101-77

Chapter 77

Gradually, dawn broke, and a pale blue light, like diluted watercolor, seeped through the curtains.

Lucia gazed blankly around the room. Then, with a deep sigh, she buried her face between her knees.

“It was a dream…”

She had dreamed of the past so vividly that, for a moment, she thought it was reality.

“No… maybe it was a little different…”

In the dream, she hadn’t confessed to Herwin. By not confessing, she had hoped that her younger self wouldn’t have to endure thirteen years of lonely and exhausting future.

But there was one more variable.

“Could this also be my wishful thinking?”

Herwin had confessed— and not to anyone else, but to her.

She couldn’t tell whether it was because she had received his confession yesterday or because her deepest desire had manifested in her dream. All she knew was that realizing it was only a dream left her with a tangled heart.

“I guess I still haven’t gotten over Herwin…”

Lucia told herself that her unconscious had simply reflected itself in her dream. That was why the dream contradicted the past. The relief she had felt by not confessing collided with the exhilaration of receiving Herwin’s confession.

It was the first time she had felt superior to Herwin.

And the pleasure she had felt in that moment stirred a deep, repulsive guilt.

“This is the worst. Lucia Agnes.”

She scolded herself. Yet her heart thumped uncontrollably. Even if it was only a dream, Herwin’s confession had an involuntary effect on her.

Brushing her dry face, Lucia checked the time.

It was early—6 a.m.—and she was fully awake. She stumbled toward the bathroom. Washing her face with cold water helped calm the flushed emotions a little.

“Don’t dwell too much on a dream.”

Yes, a dream is just a dream. The past does not change.

“Why did you have to confess to me yesterday and confuse me so much?”

She unfairly directed her irritation at Herwin, but the heavier her resentment grew, the heavier her own heart felt.

Lucia began recalling yesterday’s events.

‘I love you, Lucia.’

The sweetness of his gaze, nearly melting with warmth, his tender voice, and the breath that had brushed her hand were all still vivid.

Her face heated up again.

While splashing her face with cold water, Lucia tried to erase Herwin from her mind, but then she noticed something.

“Now that I think about it… he seemed a little different than usual.”

Yesterday, Herwin had looked quite unwell.

“He seemed thinner, had dark circles, and his eyes were slightly bloodshot, right?”

Seeing him so frail at a glance had made her worry, but the sudden confession had startled her, and she had forgotten to think about it. The more she recalled yesterday, the more regret she felt for not paying closer attention to Herwin’s condition.

“Maybe I should write him a letter.”

She wanted to meet him directly and check his condition, but visiting the house of an unmarried man while being engaged herself would have been inappropriate.

“His body was so hot too! What if he was really sick?”

Any thoughts of erasing him from her mind vanished as Lucia wandered around the room, her concern for him growing.

“Ugh…”

“Master, are you awake?”

Through her blurry vision, Herwin could see Jerome.

When he tried to sit up, his body felt as heavy as if weighed down with lead.

“Ugh…”

“Don’t get up. Your fever hasn’t gone down yet.”

“Fever…?”

“Yes. You collapsed as soon as you arrived at the mansion last night. Don’t you remember?”

It seemed familiar, yet distant. He couldn’t recall properly how he had made it back to the mansion.

Pressing his throbbing head, he wondered if Jerome was right—that he indeed had a fever. His head felt as if it would split.

“Fever…”

“Do you know how shocked madam was? She’s never seen you so sick, so she was very worried.”

Herwin suddenly remembered Scarlet and looked at Jerome.

“Oh, mother was here, right? Where is she now?”

“She’s having her meal. She’ll be here soon.”

“Alright…”

Relaxing a little, Herwin lazily sank into the bed. He had rarely felt this sick in his life, so his body felt unusually heavy.

Being unable to move, his mind wandered.

‘Come to think of it…’

It felt like he had seen the past in a dream. Although the events had flowed slightly differently than before.

Like Lucia in the dream yesterday, his younger self had desperately confessed his feelings when young Lucia had tried to leave him.

‘What happened after that?’

He couldn’t remember if Lucia had answered. Only the image of her walking away from him remained vivid.

Clutching his chest in pain, Herwin squeezed his eyes shut.

‘This is punishment.’

He had rarely fallen ill, so being this sick must be divine punishment for hurting Lucia.

‘Was Lucia as miserable as I am?’

If he, who had only recently realized his feelings, was in such agony, how had Lucia endured this suffering for over ten years? How had she loved him while bearing this pain?

Seeing things from Lucia’s perspective made him feel both awe and guilt, as though he had to spend his life apologizing.

“Master, can you eat something?”

Jerome, still by his side, asked.

“No, I have no appetite.”

“But you haven’t had a proper meal for several days. You went straight out yesterday too.”

“My body isn’t well.”

“Still…”

Hearing such a weak voice, Jerome, convinced Herwin was seriously ill, stamped his feet.

“You need to eat, especially when you’re sick.”

At that moment, Scarlet’s voice rang out. She had been standing by the door and gradually approached Herwin.

“I had the chef prepare this especially for you.”

“Ma… madam, without ordering me to…”

Scarlet presented a bowl of gruel. Jerome, flustered, took the tray from her hands.

“Let’s see… has your fever gone down?”

Scarlet lifted the blanket and placed her hand on Herwin’s forehead to check his temperature.

“You’re still not as well as yesterday, but better.”

“I’m fine.”

“Fine? Your voice is still hoarse. Sit up and eat this first. Then the medicine will work, and you’ll get better.”

Herwin muttered like a child but eventually sat and began eating.

Watching him pick at the gruel, Scarlet gestured to Jerome to leave, leaving her alone with Herwin.

Herwin looked at her.

“Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

“…Is there something you want to hear?”

“I heard you went to the Agnes household yesterday.”

Scarlet stopped probing, sensing that Herwin wouldn’t speak first.

“You seemed to be meeting Lucia, is that right?”

“…Yes.”

“Between the news of her engagement, Henry’s letter, and your actions yesterday… seems like something happened with Lucia.”

Herwin stayed silent, lips pressed tight.

Scarlet sighed, having expected his reaction.

“If you won’t tell me, I have to come to my own conclusions. Will you still remain silent?”

Herwin turned away completely, making Scarlet frown.

“The carriage driver said you were kicked out of the Agnes mansion. Even if you are on good terms with them, I can’t just let them leave you outside for hours. I intend to protest to the Agneses today.”

Herwin suddenly lifted his head and spoke urgently.

“Please… don’t!”

“You only look at me this way when I go this far.”

Seeing Scarlet cross her arms with a stern expression, Herwin clenched his fists.

“I… I was the one who wronged Lucia first. Please forgive me.”

“What could you have done to make them kick you out?”

Herwin hesitated. No matter what had happened with Lucia, he couldn’t tell Scarlet everything. Yet he couldn’t let the blame fall on the Agnes family.

“I can’t go into details. But my actions hurt Lucia. And yesterday… I just went to her in a rush because I had something urgent to tell her.”

Scarlet silently looked down at him.

Before receiving Henry’s letter and arriving in the capital, she had thought Herwin merely hid his emotions. So she intentionally mentioned Lucia, urging him to recognize her as his fiancée.

But her son, whom she met again, was shattered, overwhelmed by love. Whether Henry’s letter was false or Herwin’s feelings had changed, she couldn’t tell.

But she couldn’t just leave him suffering as if he were dying.

“Alright. Since you’ve explained this much, I have nothing more to say. But one thing—do you like Lucia?”

Even without an answer, Scarlet knew. The fire in his fading red eyes revealed it.

“I’m glad you seem to have found the answer to what I said before.”

She recalled what she had told him when he went north:

‘Lucia will eventually be engaged and married. If you can accept her leaving with someone else calmly, you are a true friend. If not, think carefully.’

Herwin could have found the answer easily without going far, yet he had ignored it. Back then, he had arrogantly assumed Lucia would always be by his side.

His mouth tasted bitter. If he had realized his feelings back then, would Lucia have stayed?

As Herwin’s expression darkened again, Scarlet removed his bowl and handed him medicine.

“The doctor said you should rest. Take this medicine and get some sleep.”

Herwin rolled the medicine in his hand but obediently took it, lying down.

“If your fever rises or your head hurts, you must call someone. Understand?”

“Where are you going?”

Her tone implied she wouldn’t be home.

“I came to the capital, so I need to meet people I couldn’t see for a while.”

“You’re not going to cause trouble at the Agnes mansion, right?”

Scarlet, squeezing a wet towel, paused and looked at him. After a moment, she smiled and placed the towel on his forehead.

“You’ve been so silent that I had to say it. Don’t worry, nothing like that will happen.”

“That’s a relief.”

Finally trusting her, Herwin let the medicine take effect.

Soon, he fell into a deep, peaceful sleep.

Scarlet closed the curtains tightly so he could rest and left the room.

Jerome was waiting in the hallway.

“Take good care of Herwin while I’m gone.”

“Yes, madam. Where are you going?”

“To the Agnes household.”

Scarlet erased the gentle smile she had shown Herwin and wore a cold expression.