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Chapter 43
“Nurse!”
“Young master, don’t run! Oh, and don’t take off your clothes!”
Young Zephyrus ran as fast as he could and threw himself into the nurse’s arms, pressing his chubby, bright-red cheeks—chilled by the cold—against her face.
His father, busy with the affairs of the territory, and his mother, who still lived the life of a knight despite being the duchess, had carefully selected this nurse. She was another family to Zephyrus.
They were happy.
Until Zephyrus was cursed.
Unfortunately, it happened when neither the duke nor the grand duchess was at home.
From the floor he stepped on and the tears that flowed, ice began to spread endlessly.
“No… no, don’t… don’t come.”
The child stepped back, his eyes pressed shut from crying too much.
“It’s alright. You’ll be fine, young master.”
The nurse approached slowly, trying to soothe Zephyrus. She wanted him to be held. She wished this terrifying event were just a dream.
“Sniff… sniffle…”
When the nurse extended her hand nearby, the child could not summon the courage to refuse.
He brushed away his frozen tears and took her hand.
Screeeech—
He shouldn’t have.
The nurse, still wearing a kind expression, had frozen completely white.
“…Nurse?”
Dark clouds gathered over the once-clear, bright-blue sky. A blizzard struck. Blood tears streamed from the nurse’s eyes.
“Why did you grab me? Why did you freeze me? Why did you grab me? Why did you freeze me?”
The blood tears eventually froze.
“I-I’m sorry… s-sorry…”
Frozen, frozen, and frozen again. Even the snow falling from the sky turned red. Deep red ice pressed down on little Zephyrus.
It hurt. He could barely breathe.
“I’m… sorry…”
Zephyrus’s tears froze as they fell. Chunks of ice dripped down and piled up on the pillow. As the air, cold enough to freeze even his breath, tried to escape the room,
“Master…?”
Clemens quietly opened the door.
She knew she shouldn’t enter someone else’s room at night without permission.
But the intensifying chill left her no choice.
She waved her hands, melting the ice filling the room, and moved past the always-occupied study toward the inner room.
Since the room had a structure similar to her own, finding the bedroom wasn’t difficult.
Inside, she found Zephyrus, his face full of anguish, shedding tears.
“I’m… sorry…”
Seeing him mumble apologies repeatedly, she guessed what kind of dream he had been having.
Clemens slowly placed the back of her hand on Zephyrus’s cheek.
“It’s not your fault, Master.”
Words she wished she could have told her younger self. Just as it wasn’t her fault, it wasn’t Zephyrus’s fault either.
None of this was his doing.
“You can get through this.”
She slowly stroked his head until his face calmed. Continuously.
“Haah—”
She continued stroking him until he fell asleep.
Dawn.
Zephyrus stirred.
Something heavy pressed on him.
He opened his eyes, thinking perhaps he had overexerted himself the day before.
“…?”
Crimson light enveloped him. A long, pale arm stretched across his body.
He lowered his head cautiously, moving as if a creak might sound.
“…Clemens?”
“Mmm… you’re awake?”
Clemens rubbed her eyes and got up unsteadily.
“Why… are you here?”
“I think you had a scary dream last night. It kept getting colder, so I came.”
“I understand that part… but…”
Clemens noticed the question Zephyrus wanted to ask but couldn’t speak.
“Oh, I fell asleep without realizing it. Sorry!”
“Now you apologize—! …Huh.”
Zephyrus raised his voice but then sighed and got out of bed. He now knew words would accomplish nothing.
“I’m fine, but you shouldn’t do this to anyone else.”
“I know that. Am I a child?”
“I just wish you would acknowledge that sometimes you behave like one.”
“Eh.”
Clemens laughed, dismissing Zephyrus’s worry, and stretched.
“By the way, did you read the letter?”
“Letter? Ah, not yet.”
Zephyrus dressed neatly while Clemens brought water for him to wash his face.
After washing, Zephyrus broke the wax seal stamped with the Demeter family crest.
The elegant handwriting started with an ordinary greeting, but as he read further, the content became serious. Clemens watched his stiffening expression and asked,
“Is it bad news?”
“It says she’ll visit the residence in person.”
“Then why do you look so scared?”
“I think Nerhi is reaching here as well.”
The letter wasn’t long, but it seemed to say everything it intended.
In summary:
[This time, refusal of a visit will be refused. The date is around next month. The guild will enter, and there is no reason I cannot go.
The Marquis Demeter will continue communicating with Fruina’s branch. Be cautious.
I do not wish to maintain the engagement, but I do not wish to cause offense either. Watch my father carefully and continue correspondence.
From Liriart Demeter, a friend since birth.]
Liriart of the Demeter house had been a friend with frequent interaction.
Although the engagement existed due to a family arrangement, Liriart seemed dissatisfied with it.
Zephyrus, if Rosia hadn’t stopped him, would have likely sent a letter breaking the engagement long ago.
“Hm. Do you think I can control my curse to some degree?”
“Well… everything depends on what you do, Master.”
He nodded. Inside the room, he resolved to control his curse perfectly, no matter what.
Since it was still too risky to go outside, Zephyrus made it his first goal.
Once Tay’s medicine was ready, he would summon the branch family.
This was from someone who had sent a protest letter, saying she wanted to see the duke in person.
‘Even if I don’t rush outside, just seeing my face should serve as a warning.’
A warning: “I am fine. Don’t dream foolishly.”
Nerhi, who had already crossed the line, would be dealt with. The warning would reach the other elders and branches.
Those who still babbled nonsense about whether the duke truly lived or whether the grand duchess still held power could be pressured effectively.
As long as he applied proper pressure, things would be fine for now.
The problem of the unruly branches…
In fact, Nerhi had been too careless.
He assumed Zephyrus would never step outside, never show his face, and continued stirring trouble.
He probably didn’t know why Zephyrus insisted on staying in the room.
‘…Could he know?’
He probably didn’t, but checking wouldn’t hurt.
Still, that was something to instruct others to do.
Zephyrus had a clear task.
“All future reports will be in person. Tell Rosia to deliver that.”
“Oh! Going strong!”
“I must go outside quickly to resolve everything.”
Clemens gave a thumbs-up.
“Then should I call Airit and Tay again?”
“Only the doctor, not the minor lord.”
“Yes.”
“You bring the doctor yourself.”
“Will do. Let me change my clothes first.”
Clemens had also come while half-asleep, still in pajamas.
“…That’s obvious, no need to say it.”
Chuckling, Clemens left the room. Zephyrus exhaled lightly and brushed his hair back.
‘I wonder who Liriart really is.’
He felt both a bit regretful and relieved.
A dim room.
The only light came from a fire heating a cauldron. A man grunted as he lifted the pot.
He poured the bubbling, unidentified liquid into a conical flask. Strange smoke rose, and the liquid changed color.
“Su-success… ahem!”
He hadn’t spoken much, so his throat was dry.
The man, Airit, immediately grew serious.
Beside the lab table lay a very old book.
It was a hand-drawn herbal compendium, one herb at a time.
Airit gazed at it coldly and sighed.
‘I don’t want to get involved in political fights…’
But whether he liked it or not, he had already stepped into it.
All he wanted was a life devoted to herbs, yet here he was.
‘This human is of no use to my life.’
He shook the flask. The medicine automatically formed into a rounded mass—it was identical to the medicine Nerhi had given Harbi.
If one became addicted, they would grow dull, numb emotionally, and see hallucinations. Prolonged intake caused fever and delirium. These were the symptoms of the medicine he had created.
The exact effect would only be confirmed once administered to a patient.
He hoped this would be the first and last time he made it.
Because once it was revealed that someone was poisoned, he would have to make an antidote.
Airit packed the medicine and closed the old notebook.
On the front was written in childish handwriting:
[Interesting Herbal Modification Research Log]
Crea Wished.
Airit Wished.
The name of someone he had parted ways with over ten years ago, their intentions having diverged.
