DHDF 19

chapter 19

Even after regaining consciousness, I lay there for quite a while, blankly staring up at the ceiling.

It was hard to believe that I had actually fainted.

“It’s not like he even threatened me…”

For a moment, I wondered if Aethe might have struck the back of my neck, but no—that couldn’t be.

I sighed and buried my face in both palms.

I couldn’t stand myself for being so weak-minded.

“…I guess I relaxed too much after securing an escape route.”

But honestly, even if I were to face Aethe again, I doubted I could sit there calmly.

Just thinking about those deep blue eyes of his made my stomach twist.

I’d have to ask the Grand Duke to replace him with someone else.

While I was making up my mind, Rosalyn came in with the family doctor.

“Is there any discomfort anywhere?”

After the examination, the doctor asked kindly.

Embarrassment burned across my face as I stammered, “No. I’m fine.”

“Hmm. I think you’ve been under a lot of stress, adjusting to a new environment. Children are easily affected, you know.”

“Doctor, do I need medicine or anything?”

“Medicine? Ah.”

The doctor laughed heartily, his expression playful.

“Well, it was quite a dramatic first meeting. I don’t think you need a prescription, but I can write one if you’d like.”

How could he even joke about that?

“No, thank you. I don’t want that.”

“That’s a shame. I was going to prescribe something sweet this time. Then let’s just focus on rest for now. I imagine you’ll need some time.”

He was practically stamping me with a “fragile” label, but I nodded anyway.

At least that meant my etiquette lessons would be postponed.

Still, I couldn’t be satisfied with just that.

“Either way, I’ll have to see Aethe again…”

At this rate, I’d shorten my lifespan from stress alone.

In the end, I asked Rosalyn to arrange a meeting with the Grand Duke.

“You were running around full of energy last time,” he said, letting out a dry chuckle as he looked at me, still confined to bed.

Of course, my fainting had been from sheer pressure, not because I was actually ill.

It was only because Rosalyn was so worried that I went along with it quietly.

“My young lady seems quite fickle.”

“…I’m sorry.”

“That’s a banned phrase, young lady.”

“Mm… then I’ll say I’m… ashamed?”

The Grand Duke flicked my forehead lightly.

“Act your age, Berry.”

How was I supposed to do that? I didn’t really understand what he meant, but I just nodded quietly.

“So. I heard you wanted to tell me something.”

“Ah, yes.”

My resolve hadn’t changed, but the words wouldn’t come easily.

In a way, this request was going against the Grand Duke’s own decision.

More importantly, while Aethe Edenvale terrified me, to the Grand Duke he was a son. I realized belatedly that he might take offense—but it couldn’t be helped.

After all, I’d already accepted an engagement I didn’t want.

This much, surely, was a reasonable request.

“If it’s all right… I’d like to change my etiquette tutor.”

The Grand Duke didn’t respond right away. His expression stayed calm, but he was clearly considering it.

The longer the silence dragged on, the more anxious I became.

I had to fight the urge to take it back entirely.

“Why?”

“Pardon?”

“Did Aethe do something unkind?”

I fainted before he could even act unkindly.

Before he could misunderstand and take revenge later, I hurried to deny it.

“No, nothing like that. There’s no special reason. I just… feel a bit uncomfortable, that’s all.”

It was a roundabout way of describing my fear, but it was the best I could do.

If I told him, ‘I’m scared he’ll kill me if I don’t meet his standards,’ he’d probably just dismiss it as nonsense.

“Or think I’m exaggerating.”

Given how well-regarded Aethe was, slandering him would probably do me more harm than good.

“I’d still like to know what makes you feel that way,” he said.

Something about his tone reminded me of an interview.

At the orphanage, whenever the children fought, the director would call them in one by one like this to mediate.

Though, not always. Some kids she just let figure things out themselves—usually the ones who tended to cause trouble.

“Well, I just… feel a distance, I suppose. I don’t think we’ll ever really get close.”

I chose my words as carefully as I could, hoping the Grand Duke would understand.

The effect was minimal.

“I see. I understand. I’ll consider it.”

Which meant, ‘I understand, but I’m not changing anything.’

I tried to hide my disappointment and quickly began thinking of other options.

“The teddy bear seems to suit your taste,” he said, nodding toward my side.

“Did you give it a name?”

“Ah. It’s Delie.”

After much thought, I’d taken the name from Edenvale itself.

The Grand Duke said it suited, and I couldn’t help feeling a little proud.

“I should get going. Sorry I can’t stay longer.”

“It’s all right. I’m fine.”

“Then rest up, and we’ll resume lessons later.”

So, while I didn’t get a new teacher, I did earn a week’s reprieve.

As I lay there, trying to come up with a new plan, nothing useful came to mind.

I was still moping when a visitor arrived.

He said it was a “get-well visit.”

“Bergene, you’re so weak,” he said cheerfully.

I wanted to protest, but given my recent track record, I couldn’t.

“Mm…”

“Here, eat this and get better soon.”

Ritema’s gift was a cherry pie, piled high with filling. He said he’d asked the kitchen staff to bake it for me.

It was still warm, fragrant, and beautifully colored—utterly appetizing.

“I can’t eat it all myself. Let’s share it.”

“Then I’ll grab another fork. I only brought one.”

Ritema, who had been sitting on the edge of my bed, started to get up—but I stopped him.

“We can just share.”

I’d seen close friends share a single fork to eat snacks before.

Of course, I’d never been one of those friends.

Not that I had close friends, unless I wanted to get myself killed.

Still, Ritema seemed healthy enough; it should be fine.

“Hmm?”

When Ritema blinked at me in surprise, I realized I might’ve said something odd.

Kids at the orphanage were used to sharing everything. But Ritema wasn’t like them.

“…Only if you’re comfortable with it,” I added quickly.

“I don’t mind.”

He looked at the cherry pie for a moment before continuing softly,

“I’ve just never thought about sharing a fork before, that’s all. But I like it. It feels… interesting.”

He sounded genuinely sincere, not just polite.

He picked up the plate again and sat close beside me, clearly delighted.

“Then passing the fork back and forth would be annoying. One of us should feed the other.”

“Okay.”

“Since you’re sick, I’ll do it.”

Ritema neatly cut a small piece of pie and held it up to my lips.

I hesitated before parting my mouth to take it.

For some reason, it felt like I was being treated as a helpless baby, and the embarrassment dulled the taste.

I was about to suggest fetching another fork when Ritema smiled.

“This makes us feel really close, doesn’t it?”

The words sank into me quietly.

After a few more bites, I started to relax.

The sweetness finally reached me.

“Bergene, you’ve always had lots of people around you, right?” he asked once I’d swallowed.

“Well… I suppose.”

There had always been plenty of kids at the orphanage, after all.

Though, I doubted that was what he meant.

“Then did you ever share food like this with them?”

I looked at him silently.

The soft shadows in my memory, the deep and secretive blue of the sea beneath his lashes, the teasing curve of his lips—

He looked like a young incubus wearing a boy’s face.

“No. You’re the first, Ritema.”

His smile brightened, and I sensed a faint satisfaction in it.

“I’m glad. You’re my first too.”

He had said before that no one had ever suggested sharing like this.

So of course, it made sense.

“Then let’s stay together from now on.”