Pleased with the change in atmosphere, Jereon pocketed the vial and began to explain proudly.
“This is a rare flower called Millennium Bloom—it only grows in the royal gardens. I usually use it when I’m feeling weak, but I’m letting you use it, just this once.”
I wanted to thank him, but since I was told not to speak, I simply nodded.
“No need to be so moved. Though, in truth, I’ve never used it for anyone else.”
Nod nod.
Smiling in satisfaction, he suddenly clapped his hands.
“That’s it, Shanael—I just had a brilliant idea!”
Moments ago, he couldn’t even look at me due to my outfit. Now, he looked directly into my eyes, brimming with enthusiasm.
“We should put this in the novel. The female lead falls ill, and the male lead prepares this herb in hot water for her—just like I did. Don’t you think it’s romantic?”
Nod nod.
“You do look quite moved.”
Shake ,shake.
“…You’re not touched?”
Shake, shake.
“What do you mean? You’re saying it’s moving, but you’re not happy about it?”
Shake, then nod.
“What’s that supposed to mean—moved, but not because of me?”
Shake ,shake, then nod.
I shook my head so much trying to communicate with nods and gestures that the room started spinning again. I collapsed back into bed.
“Shanael! I told you not to overexert yourself!”
Overexert myself? Who do you think caused that? Someone please remove this Crown Prince. If only his aide, Hasell, were here—I’d signal him to escort Jereon out.
His face spun before my eyes like a kaleidoscope. I coughed into the handkerchief, grimacing, and Jereon—clearly thinking I was at death’s door—screamed again.
“What’s taking the physician so long?! Shanael’s dying!”
“He’s just crossing the drawbridge now, Your Highness!”
“Then drag him here! Are you going to wait until she stops breathing?!”
Even in my dazed state, I could sense his sincerity. It almost moved me… until he added:
“Shanael! You absolutely can’t die—not until you’ve finished The Crown Prince’s Last Love! Stay with me!”
So that’s why he’s been nursing me so diligently.
If I did die, I’m certain this man would dig me out of my grave just to make me write.
When I awoke again, the room was quiet. I had slept soundly through the night without coughing. The early dawn light cast a soft blue glow through the window.
‘I feel much better… so why does something feel off?’
Sometimes, gut instinct is terrifyingly accurate. The atmosphere in the room was different. I slowly sat up and scanned the darkened interior.
Nothing seemed unusual at first. I was about to lie back down—until chills crept up my spine.
‘Wait… what’s that long figure on the sofa?’
When Nancy stayed to nurse me, she looked much smaller curled up on that couch—almost like a doll.
Thinking my eyes were playing tricks, I tried to dismiss it… until a deep male voice muttered:
“Hmm…”
‘What the—why is there a man in my room?!’
It couldn’t be the physician—he wasn’t tall enough to take up the entire sofa. A thief? But if it were, he’d have taken the gem-encrusted sword on the wall and fled, not dozed off on my couch.
I wanted to ignore it, but now I was fully alert.
I decided to quietly leave the room and inform the royal guards stationed nearby. Pulling on a coat, I tiptoed to the door. One of my slippers was missing, so I crept barefoot.
All the while, I kept glancing back at the couch. Whoever was lying there had a presence that felt distinctly wrong.
The room felt far too large tonight, and the door was so far away. At last, I reached for the handle.
Creak—eeeeee—eek.
Oh no! When did the hinges get so loud? The sound echoed in the silence. I paused, then gently pulled the door further open.
Just as I slipped through—
Grab!
“Where do you think you’re going?”
The man from the couch had silently crept up behind me and grabbed my arm. His sudden appearance was so ghost-like, I screamed.
“Kyah! Let go! Cough! I said let—!”
“It’s me.”
“Let go, you thief!”
“I’m not a thief—it’s me, Jereon.”
“And who on earth is that!?”
