RTGD 70

Chapter 70

At the same time Peter, imprisoned in the underground dungeon, was beginning to realize the connection between the Countess and Kendrick’s incident—

Litricia was staring emptily at the place where Killian had just vanished.

No matter what she said, Killian absolutely refused to let her accompany him. He had downed a strong glass of rum, then tore apart a teleportation scroll right in front of her.

Litricia had tried to stop him, but by the time she rushed into the study, Killian had already disappeared beyond the shattering golden magic.

“Gorten. Killian left alone.”

“Lady Litricia, please return to your room now. I’ll escort you.”

Gorten carefully attended to Litricia, who was left alone in the dark, empty study.

“Even Sir Davis is gone… What should we do? From what I overheard, things don’t sound good, and he went without an escort… What is he planning to do all alone…?”

“You needn’t worry too much. His Grace the Grand Duke is far stronger than you think. He’ll return quickly, just as he promised.”

Litricia also knew Killian was strong—but that did little to ease her worries.

The moment she realized she liked him, something like this happened. Her stomach churned.

‘Why am I so anxious?’

“And the knights of Silvano are already following His Grace to the capital. They’d never leave him alone. Still, if you’re uneasy, would you like to remain here for a while?”

At Gorten’s suggestion, Litricia nodded.

At the very least, staying in the room where Killian’s lingering scent of cigars mixed with his body warmth still hung in the air seemed to ease her uneasiness a little.

“Then I’ll send Mia and Allen here. Please wait here for a moment.”

After seating her on the sofa where Killian had once tossed his coat, Gorten left to fetch Mia, sending Litricia worried glances as he went.

Again, Litricia clutched her head. She had felt the same heaviness before entering the study, and now the symptoms returned.

When the first signs appeared, she had wanted to call for Piril, but the feeling had vanished after only a few seconds, so she ignored it. This time, though, it seemed stronger.

But soon enough, her head cleared again. Since there wasn’t any pain, her thoughts quickly returned to worrying about Killian.

“Ah… Why do I keep feeling so uneasy?”

She rubbed her hands together, cold and bloodless, after lifting them from her forehead.

For some reason, her nerves refused to calm down.

Then she realized she was sitting on something under her thigh. It was a notebook that had slipped out of Killian’s coat pocket. A small book with a yellow flower drawn on it.

The notebook still carried Killian’s warmth.

“…Was this always this thick?”

Inside the stuffed notebook was a bundle of folded papers, squeezed in to match its size.

The rough yellow paper looked familiar, so Litricia tugged at it. A piece of a rabbit ear sketch poked out.

“These are the drawings I made…”

Drawings she had scribbled and forgotten—yet Killian had folded them carefully and kept them.

Unfolding the wrinkled scrap papers one by one, Litricia’s gaze fell back on the open notebook.

She expected to see Killian’s elegant cursive handwriting, but instead, the white paper was covered with dotted braille.

She hesitated—was it right to look at someone else’s things without permission? But impulsively, she traced the bumps with the soft skin beneath her nails.

She hadn’t fully mastered braille yet, so she stumbled over a few letters. Still, it was enough to realize this was someone’s diary.

At first, she thought it was Killian’s. But the more she read, the less it seemed so. What struck her as strange was—

“These dates… they’re all in the future?”

Indeed. This diary had been written more than half a year from now. Impossible. Yet the braille spelled it out clearly.

And the content—Litricia already knew it.

Startled, she sprang to her feet and yanked the door open. Allen, who was just stepping in with a tray of freshly brewed chamomile tea, jumped in surprise.

The hot tea nearly spilled onto Litricia, but Mia, standing by the opposite door, reacted quickly and snatched the teapot.

“My lady? No, Lady Litricia? Where are you going? The steward said you’d be here.”

“To the library!”

“What? Wait, don’t run—let us come with you!”

Allen and Mia quickly set the tray on the windowsill and ran after Litricia down the corridor.

“Lady Litricia, what is going on? If there’s a book you want, we’ll fetch it for you!”

“Ugh!”

Allen was especially desperate—he knew all too well how easily Litricia fainted.

Soon Justin and Piril also joined the chase, probably alerted by Allen’s frantic calls.

“My girl, you shouldn’t be running like that yet!”

With a small entourage at her heels, Litricia rushed into the library and dumped all of Killian’s fairy tale manuscripts onto the floor.

“They’re the same…”

Each and every one.

Aside from the ones written to send to Telsi village, every story matched the diary entries.

“How is this possible?”

Could it be Killian had written the diary last year but misdated it, confusing the Imperial calendar? It was far-fetched—yet surely more believable than a diary accurately recording unwritten fairy tales months in advance.

Yes. That explanation made sense. But then why…

Tracing the braille stamped like a seal on the last page, Litricia closed her eyes and focused, reading again.

No matter how many times she tried, the content did not change.

“Why is my name written here?”

It was impossible to dismiss it as a prank. The braille carried the same quirks as her own—when she tapped dots with a pen, the hemispheres tilted slightly left. The same way the third line onward always slanted down to the right.

These were her habits.

It was indeed her own writing. Yet she had no memory of writing it. In fact, it was more accurate to say that the current Litricia couldn’t have written it. Some of the braille letters were ones she hadn’t even learned yet.

‘Then who wrote this?’

Overwhelmed by the absurdity, Litricia clutched her head. Again, that heavy feeling pressed down on her.

“My lady! Are you alright?”

“No. I’m not. It feels like my head will burst.”

She remembered Killian’s words at the clock tower.

“I made a wish. To find what was lost.”

Her spring-colored eyes stared at the transparent glass of the clock tower. The clock, which had once moved only to freeze again, now ticked once more.

“Killian… what on earth did you wish for…?”

“Is she asleep?”

“Yes.”

A fever radiated from her smooth forehead.

After suddenly bursting into the library and babbling incomprehensibly, Litricia had clutched her head in pain and collapsed into unconsciousness.

Justin, who had carried her to her room, pressed his palm to her brow as she slept like the dead.

“What’s with those fairy tales… And what’s this about a wish?”

He examined the stack of books Litricia had stubbornly insisted on bringing with her. Weren’t these the ones Killian wrote?

The author was surprising enough, but otherwise, there was nothing strange about them. Nothing, except that—just as Drew once said—the rabbit protagonist resembled Litricia far too closely.

“Hmph. I can’t see what’s wrong with them. Piril, do you understand why she was so startled by these books?”

“I don’t.”

Piril repeated Justin’s gesture, checking Litricia’s forehead. His face, once so bright with optimism about her recovery, had grown dark.

“Her fever keeps rising.”

“Exactly. It should’ve broken by now. And the tangled mana within her isn’t unraveling anymore.”

“…Are we even treating her correctly?”

“…We have to be. We must be. You’ve seen it too, haven’t you? Her condition was clearly improving.”

“Yes… it was.”

Piril pushed up his thick glasses.

“Rarely, there are cases where mana runaway seems to improve at first—only to burst all at once, like a dam breaking.”

Justin folded his arms, looking troubled. Then, shaking his head fiercely, he dismissed it.

“I’ve heard of that, but even I haven’t seen such a case in decades—it’s that rare. Don’t say such unlucky things! You’ll curse us!”

“…You’re right. I’m just being overly anxious with age.”

“Instead of worrying, fetch some fever medicine. I’ll make more cold towels. And—you didn’t say any of this in front of Litricia, did you?”

“No. I still have that much sense.”

Neither of them noticed Litricia’s eyelids trembling faintly. Justin tapped the fairy tale books and stood, leaving the room with Piril.

“Good. Let’s get back to work. If Killian finds out his wife is lying here like this, he’ll tear me to shreds!”