Chapter 23

Bright sunlight streamed in through the window. Lying in bed, Olivia gazed blankly at the faces gathered beside her.+

The Duke with a grave expression, Hana on the verge of tears, the ever-stoic butler Sovel, and even an unfamiliar physician with sharp features.+

“…How serious is it?”+

The Duke spoke heavily. Olivia wanted nothing more than to cover her face out of embarrassment.+

It wasn’t that she was truly unwell—just a momentary bout of dizziness.+

Probably from crying late into the night. She’d simply failed to rise early as usual, yet Hana panicked and summoned both the Duke and the physician. The moment he entered, the Duke cut off Olivia before she could utter a word.+

The physician studied her as if examining a patient, then declared clearly,+

“It’s a rather severe case of the flu.”+

“That can’t be.”+

Olivia tried to deny it outright but ended up coughing instead. A scratchy pain flared inside her throat. Her head throbbed and her limbs felt heavy today, but the flu?+

She’d always been told she was healthy since childhood. Even when living with her mother, she’d never fallen ill—so why now, fully grown?+

Olivia swallowed the soreness in her throat and spoke.+

“I’ve always been told I’m quite healthy.”+

At her hoarse voice, the Duke furrowed his brow. The physician pushed up his glasses and replied,+

“My lady—no, miss—you are indeed in good health. Precisely because you’re so healthy, the flu manifests this strongly.”+

“What’s the quickest way to recover?”+

“Plenty of rest, a balanced diet, and taking your medicine on schedule—that’s all you need.”+

“Plenty of rest and a balanced diet…”+

The Duke murmured softly, gazing at Olivia. She spoke defensively,+

“I’ve been resting plenty already.”+

“As a physician, I must say that doesn’t quite seem to be the case, miss.”+

The physician interjected sharply. The Duke’s eyes darkened ominously.+

“…We’ll need to take even better care of your rest and meals from now on.”+

But they were already taking good care of her—how could they possibly do more?+

Flustered, Olivia instinctively pulled the blanket over her head, feigning illness. Beyond the blanket, the Duke’s voice rang clearly.+

“…Sovel. Tell Head Chef Masa to prepare a more nutritious menu.”+

“Yes.”+

“Hana, remove anything that might disturb the young lady’s rest.”+

“Y-yes…”+

Unlike Sovel’s curt reply, Hana’s voice trembled with tears. Olivia wanted to tell her not to cry, but couldn’t bring herself to lower the blanket.+

“The soup and medicine are ready—shall I bring them in now?”+

It was Sovel’s voice. Even while dizzy, Olivia strained to listen beyond the blanket. There was no reply from the Duke—only the sound of the door opening and closing.+

Had they all left?+

Her breath already felt stiflingly hot under the blanket. Olivia carefully lowered it. Her peeking face met the Duke’s right in front of her.+

Ah! Olivia held her breath. The Duke wore a displeased expression.+

“Why that startled look—no, don’t speak. Your throat hurts.”+

Still wide-eyed, Olivia nodded, then winced as her head pounded.+

“Your head hurts too. Don’t speak, and don’t even nod.”+

“…Then what should I do?”+

“I told you not to talk. You never listen.”+

At Olivia’s deeply sullen tone, the Duke shook his head, then sternly added,+

“Plenty of rest and a balanced diet. I’ll make sure those two things alone overwhelm you.”+

His voice sounded oddly petulant. Just as Olivia sensed something ominous, the door opened again before she could ask.+

“I’ve brought the soup and medicine.”+

It was Sovel. Olivia sighed in relief.+

.+

.+

.+

“Oh, no.”+

Scratch that sigh of relief.+

Olivia looked at the spoon hovering before her lips and glared resentfully at the Duke.+

Moments earlier, the Duke had propped her up against the headboard and even adjusted her pillow. Now he tilted his head in confusion.+

“Is it too hot?”+

What an audacious man!+

Yet the soup smelled wonderful. Though she’d felt no appetite, the aroma made her stomach growl.+

“The temperature seems fine now. Would you like to try some?”+

“…Please. I can feed myself.”+

“I told you not to talk. Your throat hurts.”+

Olivia pressed her lips together in protest. She’d have felt more at ease if Hana had come instead. Hana, with her puffy, tear-streaked eyes, had ultimately been sent away for disturbing the patient’s rest.+

But that didn’t mean she could possibly accept being fed soup by the Duke—it was far too embarrassing.+

When Olivia continued to resist, the Duke sighed quietly. Though slightly apologetic, he wouldn’t back down. Olivia clutched the blanket tightly, as if declaring her firm resolve.+

“If you keep refusing to eat…”+

“…”+

“…I’ll feed you myself from now on.”+

At that ultimatum, Olivia’s eyes widened. Her fever-flushed face looked pitifully adorable. Yet the Duke maintained a stern expression, hiding his smile.+

After a long hesitation, Olivia finally closed her eyes tightly and took the soup.+

Once, then again.+

The properly cooled soup tasted delicious. The Duke kept bringing the spoon smoothly to her lips to make it easier.+

At first it felt awkward and embarrassing, but since the Duke acted so naturally, it soon seemed like no big deal.+

“I’m full.”+

Olivia spoke softly. The Duke glanced between the remaining soup and Olivia.+

Would he insist she eat more?+

But for Olivia, who usually ate little, she truly was full. While she pondered what else to say, the Duke pushed the bowl aside.+

“Then I suppose you’re done eating. Shall we take your medicine?”+

The Duke smiled cheerfully as he brought over a small plate holding the medicine. When Essela had been ill, she’d taken a bitter liquid, but this was a round pill.+

“You can take it without water.”+

At the Duke’s words, Olivia carefully picked up the pill and swallowed it. She’d expected bitterness, but after an initial sharp taste, a strong sweetness bloomed.+

“How is it? Does it suit your taste?”+

“Yes. It’s sweet.”+

“I asked them to mix in some honey. I’m glad it worked out.”+

The Duke smiled faintly.+

Honey… Come to think of it, she hadn’t eaten anything sweet in ages—not since Leopold mentioned she seemed to be gaining weight.+

A sudden thought made Olivia murmur slowly,+

“…Sweet things make you gain weight.”+

The Duke’s face stiffened. At that moment, Olivia, blinking slowly, gave a faint smile.+

“…But I’m glad it’s not bitter. Truly.”+

“…I’m relieved.”+

“But I’m feeling a bit sleepy now.”+

Olivia blinked. Each time she did, her thick lashes fluttered like butterfly wings. Watching her face grow increasingly drowsy, the Duke gently readjusted her blanket.+

“It’s probably the medicine. Get some sleep.”+

Her posture grew comfortable. Through her blurring vision, she saw the Duke. Strangely, her heart felt at ease. So this was how it felt to have someone by your side when you’re unwell—she’d never known, having never been sick before.+

It felt secure, warm, and tender enough to bring tears to her eyes.+

Sleep rushed over her in an instant. Just before fully closing her eyes, Olivia murmured one newly remembered fact to herself.+

Ah, now that she thought about it, she had been sick once—just once.+

Perhaps because she’d thought of it before sleeping, that day appeared in her dream. A winter over ten years ago, when she was eight.+

Looking back, she’d felt unwell since morning that day. But it was right after Jade began hating her, so the atmosphere at home had been tense and frightening.+

In that situation, all Olivia could do was study. She’d pushed through her aching body to study, and by nightfall, she’d fallen truly ill.+

In a room without even firewood, she’d pulled the blanket over her head and blown warm breath into her hands. The trapped breath hit her face, feeling scalding hot. Amid her feverish haze, she thought she’d heard the sound of a door opening.+

Someone had come in—was this just her dream conjuring an image, or had it really happened?+

She probably woke up back then and wondered the same thing.+

Olivia gently opened her eyes. Someone blurry stood before her—it was the Duke. His softly smiling face seemed to say, “Go back to sleep.”+

Of course.+

Olivia smiled slightly. She thought she’d been worrying over nothing.+

After all, no one would have come in back then—it was obvious.+

Just like always, her family—+

No, they—+

Had never cared about her at all.+

.+

.+

.+

Only after Olivia fell into a deep sleep did the Duke leave the room. Closing the door soundlessly, he found Physician Brandon bowing outside.+

“How is the young lady’s condition now?”+

“Lacking sleep, lacking nutrition—lacking everything, really. Ah, and she seems dehydrated too.”+

Brandon clicked his tongue, recalling Olivia’s face. Even though she’d wiped her tears clean, her reddened eyes unmistakably showed she’d been crying. Olivia Madelaine, famed in high society for her sharpness, had such a pure, gentle face.+

Lost in thought, Brandon suddenly flinched. A dark, ominous aura rose around the Duke.+

Ah! He remembered the advice from his close friend, the knight Winstor:+

“If it’s not terribly bad, sugarcoat it a bit when reporting. Otherwise, you’ll see the end of darkness.”+

He hadn’t understood those words then—but now he knew for certain just how deeply the Duke cherished the young lady in that room.+

Better speak clearly instead of vaguely!+

Sweat beaded on Brandon’s back as he hurriedly added,+

“B-but as the young lady herself said, she’s naturally healthy. With sufficient rest and proper meals, she should recover quickly without complications.”+

“She was fine when she arrived at the estate—why did she suddenly fall ill?”+

“Her body seemed quite tense. Unless there’s a specific cause, it’s likely accumulated stress finally catching up—or perhaps her tension simply eased.”+

At Brandon’s answer, the Duke let out a low, frustrated sound, then stared at the door with even deeper intensity.+

Whether it was released tension or bottled-up stress, both thoughts were equally painful.+

What on earth had that small body endured so much of?+

And yet she’d gone on pretending to be the capable ‘Rive Green,’ worrying about others. The thought made his chest ache.+

If only Bethany, the housekeeper in Bicander territory, were here—she could fatten Olivia up healthily in no time.+

The Duke’s mind raced. To reach his duchy without incident, he needed to clarify their marital status immediately.+

“…I must meet the Emperor soon.”+

His voice, ground out through clenched teeth, sounded ominous. Brandon, accustomed to this, rubbed away the chill bumps rising on his arms.+

Madelaine Ducal Residence.+

Sunlight poured onto the balcony. Essela, who hadn’t slept a wink, stared only at her pink diamond necklace. The gem glittered brilliantly in the sunlight.+

“Every time, my lady always thought of you, Miss Essela. Truly.”+

The tearful voice of her maid Sally echoed in Essela’s ears. Essela bit her lip.+

It had already been several days since she received the boutique clothes her older sister sent. All this time, Essela had kept thinking of her sister.+

Her sister, who pretended to be aloof. Who avoided her. Who never smiled at her.+

Yet the sister who always looked after her—that sincerity, Essela knew better than anyone.+

All of Olivia’s moments overlapped in Essela’s mind, throwing her into confusion. Tears welled again over her lifeless violet eyes.+

“…Why didn’t you just stay and talk to me?”+

Essela’s whisper trembled.+

No—her sister had tried to speak. Essela herself had pressed forward before her sister could get a word out. Her own words kept replaying in her mind, filling her with guilt.+

She couldn’t even recall what expression her sister had worn then.+

Yet all Essela could offer Olivia now was childish resentment.+

Thick tears rolled down her cheeks, drop by drop. On the blanket, they left perfect, damp circles. In her mind, only memories of her sister’s kindness remained.+

The further back she traced her memories, the kinder her sister had been—holding her hand, playing with her, even sneaking in to nurse her when she was ill.+

…Then why had her sister suddenly grown cold toward her at some point?+

At the sudden question, Essela shook her head. What did it matter? Her mother had died because of her sister.+

Essela shook her head again, trying to stop thinking about Olivia. But once started, the thoughts wouldn’t leave her mind.+

Maybe some fresh air would help. Just as Essela reached the balcony and opened the window—+

“What? The eldest young lady?”+

Essela’s ears perked up instantly. An unknown voice, sounding startled, grew loud.+

“Shh! Quiet! If Miss Essela hears you, you’ll be thrown out immediately!”+

“She hasn’t even opened her window lately, let alone her door. But is it true? Did the eldest young lady receive a marriage proposal from His Grace the Duke?”+

Essela instinctively covered her mouth with her palm—otherwise, a scream of shock might have burst out.+

What was going on?+

“That’s not it.”+

Another voice spoke bluntly.+

“His Grace petitioned His Majesty the Emperor, didn’t he? Asking permission to marry the eldest young lady.”+

“What nonsense is this!”+

Essela shrieked shrilly. A gasp of shock echoed from downstairs.+

“Come up here at once!”+

This was absurd—it had to be a lie.+

Her sister—her sister truly loved His Highness the Crown Prince.+

“I-it’s all in the newspaper, miss. Please forgive me.”+

Essela clutched the crumpled paper with trembling hands. The maids’ words were true. The Duke had petitioned the Emperor to marry her sister.+

How could a war hero act so cowardly, trying to tear lovers apart!+

Instantly, rumors about Duke Bicander flooded her mind—the Butcher, the Monster of the Battlefield. Not a single positive word existed about him.+

Fury choked her breath. Tears threatened to spill again from sheer injustice.+

The Crown Prince and her sister were such a wonderful couple. Essela knew better than anyone just how deeply her sister loved the Crown Prince.+

No matter how strained their current relationship, this was unacceptable. She had to find out where her sister was and bring her back immediately.+

Gathering her shaking hands, Essela stepped out of her room. The servants’ eyes widened as the youngest young lady—who’d locked herself in for days—emerged.+

“Miss!”+

“Where’s Father? Or… Brother Conrad?”+

“Both are in the dining room.”+

At Essela’s urgent tone, the maid hastily replied. Essela rushed toward the dining room. Her legs trembled, but delivering the news to her father came first.+

Father would surely rescue her sister from the Duke’s grasp. Just then, a maid opened the dining room door as Essela ran toward it.+

“We can’t possibly push Essela into the Crown Princess position in Olivia’s place, can we?”