CBOM 20

chapter 20

In truth, during the past day while Grace rested, Essie had taken over every task that Grace used to handle.

Above all, Essie never showed any disgust toward Libanu’s outward appearance.

Not that she tried to befriend Libanu the way Grace did either.

That was precisely what Libanu liked most.

“Grace?!”

Just then, Essie returned from preparing Libanu’s meal.

In her hands were two servings of food.

“You weren’t in your room—what are you doing here?”

It seemed she had first stopped by Grace’s room, likely to bring her food separately.

“I felt stuffy.”

“Go back quickly. I brought your meal.”

Even if she seemed fine, Grace had consumed a poison of unknown origin.

Essie, who had personally seen her cough up blood, couldn’t help worrying—even when Grace insisted she was all right.

“Why not eat together here instead?”

It was Libanu who quietly spoke up.

Grace looked bored, and since it was time for Libanu to eat anyway, he thought it might be nice to share the meal.

“…Would that really be okay?”

Essie blinked in surprise.

A noble sharing a table with a mere maid—especially Grace—was shocking.

“What’s wrong with it?”

Libanu spoke as if it were nothing at all.

Since the person himself had given permission, Essie saw no reason to refuse. She set the two meals neatly on the table and gave Grace a look that clearly meant: Come sit down.

The Duke was in the middle of his work when he suddenly recalled the maid Libanu had mentioned.

He’d already received the report that she had nearly died, but recovered.

“What troubles you, my lord?”

The steward, who had been assisting with documents, looked curiously at the Duke when he noticed his master had fallen silent.

“Shall I bring some tea?”

“…Hmm. No. Tell me, is Libanu preparing well for departure?”

“Yes. He has nearly completed his preparations.”

“I see…”

The boy was a thorn in his mouth.

At birth he had been beautiful and lovely, but now… How had he ended up like this? Even the Duke himself found it absurd. But as both a father and the pillar supporting Foret, he had no choice.

He could not keep by his side someone who would not benefit Foret, simply because he was his son.

“That province, Albatahna… it still has that, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, my lord. Are you certain it is wise to keep them together?”

The steward seemed uneasy, but the Duke stroked his chin.

When Libanu had requested to go away for recuperation, the Duke had immediately thought of Albatahna.

A land where most of the people lived only off farming, surrounded by tall mountain ranges that made contact with other territories difficult.

If one wished to lock someone away, there was no better place.

“Two people in similar predicaments may understand each other and wallow in self-pity together.”

“If it remains at that, it might even be fortunate…”

“Even if they were to harbor other intentions—what could the two of them possibly do?”

They called it recuperation, but in truth, once in Albatahna, Libanu would never leave—unless he died.

The Duke would make sure of it.

“If he intended to rebel, he would have done so already.”

“That is true. For now, the maid seems to manage him well. Perhaps because she is still young.”

The steward briefly recalled the child he had once glimpsed in Albatahna, though he didn’t even know her face clearly.

Then, turning back to his master, he asked about the very person who had first drawn his thoughts.

The maid who had volunteered to serve the shunned Libanu.

“What kind of person is this maid, the one leaving with Libanu?”

“Everyone speaks well of her. Though she has only been employed in the Duke’s household a few months, she has gotten along with the other maids. The general impression is that she is kind and diligent.”

The steward seemed to have already investigated Grace and answered without hesitation.

“…I see.”

It made sense. Only such a person would willingly stay at Libanu’s side.

The Duke felt no real concern about Libanu or about that in Albatahna. But whether this maid could get along with them—there was some doubt.

Their dispositions seemed utterly different.

“Would you like to meet her?”

“No need. Simply keep an eye on things for a while.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“If any problems arise—remove the one who was there before.”

“My lord? But if we do that…”

“You said this new maid is kind and diligent. If so, she would surely pity the poor creature and take care of it.”

“…That is true. The first one was far too greedy anyway. Very well.”

Leaving behind that curt order, the Duke returned to his documents, as if brushing off needless thoughts.

Though both Libanu and Essie fussed over her endlessly, which was tiring, Grace could understand their worry.

Still, it was the first time anyone had ever reacted this way just because she was sick. She had no idea how to deal with it and was rather flustered.

Not even her parents had cared for her like this. In every loop, when she was ill, the only option was to endure it alone.

So their excessive fuss only made her feel more awkward.

“My lord, I’m really fine.”

“Even so, you ingested an unknown poison. You must be more careful, Grace.”

“…I am being careful. Essie is doing all the work, after all.”

For Grace, whose unwanted “professional habit” was to stay busy, the situation was suffocating.

Work lay before her eyes, yet she was forbidden from touching it. It made her restless to the point of pain.

“Then resting a little longer isn’t a problem.”

“…I give up.”

Since leaving the Duke’s estate in the carriage bound for Albatahna, Grace had been treated like an invalid.

She had barely lifted a finger, and was even receiving more attentive care than Libanu himself.

“How stifling is it, really?”

“Do you even need to ask?”

“Hm. Then why don’t we take a short walk to ease your mind?”

“I want to work, not walk.”

“Most people want to avoid work and play instead—why are you so desperate to work?”

Libanu sounded genuinely baffled.

“…Oh. You’re right.”

Grace blinked, murmuring unconsciously.

In this tenth life, she had resolved to live in comfort.

Yet before she even lifted a finger, that life had already been given to her.

If the master she served wanted her to rest—then she should simply rest.

“See?”

Libanu, thinking he had finally gotten through to her, smiled warmly and patted her hand.

“You need do nothing at all. Just rest.”

Words that others would envy, yet to Grace they felt unbearably frustrating.

“Ugh…”

Yes.

In her past lives, she had never learned how to rest.

She had worked herself to the bone, to the point of ruin, all for others’ sake.

Her grimace made Libanu start in alarm.

“Grace, what’s wrong? Are you in pain again?”

Suddenly, Grace felt her entire life had been absurdly unfair.

And for the first time, she saw her new master, Libanu, differently.

He was the first to tell her—when she was sick, when she was tired—that she should rest comfortably.

Fine then. She would rest. Truly rest.

Who knew how long this comfort would last?

No—she would learn how to rest from now on.

“I’ll rest. No matter what, I’ll rest.”

“Yes, yes. That’s the right decision. Grace, why not try laying your head on this pillow?”

“Yes.”

Grace leaned back in the carriage and buried her face in the soft, fluffy pillow Libanu handed her.

As her eyes fluttered shut in comfort, Libanu and Essie exchanged glances.

At last, Grace is resting in peace!

They stifled their laughter, thrilled inside.

Before long, the three arrived at the villa the Duke had secured for them.

It was located in a quiet rural village, far from the capital.

Rice fields stretched across the land, the village small and sparsely populated.

Stepping down from the carriage, they saw a beautiful villa of modest size.

“Wow.”

The building was neatly maintained, charming enough to draw admiration.

But in such a rural place, strangers were rare. Naturally, the new arrivals and their carriage drew curious stares.

“Looks like those people are moving into the villa.”

“From that carriage, they must be nobles. Makes sense—Sophie’s been managing the place all this time.”

Grace’s ears caught the whispers. A strange name—likely the villa’s caretaker.

“Is that man the master? Does that mean he’ll be living here now?”

“How should I know!”

“But why’s he so tightly covered up?”

The villagers’ topic soon shifted to Libanu.

At their murmurs, Libanu pulled his hood further over his face.

At least in front of Grace, he no longer hid his appearance. But in public, he still lacked the courage.

Indeed, Grace thought, if she had suffered such a skin condition, she too might find people’s stares burdensome.

But she would not have let it crush her self-worth—something only possible because she had lived many lives.

An ordinary person would never be so bold.