Chapter 40
The Prince Died, So We’re Starting Over!
Even after I collapsed, he continued to “check in” at my room every single morning.
The strange thing was, I had no idea what he actually did when he came.
Unlike Count and Countess Lurupel, he never tried to talk to me or accept the tea Anna offered.
That young duke would just appear out of nowhere, stay silently for a while, and then disappear without a word.
And yet, oddly enough, every time after he left, I always felt lighter—like my body had been cleansed somehow.
Then there was Harriella’s older brother. He visited my room maybe two or three times.
By my bedside, Anna had placed a small stool for him, and whenever he came, he would simply sit there reading or studying.
Why he had to come all the way to my room to read instead of doing it in his own, I still couldn’t fathom.
And lastly, there was the Third Prince.
He hadn’t visited once.
Because, as it turned out, he’d been sick two days longer than I was.
“…Doesn’t that make absolutely no sense?”
I turned to Anna, pleading for agreement.
“What doesn’t?”
Anna, who was neatly tying up my hair, tilted her head.
“I mean, if he fell ill before me, shouldn’t he have gotten better before me too? Isn’t that just ridiculously frail?”
“Oh goodness, are we talking about the Third Prince again?”
Anna’s tone was dry—she clearly didn’t want to hear it.
But I couldn’t hold my tongue.
“No, think about it, Anna! When you catch a cold, once you pass it to someone else, you usually get better, right? Doesn’t this seem weird to you?”
“What’s weird about that… Wait. Don’t tell me you slept in His Highness’s room on purpose just to catch his illness?”
Anna froze mid-stroke, the brush trembling slightly in her hand.
If I answered wrong, I might get smacked with that brush.
“Absolutely not.”
“…Really?”
“Of course. I value my health, you know.”
“Well, that’s the nicest thing I’ve heard all day—though I still don’t believe it.”
Anna muttered as she resumed brushing.
“…Hmm. Maybe it wasn’t a cold but a fever? Still, being sick for over a week isn’t normal…”
By now, Anna wasn’t even pretending to listen. She was clearly sulking.
Lately, Anna had grown rather hostile toward the Third Prince.
She believed both of my collapses were entirely his fault.
Even though it was definitely my own mistake.
“Don’t be like that, Anna.”
“…Like what?”
“Don’t hate His Highness so much. He’s all alone in a foreign land. Imagine how awful it must feel if everyone dislikes him.”
“I don’t hate him.”
Anna pouted like a child, lips sticking out.
But I could tell—her eyes had started looking at him with unmistakable disdain.
“There’s no proof that I caught his illness, anyway.”
“But the healer said it was very likely.”
“Even if that’s true, it’s not like he gave it to me on purpose. I climbed into his bed of my own accord. My fault, fair and square.”
“But that’s because you were exhausted from nursing him!”
“No, I was sleepy.”
“Don’t lie! Who’d believe that?”
But it was the truth…
Even though I swore I was being honest, Anna clearly didn’t believe me.
Her eyes said it all—My lady would never do such a thing.
Ah, yes. She’d finally caught the Lurupel family disease: “Our child is perfect—it’s their friends who are the problem.”
In this case, it was more like “Our lady was healthy—until she got engaged to the wrong man.”
“His Highness is kind… thoughtful…”
“Hmph! My lady’s even kinder and more thoughtful!”
“And sweet…”
“To me, my lady is the sweetest person in the world!”
“He even gave me flowers.”
“I could pick flowers from the garden for you anytime!”
“Come on, it’s not the same if I ask for them. It’s the thought that counts.”
Anna looked absolutely shocked—like a father who just heard his daughter say she likes her boyfriend more than him.
Not that I’d ever said that to Count Lurupel, but still.
Anyway, she looked deeply betrayed.
“You’re so unfair! You always take His Highness’s side!”
“Oh, come on, when have I ever done that? You know I’d always take your side—even if the sky fell down.”
“Then can I throw away that ugly pansy he gave you?”
“Of course not.”
Anna glared at me with puffed cheeks and sparkly eyes full of accusation.
Hahaha…
I gave her a nervous laugh and looked away.
Thankfully, before Anna could launch her second wave of scolding, someone knocked on the door.
“Oh! Sir Peter’s here!”
I ran to the door and flung it open.
Sir Peter greeted me with a slightly awkward smile. I’d never been so glad to see his humble face.
“I’ll be going now, Anna!”
I grabbed his hand and pulled him out quickly.
He gave me a faintly sad look—as if he’d been hoping to exchange greetings with Anna.
“Hehe.”
I gave a guilty little laugh.
He probably thought I was just an oblivious, carefree eight-year-old.
Sorry, Sir Peter. I really had no choice just now.
As if reading my mind, he sighed quietly.
We stopped in front of the carriage waiting in the palace courtyard.
It bore the imperial crest, though it was a rather modest one—used when members of the royal family visited temples.
‘Come to think of it, this’ll be my first time going to the temple.’
My first task since getting out of bed—
—to accompany the Third Prince to the temple.
It was imperial custom to perform a certain ceremony at the temple before engagements or weddings.
Though, nobody had told me exactly what that ceremony involved.
‘Probably something like a huge donation drive…’
Behind the white carriage were several wagons full of cargo.
Seeing the lavish procession made it hard to think pure thoughts.
“Please, get in, my lady.”
“Alright.”
Sir Peter knocked twice on the carriage door and opened it politely.
Inside sat the Third Prince, who immediately sprang to his feet and offered me his hand.
“Thank you.”
“Not at all.”
I took his hand and climbed aboard.
For a moment, I worried I might be too heavy and send the frail prince tumbling out—but thankfully, he held firm.
“It’s been a while.”
“Yes, it has.”
“Lovely weather today, isn’t it?”
“It is. The sunlight’s beautiful.”
We exchanged polite small talk as we sat down.
The door shut, and the coachman urged the horses forward.
Through the window, I saw dust rise and the palace gardens slowly fade into the distance.
“…I heard you were unwell. Are you better now?”
As soon as we left the grounds, the hesitant prince finally spoke.
“Yes, thanks to you. And you, Your Highness?”
“I’m well now too.”
“You’ve lost weight.”
“So have you, Lady Lurupel.”
He gave me a worried look. I couldn’t tell who was supposed to be worrying about whom.
Thanks to Anna and the entire Lurupel household, I’d been eating five meals a day.
Far from losing weight, my skin was practically glowing.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t visit while you were sick.”
Just as I was wondering if I should start sending him five meals a day too, he suddenly apologized.
His voice sounded heavy and forlorn.
But I couldn’t quite understand why.
“Huh? What kind of patient visits another patient’s sickbed?”
I tilted my head, but his slumped shoulders didn’t lift.
He’d never been the most confident person, but today he looked especially dejected.
He must have overheard the gossip.
According to Anna, there’d been a strange tension around the Rudbekia Palace lately.
The palace staff had split into two groups:
One consisted of people from the Lurupel estate, and the other from the royal Asphodel household.
There’d always been some rivalry between them, but it worsened after I fell ill.
Naturally, Lurupel’s people blamed the Third Prince for making their precious young lady sick.
Though honestly, I suspected their real resentment came from how he’d ordered the engagement ceremony to be prepared within only three weeks.
Meanwhile, the servants sent from the capital grumbled about Lurupel’s arrogance.
Even after the engagement, my family refused to return home and behaved as though they were the masters of the palace.
You could imagine how haughty they must have seemed.
And Count Lurupel, as usual, was no help at all in calming the conflict—
—in fact, he only made it worse by blatantly taking sides.
In the end, it was always the delicate, sensitive children caught between the adults’ feuds who got hurt the most.
