TDOT~25

Chapter 25 

 So Annoying

The kitchen was warm because of the fire Adele made. The only sounds were soup being poured, glasses clinking, and people chewing vegetables. Frida sat quietly, just watching Daniel eat. Then she reached for her glass. Her face got hot quickly from the alcohol, and she felt really thirsty. Without thinking, her hand kept reaching for the glass. But suddenly, she bumped it, and the drink spilled.

“Oh.”

She must be really drunk. Ugh… I should have listened when Muriel told me to stop drinking. Frida noticed the spilled drink was making a stain on the papers on the table. She quickly picked them up and shook them off.

“Whew, whew.”

She blew on the papers to stop the wetness from spreading. Luckily, she saved the important parts. As Frida moved to dry the papers by the fire, Daniel spoke to her.

“What were you looking at?”

“Oh, the letters of recommendation for the new servants.”

Frida waved the papers, holding the wet part down.

“I picked ten people for now. I chose a maid for Lady Boiled, and since we’ll have more people, I picked a few who are good at cooking. Do you want to see?”

“No.”

Daniel ignored the papers Frida offered and instead picked up his glass. The strong drink tasted like herbs, especially mint. It made his throat feel cool.

“This is my first time tasting something like this.”

“Adele made it by distilling herbs. Anton says it’s almost like medicine.”

Suddenly, the taste reminded Frida of medicine, and she shivered. She didn’t want any more. At that moment, Daniel’s hand touched Frida’s forehead.

“It feels like you have a fever.”

Surprised, Frida put down the papers and waved her hands.

“No, no. It’s just because I drank. Really, I had two drinks in a row—”

“I know. The doctor said you haven’t had a fever these days.”

But Daniel still didn’t move his hand from her forehead. Frida’s face was red, like flower petals, not her usual pale color. Her purple eyes sparkled, almost like fire.

“Don’t let the Duchess hear people’s rude gossip.”

It wasn’t that Daniel cared about what Dominic said. He never thought he’d face his wife like this in the kitchen. He had come back late and was hungry, but didn’t want to call anyone. He was used to solving things alone, just like when he was a mercenary. It felt awkward to be cared for. He came to the kitchen looking for food, but when he heard the women’s laughter, he didn’t leave. Maybe he did care a little about what Dominic said.

Daniel let his hand drop and suddenly asked:

“Are you angry with me?”

Daniel really hated things that weren’t clear, especially when it came to people. If someone was mad, he wanted them to say so. Then he could fix it if possible. He didn’t understand why anyone would hesitate. If they didn’t want to talk, that was fine too. He wondered why he was even asking his wife.

“No. Hiccup.”

But then he changed his mind about drinking more. He thought tonight they might talk a lot, and since Frida was already tipsy, he needed to stay clear-headed.

“That’s strange. I feel like you’re upset with me. And you’re not good at hiding your feelings.”

Frida pouted like a sulky child. She must really be drunk to act this way.

“I wasn’t mad at you. I was mad at myself. Well… you did cause it, but it’s not really your fault.”

Daniel realized his wife talked a lot when she drank, and he needed patience to hear her out. Luckily, that was something Daniel was good at. There was a long pause. Frida took another drink, then put her glass down hard and glared at Daniel. Even though she said she wasn’t angry, there was a fire in her eyes.

“You… are so annoying!”

Frida’s feelings for Daniel tonight were very intense. Daniel just watched her take another sip of minty drink.

“It’s true. You woke up after three years… and you’re totally fine. How is that possible? You’re not an animal, but you heal so fast it’s strange! When I get a fever, I’m in bed for days.”

First reason he’s “annoying”: he heals like an animal.

“And you can walk around in the dark without trouble. When the sun goes down, I can’t see a thing.”

Second reason: his eyesight is amazing.

“And you treat your body so carelessly. The day you fought Muriel, you didn’t dodge her sword, right? I saw you stick your leg out right where the sword would fall.”

Third reason: he uses his precious body carelessly.

“I thought I saw it wrong, because a normal person would never do that. How could you not be scared of a sword going into your leg? You could have died.”

“You can’t die from something like that.”

Daniel finally spoke, after being silent so long. Frida shouted,

“That’s annoying too! You act like someone who will never die!”

She thought his strength was cool and admirable but also made her jealous and angry. He had things she never could. She liked him so much her heart hurt, but seeing him so strong, especially before the sun went down that day, changed her feelings. During the fight with Muriel, she couldn’t look away from either of them. The way they fought seemed more like dancing. Then Daniel’s sword broke, and she saw his leg move right where Muriel’s sword would fall. She realized he did it on purpose to shake Muriel. She later asked Muriel about it:

“The Duke’s sword went into his thigh, and I lost focus for a moment because I was so shocked.”

Just as she thought—Daniel did it on purpose and stayed calm even with a sword in his leg. That made her angry all over again.

“Yeah. It must be nice to be strong like you. You’re tall, healthy, and your sword skills are amazing. It annoys me. It’s not your fault that I’m weak, but…”

Frida twisted her pale hair around her finger. She hated her colorless hair tonight.

“It’s not your fault I was born like this, but I can’t help feeling annoyed. I… I probably can’t even give you a child, but you keep telling me to do my duties as your wife.”

Frida knew blaming others wasn’t good, but she couldn’t help feeling bothered seeing Daniel lately. She had talked about being a “dutiful wife,” but when Daniel wanted to come to her room, her period started that very day. She was relieved but also sad, especially since Daniel hated the idea of having a mistress, and she couldn’t even give him a child.

“Damn.”

Of all the curses Ricardo taught her, this one fit her feelings best. Frida dropped her head onto the table. Her voice came out muffled.

“But don’t lose hope, Your Grace. I probably won’t live long, so your next wife can have your child.”

What am I saying? Her face burned and her head spun, but she couldn’t stop talking. Her eyes kept closing. Then, Daniel’s calm, low voice reached her. Even his voice sounded good—so annoying.

“People die more easily than you think.”

She thought of her sister, Lotte.

“But sometimes, they last a long time too.”

Is that why I’m still holding on?

“Madam, just like we can’t choose how we’re born, we can’t choose how we die.”

I know. Of course I know. That’s why I want to live well, for however long I have.

“And if you’ve lived twenty years, that’s not a short life.”

Frida turned her head slowly and opened her eyes. She saw her husband resting his chin on his hand, watching her.

‘Is he smiling?’

She couldn’t see clearly, but she thought he was smiling.

“Don’t smile…”

She heard a little popping sound—he really was smiling. He answered in his calm voice:

“Well, that’s hard to promise.”

“You’re really… so annoying.”

The taste of mint and the sound of Daniel’s low laughter. That was the last thing Frida remembered from that night.

I feel like I’m going to die. Frida usually avoided saying things like this, but today she had to.

“Ugh… Muriel. Muriel. Help me, please.”

Now I know what it means to say my head is breaking. I wish it really would—then maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much. Frida curled up, clutching her head.

“Muriel…”

When things were hard, the only thing she could do was call Muriel’s name. She kept twisting her body in pain when suddenly, a cold ice pack touched her forehead.

“It’ll help if you get up and drink some warm tea.”

“…!”

Frida quickly opened her eyes and saw the ceiling painting of an ash tree. That means I’m in my room… but why is that voice here? Frida sat up and saw Daniel standing by her bed. She covered her mouth with her hands.

“Y-Your Grace, why are you here…?”

Suddenly, a memory she should never remember floated into her mind.

“Trust me, Your Grace. I’ll give you an heir. Hiccup, I’ll give you the next Duke.”

Gasp. Daniel handed her a steaming cup of tea.

“Don’t remember it. Just forget it—unless you want to die of embarrassment.”