IPBPBD 14

Chapter 14

Emilina hurriedly soaked the dried towel in water and placed it on his forehead.

At that moment, Kir groaned again.

“Ugh… please!”

It was a voice filled with desperation.

What kind of dream is he having…

Her heart ached to see the child, already burning with fever, now suffering through nightmares as well.

Emilina tightly held Kir’s hand.

With her other hand, she gently patted his chest, hoping it would soothe him.

But her wish did not come true.

Far from calming down, his fever refused to drop and only worsened.

All her devoted care seemed useless.

Kir didn’t regain consciousness until late afternoon.

After three days of this, Emilina was beside herself with worry.

“You fool. They say even dogs don’t catch summer colds.”

Of course, she wasn’t even sure if it was a cold or just some fever.

And she couldn’t find out either—since Kir adamantly refused to go to a hospital.

Her words were nothing more than the frustrated muttering of a worried heart.

Not understanding Emilina’s feelings, Kir gave a weak laugh, barely managing to breathe.

Swallowing down the sigh that threatened to escape, Emilina spoke.

“Let’s at least call a doctor, please?”

But again, Kir shook his head.

Emilina couldn’t understand. Why on earth did he refuse to see a doctor?

It was frustrating. If only she knew the reason…

Unable to do anything, she could only sigh.

If only he would think about the person who had to watch him suffer like this.

Just as Emilina was about to scold him out of irritation—

“Guh…!”

“Kir!”

Kir suddenly clutched his chest as if in seizure, writhing in pain.

He looked as if he could barely keep his body upright.

Emilina instinctively leapt up, but there was nothing she could do.

All she could manage was to pace anxiously, stamping her feet in helplessness.

As the agonized groans showed no sign of stopping, Emilina felt a deep wave of regret.

She should never have indulged his stubbornness.

What if Kir really died like this? The thought overwhelmed her with fear.

In the end, unable to endure any longer, Emilina declared firmly:

“This won’t do. I’ll go, even if I have to go alone.”

If he refused both the hospital and a doctor’s visit, then there was only one option left.

She would have to get medicine based on his symptoms.

The best thing would be for him to see a doctor, but since he rejected that, she had no choice.

Emilina turned to leave the room in a rush.

But then, a weak hand tugged at her skirt, halting her steps.

Looking down, she saw an arm sticking out from the bed, gripping her hem tightly.

Through ragged breaths, Kir spoke:

“Hhh… haa… Don’t… go, sister… Stay… with me.”

His trembling brows revealed his deep anxiety.

Emilina bit her lip, overcome with pity. Her heart threatened to soften.

But she couldn’t just stand by anymore.

If the fever didn’t break soon, his life could be in danger.

She gently pried Kir’s hand from her skirt and said firmly:

“Kir, stop being stubborn. This time, I won’t back down.”

“I… I’m fine…”

“Fine? How are you fine?!”

Her voice burst out sharper than she intended.

How dare he claim to be fine when he was on the brink of collapse? Her anger surged.

But Kir, in his hoarse, fading voice, pleaded again.

“Please… don’t go.”

A chill of foreboding crept over her.

She couldn’t explain it, but something deep inside screamed that she shouldn’t leave.

Yet Emilina steeled herself and turned away.

“It won’t take long. I’ll be right back.”

Kir stretched out a hand to stop her, but a fresh wave of agony hit, and he lost consciousness.

And that evening, though Emilina had promised to return quickly—she never came back.

It was from when he was younger.

Kyrgen’s world was not a large one.

A cold father who cared for nothing but himself.

A frail yet strong and gentle mother.

Even when locked in his room under his father’s wrath, his mother’s visits kept him from feeling lonely.

But when even his mother’s visits grew scarce, his uncle appeared.

“Your father has died.”

“Uncle…?”

“You wretched thing. My brother was right—you should never have been born, monster!”

His words, spat out in fury, were sharp as daggers.

And he never hesitated to wound Kyrgen.

His uncle went on, calling him the disgrace of the family.

That the deaths of his parents, the endless misfortunes that plagued the ducal house—

It was all his fault.

The young Kyrgen could only beg.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry, uncle. Please forgive me.”

But no matter how he begged, his uncle never ceased his cruel words.

“This is all because of you. You are sin itself!”

Kyrgen squeezed his eyes shut.

He wanted to escape this nightmare.

His uncle’s cold, condemning gaze terrified him.

And when he opened his eyes again, he stood in the middle of a forest.

It was not his uncle he saw, but Emilina.

Bathed in sunlight, smiling—she looked beautiful.

Cautiously, Kyrgen stepped toward her.

Fearful she might vanish if he touched her, he hesitated—yet still reached out.

To his relief, Emilina did not disappear.

Instead, she lifted him gently and drew him into her embrace.

In that moment, Kyrgen’s eyes welled with tears.

Relief washed over him like a wave, his eyes stinging red.

Her arms were as warm as his mother’s.

He wanted to remain like this forever, nestled in Emilina’s arms.

Even if, because of his small, frail form, she mistook him for a cat.

But the warmth did not last.

For above his head came her tender voice—

“Monster.”

It’s all your fault. Though her tone was gentle, the words pierced like a blade.

The same words his uncle had hurled at him.

The one person he never wanted to hear them from.

Kyrgen felt something shatter deep inside his chest.

“Haah!”

Kyrgen woke with a start, gasping for breath.

“Haa… haa—”

As he sat up, he found himself in an eerily quiet room.

The silence was ominous.

Then, right beside him, a deep unfamiliar voice spoke:

“You’re awake.”

Kyrgen instinctively tried to move back.

But a light pressure on his chest held him still.

“Lie down a little longer. The fever has broken, but you’re too weak to move yet.”

“…Who are you?”

Kyrgen asked warily.

The man withdrew his hand and sighed.

“That’s what I’d like to ask. Who are you?”

“…”

Kyrgen stared at the man in silence.

Was he sent by his uncle?

He didn’t sense any killing intent.

As Kyrgen tried to gauge the stranger’s identity, the man spoke again with a grave expression.

“Answer me. This is a very important matter.”

“Important… matter?”

Kyrgen frowned.

The man pulled a slip of paper from his coat and held it out.

“I am Rodin, a physician. I sometimes look after Lady Emilina. I found this in front of the house.”

Introducing himself, Rodin rubbed his face tiredly.

Kyrgen, face stiff, took the note.

He had a bad feeling.

And as always, his premonitions never missed.

For the note, enchanted with recipient magic, glowed with a green arrow pointing straight at him.

In other words, the message was meant for Kyrgen alone.

“I have the girl. If you want her back, come alone.”

The scrawled message was short and blunt.

As the designated recipient read it, the green glow faded away.

Kyrgen’s hand trembled as he clutched his chest.

A flood of unbearable dread overwhelmed him.

Whatever the sender’s intent, one thing was clear.

Someone who targeted him had kidnapped Emilina.

Rodin’s grave expression made denial impossible.

Even Emilina’s lingering scent in the room was faint, almost gone.

Kyrgen sank into despair.

His ominous dreams had left him uneasy.

His instincts had warned him clearly not to let her go, yet he had failed to hold onto her.

And so, Rodin’s suspicions were understandable.

Indeed, Rodin seemed convinced that Emilina’s abduction was tied to the boy before him.

“Lady Emilina hasn’t returned since yesterday evening. This… has something to do with you, doesn’t it?”

Rodin’s uneasy question was met with silence.

Kyrgen could only bite his lip—unable to admit the truth.