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Chapter 4
“Candy.”
“…Can…dy?”
It seemed he was rolling it around in his mouth, testing it. It was cheap, but apparently not bad.
“Sweet and tasty, right?” Grace asked with a gentle smile.
“…”
There was no reply, but she could more or less guess his thoughts.
“I gave you mine since the medicine might taste bitter.”
“Yours?”
“Yes. But it’s nothing expensive—it’s just candy made from corn syrup.”
If you added flavoring to corn syrup, you could get strawberry or apple flavor, but that made it a little pricier.
Having lived much longer than most, Grace was financially comfortable.
Through repeating regressions, she had discovered that the previous lives didn’t disappear completely. Not just her abilities, but even items could carry over.
Of course, there were conditions. Money stored in banks or entrusted to people would vanish. But if she buried it in the ground, it would remain.
So whenever she had money, she would bury jewels in a secret spot only she knew. Over time, quite a fortune had piled up.
Candy like this? She could buy it anytime she wanted.
Still, she preferred corn syrup candy. Maybe because she used to eat it in hard times, it tasted better. Sugar candy, on the other hand, was too sweet for her liking.
“Why’d you give me this…?”
“Hmm? Because medicine tastes bitter…”
“Don’t… don’t give me things like this…”
“Why? Didn’t you like it?”
Rivanou’s face looked on the verge of tears. He didn’t answer for a long time, then pulled the blanket over his head and lay down.
The food tray slipped weakly from his hands and fell to the floor.
Having lived more than enough lifetimes, Grace could guess what he might be feeling.
“I don’t know what it is, but I’m sorry. If it bothered you, I won’t do it again.”
But she pretended not to notice anything, picked up the tray, apologized, straightened his blanket, and quietly left the room.
The next day.
Grace was preparing breakfast herself.
Since she had been banned from the kitchen, the only option was to cook on her own.
After being driven out, she asked the head chef if she could at least take some leftover scraps. He must have pitied her, because he told her to come at the same time each day and promised to set aside some ingredients for her.
Thanks to that, she could now get usable food—and even managed to obtain some cooking utensils, slightly old but serviceable, along with tools for making fire.
This way, she could cook almost anything.
So that morning, she made a simple soup.
After feeding him, she planned to clean his bedroom.
The weather was cold, and leaving him with only a thin blanket was unacceptable.
She had also gathered some old blankets and quilts discarded by the maids.
Arms full, she knocked on his door. Even after knocking for a long while, there was no response.
“Lord Rivanou, I’m coming in.”
Something felt wrong. She carefully opened the door—and just as she feared, Rivanou was lying in bed, groaning in pain.
“Young master, are you alright?”
Startled, Grace set the soup down quickly and rushed over. His body was burning hot with fever.
No wonder his face had been flushed yesterday—it wasn’t embarrassment, it was the onset of illness.
“You have a high fever,” Grace said worriedly, pressing her hand against his sticky, sweaty forehead.
Even with his temperature soaring, Rivanou turned his head, trying to avoid her touch.
“I’m fine…”
“Ugh…”
“I need to call the physician and get you some medicine. No—better, I’ll bring him here!”
But just as she turned to leave, he grabbed her wrist.
Startled, she looked back. Rivanou weakly shook his head.
“He won’t come…”
“What?”
“He won’t come anyway…”
“…Then at least you need to take medicine.”
“I said I’m fine. Don’t fuss, you… cough… you, go do your chores… cough!”
He probably thought that saying this would make Grace leave happily.
But she stayed, silently watching him.
“…Cough, what… what are you doing?”
Rivanou gave her a puzzled look. Grace thought to herself:
He must have always been sick alone. That’s why he doesn’t even expect anything anymore. For him, this must just be normal.
She wasn’t someone who pitied others easily—her own life had been far too hard for that. If it were her previous masters, she would have left immediately. There would have been no benefit in staying.
But Rivanou was different.
She had to help him. She needed to make him indebted to her.
“Here, please eat this.”
“…What is it… cough!”
“You probably caught a cold. You need something warm.”
“…Where did you get this…?”
“I just happened to prepare it. Good timing, right?”
A little warmth would help ease his body.
Rivanou just stared at the steaming soup for a long while.
When he didn’t move even as she held it out, she asked:
“Should I feed you?”
Before she even finished the sentence, he quickly grabbed the spoon and hesitantly scooped up a bit.
Slurp—
“Does it taste okay?”
Without a word, Rivanou emptied the entire bowl.
Grace immediately wrapped him tightly with the blankets she had brought.
“…What’s this now…?”
“It’s too cold in here, so I brought some blankets.”
“…What?”
Rivanou’s eyes widened in disbelief. Then he let out a hollow laugh.
“Why are you doing this…?”
“Hmm?”
“…Why are you being nice to me?”
His voice was defensive, almost bristling with thorns.
“I’m your maid. It’s my duty to serve you.”
“And that’s all?”
“Yes. Should there be another reason?”
“…How long have you even been here?”
She had run away, come to the capital, passed the maid interview, and was hired.
In this cycle, she had only been a maid for about a month.
As a new maid, she wasn’t trusted with much beyond chores. Thinking this was useless, she had requested to be reassigned—and by coincidence, ended up with Rivanou.
“It’s been a month.”
“Even if you don’t know much, just looking at me should tell you this isn’t a good post. So why?”
“Honestly?”
“Yeah, honestly.”
If she didn’t come up with something, he would never believe her. So she chose one of the excuses she had prepared. It sounded the most plausible.
“The maid who used to serve you promised to pay me.”
That was actually true.
When she had asked for the reassignment, the other maid had gratefully offered money in return. It wasn’t much, but still, money was money.
“…What?”
“I don’t have money.”
“And for something that trivial…?”
“I need to earn a lot of money.”
“Then just take the money and do a sloppy job. This—this makes me uncomfortable. I don’t like it.”
Rivanou’s face looked genuinely uneasy. Probably because no one had ever cared for him like this, his first reaction was rejection.
“I’ll still do my best.”
Grace ignored him completely.
“Why, do you pity me?”
“…No. Serving you is simply my duty.”
“Is that really all?”
“I think you’re a good person.”
She slipped in a compliment.
Rivanou froze, his mouth hanging open before quickly insisting:
“I smell bad. I’m disgusting. Aren’t you afraid my skin disease will spread to you? You said you need to earn money—what if you get infected?”
“Hmm… I don’t think it will. I’m a lucky person, after all!”
Of course, she already knew it wasn’t contagious. There was no need to worry.
Grace smiled brightly.
From Rivanou’s perspective, she seemed reckless, thoughtless—utterly baffling.
Grace only shrugged.
After being dumbfounded for a long while, Rivanou eventually gave in to his fever and closed his eyes.
Meanwhile, Grace prepared medicine and a light lunch.
Since he was sick, something soft would be best—so she made a stew.
Not wanting to wake him, she waited until it cooled slightly. Then Rivanou stirred and slowly opened his eyes.
Perfect timing.
“Young master, it’s lunchtime.”
“Lunch…?”
Rivanou blinked sleepily, still dazed with fever.
“It’s still warm.”
Grace held the spoon up for him. Without realizing, he opened his mouth and ate.
“Does it taste alright?”
“…Yeah.”
“Good.”
Feeding him was easier than expected, and she even managed to get him to take the medicine.
Soon after, the medicine seemed to take effect, and he drifted back to sleep.
Grace quietly watched over him, then fell into thought.
