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Chapter 9
The attendants were startled when they noticed Cecil approaching.
“Your Highness, please get up—!”
But Cecil reached Lucy before the attendants could help her to her feet.
Squatting down, he grabbed the arm of the Lucy who was digging through the muddy ground and pulled her upright in one swift motion.
“What exactly are you doing?”
Cecil demanded angrily, and Lucy widened her eyes.
Just as the corners of her lips began to curl as though she were about to smile, Cecil sharply snapped at her again.
“Why are you digging through the dirt? Have you truly lost your mind?”
Because it had rained the day before, the ground was practically a pit of mud.
Having clawed through it with her bare hands, Lucy looked terrible.
The nightgown she wore beneath her coat was covered in dirt, and her hands were no different.
She looked exactly like a madwoman.
“If this is truly a mental problem, then my healing magic cannot help you.”
“……”
“I can recommend a sanatorium instead. Wouldn’t that be better for everyone, rather than wasting each other’s time?”
Lucy still said nothing.
Seeing her only blink innocently made Cecil feel even more suffocated.
“I no longer have the patience to deal with your bizarre behavior.”
Cecil, who no longer wished to involve himself with Lucy regardless of his pride as a healer, was about to declare he would stop treating her—
When Lucy reached out toward him again, just like she had yesterday.
This time, her hand moved toward the hand with which Cecil was gripping her arm.
Only then did Cecil realize how roughly he had been holding her.
A beat late, he released her arm and shut his eyes tightly before opening them again.
“My apologies. I got carried away just now…”
Then his words caught in his throat when he saw what Lucy was holding out to him.
Resting on her dirt-covered palm was a small gray pouch covered in mud.
The very thing he had been desperately searching for.
As though possessed, Cecil accepted the pouch and opened it.
Though the pouch itself was a mess, caked in mud, the object inside remained unharmed.
It was a hairpin handcrafted by his mother.
A simple hairpin that young Cecil had barely managed to save among the valuables buried with her at her grave.
Whenever it rained, Cecil would always take out his mother’s keepsake to look at it.
Because she had passed away on a day of pouring rain.
Back then, Cecil had been nothing more than a powerless boy.
With the healing powers he possessed now, perhaps he could have cured the illness that had consumed his mother.
Whenever such thoughts surfaced, unbearable headaches would follow, tormenting him helplessly for days.
“How did you…?”
Cecil trailed off before suddenly realizing something.
Looking around, he recognized this as the same place where he and Lucy had encountered each other yesterday.
After seeing Lucy out in the rain, Cecil had hastily stuffed the keepsake into the pouch before approaching her.
“So I dropped it back then? And you saw it?”
Lucy nodded.
“Then why didn’t you say so earlier? If you had told me sooner, you wouldn’t have had to go through all this trouble—!”
Cecil stopped mid-scolding.
‘This woman can’t properly speak…’
Because she had been expressing herself through actions all this time, he had momentarily forgotten.
She could have tried to explain through gestures that day as well, but the reason she hadn’t was because of him.
‘Because I forcibly dragged her into the temple.’
Cecil could no longer bring himself to lift his head.
Lucy hadn’t been acting insane.
Despite her frail condition, she had merely dug through the mud to find something precious to him.
After a moment of hesitation, Cecil gently took Lucy’s hand.
Unlike before, his touch was soft.
Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he carefully wiped the mud from her hands.
As expected.
Her palms and fingers were red and scratched from stones and branches.
Seeing that, Cecil felt his throat tighten painfully.
The one who had injured the patient he was supposed to heal… was him.
“I’m sorr—”
As Cecil lifted his head to speak, he paused.
Lucy was smiling.
Her eyes were warm, and the corners of her lips curved kindly, as though everything was alright.
She shook her head as if to say she did not want his apology.
“…Thank you.”
Instead of apologizing, Cecil expressed his gratitude.
At that, Lucy’s smile brightened even more.
Seeing that smile for the first time, Cecil unconsciously held his breath.
Then, snapping back to himself, he awkwardly cleared his throat.
“Let’s head inside. I’ll treat your injuries.”
Lucy nodded.
Watching his back as he walked ahead of her, Lucy could not stop the smile that kept forming on her lips.
The moment he thanked her—
Ding!
[Affection Level Change Detected!]
[Congratulations! Cecil’s affection toward you has reached the maximum daily increase.
Daily Maximum Increase: ??
Affection Level changed from ??? to ??]
Even though it was filled with question marks, Lucy nearly screamed with joy.
After all, his affection had risen from triple-digit negatives to double digits.
But her happiness was short-lived.
Ding!
[‘Abnormal Health Condition’ Warning!]
[Your body has entered a state where it can no longer endure consecutive reckless actions.
You will remain unconscious until your body has sufficiently recovered.]
Before Lucy could even finish reading the warning window, she collapsed.
“Your Highness? Your Highness!”
A panicked Cecil shook her, trying to wake her, but Lucy’s limp body gave no response.
Without hesitation, Cecil lifted her into his arms.
As he hurried toward the temple, someone entered his field of vision.
Bartholomew Faraday.
A terminally ill patient who regularly came to the temple for treatment.
With his arms crossed, he leaned casually against a pillar near the temple entrance, staring directly at Cecil.
Pressed for time, Cecil offered him a brief nod and tried to pass by, but Bartholomew stopped him.
“I have one question.”
Cecil looked surprised.
They had crossed paths several times, but this was the first time Bartholomew had spoken to him.
“Does the Princess truly suffer from aftereffects?”
At Bartholomew’s rude question, Cecil’s confusion deepened.
He couldn’t understand why the man was suddenly interested in Lucy.
After silently staring at him for a moment, Cecil slowly nodded as though he understood.
It was probably because of the rumors surrounding Lucy.
The rumors that the abandoned princess had tried to take her own life to gain the emperor’s attention, leaving her unable to properly move or speak.
And the rumors claiming those aftereffects were merely an act to attract pity.
Cecil himself had once believed those rumors, so he could understand Bartholomew’s curiosity.
Choosing his words carefully, he replied,
“I apologize, but I cannot answer that. Her Highness is currently unwell, so I must be going.”
Even after hearing that, Bartholomew showed little reaction.
After a brief bow, Cecil quickly walked past him.
Because she had pushed her weak body too far, Lucy spent the next three days bedridden.
It was good that she had accidentally raised Cecil’s affection, but it was probably still in the negatives.
And on top of that, the stamina she had painstakingly increased little by little had dropped back down to negative fifty due to her reckless actions.
‘This won’t do.’
Lucy checked the date.
One week remained until the imperial banquet.
Time was running short, so she needed to focus her efforts.
Without needing to think for long, Lucy already knew exactly whom she needed to focus on.
‘As expected, I need Bartholomew’s help.’
But could she really grow close to him and gain his assistance within a single week?
Growing anxious, Lucy forced herself up from bed.
Her head spun, and her trembling arms and legs nearly gave out beneath her.
‘First, I need to find Bartholomew.’
Once she found him, maybe her body would somehow recover.
With great difficulty, Lucy left her room and went searching for Bartholomew.
He was in the temple library.
This time, she had directly gestured to the attendants asking for his whereabouts, so she found him easily.
‘Does he like books?’
That fact confused Lucy.
Because the original male lead, Alexander, had also loved reading.
‘Could Bartholomew actually be Alexander?’
Maybe some unavoidable incident had completely changed his appearance.
‘Either way, Alexander was the last male lead to appear.’
But very little about his past had ever been revealed in the game.
It had only been mentioned that he had gone abroad to study in another country before returning.
Still, Lucy soon realized how ridiculous her theory was.
Appearance could change, perhaps—but personality was another matter entirely.
“Young Master Bartholomew.”
Lucy approached him while calling his name warmly.
Bartholomew, seated on the sofa with his back turned to her, flinched violently.
But that was all. He gave no response.
“Young Master Bartholomew?”
Lucy walked around toward the sofa where he sat.
The moment she saw him from the front, her eyes widened.
Something was wrong with Bartholomew.
As though his heart were in pain, he was clutching the left side of his chest and gasping for breath.
“Young Master Bartholomew! Are you alright?”
