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Chapter 18
The twilight of early evening lay across the bed.
Even so, Cassia’s face—still not awake—was pale.
So pale that, for an instant, it made the boy feel dizzy.
Just like when he had seen his mother lying in her coffin about seven years ago.
Edmund shook his head, trying to cast off the ominous thought.
No. It’s nothing. Just my imagination.
Even so, he reached out to check that Cassia was breathing properly.
When he felt her faint but steady breaths, a sigh of relief escaped him.
Only then did Edmund startle as if burned.
Why am I worrying this much… and then feeling relieved?
It was unbelievable.
All this time, the boy had protected himself by trusting no one.
He had endured by relying only on himself, leaning on no one else.
Just then, the doctor who had examined Cassia gave his diagnosis,
speaking as casually as if it were nothing.
“She collapsed due to mild malnutrition. Young ladies often restrict their diets excessively to maintain their beauty, and things like this happen quite often.”
“My goodness, miss. You’ve been getting so thin lately that I was worried already…”
The nanny wiped away tears, yet looked slightly puzzled.
But our young lady hardly ever leaves food uneaten…?
Meanwhile, to Edmund, those words did not sound trivial at all.
“Malnutrition…?”
There was something only he and Cassia knew.
Cassia… she’s been giving me safe meals.
He had been grateful for it—yet had only suspected her motives.
I never once thought about where that ‘safe food’ was coming from.
Moretti, as well as most of the servants, had been keeping an eye on Edmund and Cassia.
In that situation, what kind of safe food could Cassia secure without others noticing?
There was only one possibility.
Don’t tell me… she shared her own portion with me?
It felt as though his heart fell to the floor with a heavy thud.
The boy stared blankly at his own hands.
The same hands that had lifted Cassia when she collapsed in the library.
Her body in his arms had been frighteningly light, dangerously slender.
“……”
He bit his lip. The taste of blood filled his mouth, but he couldn’t feel it at all.
In the bedroom, there were only Edmund, the nanny, and me.
I asked blankly, like an idiot.
“Malnutrition? Me?”
The nanny dabbed at her tears and scolded me.
“Yes! The doctor warned us several times not to restrict your diet excessively at your age, when you’re still growing.”
I couldn’t say, That’s not true.
I hadn’t meant to control my diet, but circumstances had forced me into something similar.
Maybe splitting half my meals—no, lately almost two-thirds—was too much after all.
I kept forgetting that my body was still that of a fourteen-year-old in her growth period.
From an adult’s perspective, if there’s a scrawny kid in front of you who can only eat poisoned food, of course you’d want to help.
If I’d known this would happen, I’d have moderated myself!
As I glanced at him cautiously, Edmund looked quite gloomy.
While the nanny stepped out to bring soft food and medicine,
an awkward silence settled between us.
I was wondering what to say when—
Edmund spoke first.
“Why did you do that?”
His voice carried tightly suppressed anger.
I felt a little wronged.
“At first, when the surveillance was stricter, there was no other way if I didn’t want Moretti or the head cook, Marsha, to notice.”
“……”
“If I’d gone to Marsha and asked her to give me meals for two people so I could share with you, what do you think would’ve happened?”
Edmund couldn’t argue with that.
“So you gave everything to me?”
“If I had, I would’ve collapsed in less than a month. Roughly… I shared about one-third.”
“That means you gave me more than half.”
Ugh, why is he so sharp about useless details?
I didn’t even know why, but I found myself watching Edmund’s reaction.
His expression was so downcast that it made it worse.
Then Edmund asked bluntly,
“Why did you go that far?”
“Well… I couldn’t exactly give you one full portion of safe food and eat poisoned food myself, could I?”
Edmund’s shoulders trembled.
It felt like he was barely holding himself back from snapping at me.
“You could’ve just… just left it alone.”
Was he saying I should’ve just let him eat poison?
Was he seriously saying that?
You know you become terminally ill because of that in the original story!
“I’ve been eating it for the past seven years anyway. You blocking it for a few months wouldn’t make much difference.”
No—it would have made a huge difference.
I knew that.
In the original story, the doctor said that if he’d been able to eat less poisoned food even for just a few months, detoxification might’ve been possible!
Would he ever realize how big those few months I bought him really were?
Frowning, I replied,
“No. If I did that, my sleep would get unbelievably rough.”
“……!”
Edmund looked as if he’d been stabbed by those words.
He was just about to say something more when—
The door opened, and the nanny came in.
“Here we are, your medicine and soup.”
Long live the nanny!
Thanks to her, we escaped the awkwardness.
I took the medicine the doctor had prescribed under her care,
and accepted the soup as well—
“This is way too much.”
It wasn’t a normal soup bowl; it was almost the size of a tray, filled to the brim.
The nanny and Edmund spoke almost at the same time.
“You have to eat it all!”
“Don’t leave a single drop!”
In the end, I had to drink the entire tray of soup until my stomach was bulging.
Since Cassia collapsed, Edmund’s emotions had been impossibly tangled.
Of course, Cassia recovered smoothly and quickly.
The doctor had said it was just dizziness from mild malnutrition.
After she started eating properly and taking her medicine, her complexion clearly improved.
Her cheeks filled out a little, and even her wrists—once painfully thin—looked healthier.
And that was when Edmund truly realized it.
She really did get that thin because she was sharing her food with me.
Cassia acted as if it were nothing, but Edmund couldn’t.
It feels like… like I’ve been a parasite, sucking the life out of Cassia.
He was disgusted with himself for having happily accepted the safe meals she gave him without knowing anything.
Hadn’t he even thought the portions were small and wished she’d give him more?
The thought made him nauseous.
His own rude, sharp words to Cassia came back to haunt him.
“What are you scheming?”
“You lie without even batting an eye.”
“You and my uncle must want me to grow up into an uneducated idiot who never receives a proper noble’s education.”
“If you cry, you’ll get even uglier.”
“I just thought you were grabbing me by the collar!”
Every single one of them had been cruel.
Cruel enough that it wouldn’t be strange if Cassia hated him.
Yet he hadn’t known what she was doing for him,
how much she was sacrificing.
He hadn’t known—and had only taken, and taken.
“……”
A sharp ache spread through his chest.
It wasn’t physical pain—it was his heart hurting, and the boy couldn’t deny it.
Everything Cassia had given him had been precious, vital things.
Yet he had never properly thanked her even once.
That realization hit him hard, and Edmund found himself crouching in a corner of the garden.
Just then, a gentle breeze stirred, shaking the stems of daisies blooming at the edge of his vision.
White and yellow—simple, yet lovely flowers blooming in abundance.
They reminded him of Cassia’s soft smile, warm like the sun.
For the first time in his life, the boy plucked flowers with his own hands.
With the sole desire of giving them to someone.
“……”
Holding a clumsy but earnest bouquet of daisies, Edmund headed toward Cassia’s bedroom.
He didn’t forget to move quietly, avoiding the servants’ eyes.
Partly because he knew it was wiser to hide how close he and Cassia were—
but even more because he was so embarrassed his face felt like it was on fire.
And when Edmund stood before Cassia’s bedroom door, bouquet in hand, his flushed face lifted—
He heard it.
“Little madam. After hearing the news, Young Master Patrick sent flowers.”
“……!”
Through the slightly open doorway, Cassia was holding a dazzlingly luxurious bouquet of roses.
