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Chapter 65
Ezekiel quickly put down his fountain pen, afraid he might ruin the carefully drawn doodle.
“Why the fuss?”
“Master Dogaresa has collapsed!”
Ezekiel, knocking over his chair as he stood, rushed out of the office with larger-than-life movements.
Viola, who had been transferred by carriage with the help of the staff from Valentina’s tea house, was slumped and powerless.
Ezekiel burst into the carriage, lifted the unconscious Viola in his arms, and charged straight to the entrance. He ran up the stairs and into the duchess’s room on the second floor.
“Call the duchess’s personal physician!”
“Yes, sir!”
Still unconscious, Viola was laid on the bed with her eyes closed and a frown on her brow.
While the physician examined her, Ezekiel held her hand and prayed. Michele, who had rushed over upon hearing the news, looked as if he’d lost his mind.
“Aunt, what happened? She was fine just a moment ago. Why did she collapse?”
The physician gave the answer.
“Overwork.”
“Insane…”
Michele twisted his face in disbelief.
Ezekiel felt as heavy as a wet sponge. Even the master of the duchy, who had governed the estate for years, had never collapsed from overwork. Why had his wife collapsed instead of him? He felt embarrassed, ashamed, and guilty all at once.
While Alfredo was telling the household staff about the duchess’s collapse and managing them, Oli questioned Valentina.
“She just collapsed? She staggered while holding her forehead and then fell like a rag doll?”
“Yes! Thankfully Anna and Mr. Wharton caught her. Otherwise, she might have hit her head on the corner of the table!”
“Was she feeling weak? Or orthostatic hypotension?”
“The physician said overwork.”
Oli, embarrassed by Ezekiel’s disdainful stare, sent Valentina away and began seriously caring for Viola. Although he could have left it to the staff, he didn’t feel like delegating it.
Alfredo and Michele remained behind where the other servants had been sent.
“I’ll make some vegetable soup, in case she wakes up.”
“Also, bring wet towels. She’s still unconscious, but we need to wipe her sweat.”
“Oli, I’ll come with you.”
“Thank you. Young master, please handle the soup. I’ll bring the wet towels.”
Ezekiel was so anxious he felt like he might lose his mind. Why? It had been over two hours, and she still hadn’t opened her eyes.
During that time, his heart had swung from the brink of a cliff to the floor. Memories he thought he had overcome suddenly resurfaced.
The nightmare of his parents dying from an infectious disease on the same day returned. They had both struggled at the edge of life and finally passed away in their beds, never to wake again.
Waiting for the wet towels, he realized how violently his emotions were swirling. If anyone touched him at that moment, he might do something rash.
“Please… please open your eyes. Please.”
Like a broken man, he kept repeating the same words, rubbing Viola’s cheeks and massaging her hands.
At the same time, he realized just how heavy and deep his feelings for Viola were. What had once been light excitement had turned into a fear he hadn’t known existed.
Momentarily losing control to anxiety, he wiped away the tears that had begun to fall.
“The wet towels have arrived.”
At that moment, Oli brought a basin with towels. Ezekiel, unconcerned about wetting his sleeves, soaked a towel in cold water and placed it on Viola’s forehead.
“Any response yet?”
The physician, along with Anna, manipulated Viola’s arms and legs while treating her. Ezekiel continued wiping her face and neck. He hoped that the cold towel would elicit some response, even just the opening of her eyes.
“Ugh…”
For the first time, a groan came from Viola, who had been completely still. It was a sign her consciousness was slowly returning.
After a few more minutes of examination and treatment, the physician confirmed that Viola had regained consciousness. It had taken half a day.
“Can you hear me?”
“…Yes.”
Her faint, drawn-out response made his knees go weak.
At that moment, Michele brought a hearty vegetable soup at just the right time.
“The kitchen staff were so shocked when they heard the duchess had collapsed. This soup is made with all their care.”
“What? Michele… you brought this for me to eat?”
“Huh? Aunt! You’re awake?”
Michele approached with a bright smile, holding minestrone—a traditional imperial recovery dish for patients, including Betra.
“You’ve eaten this when you were sick before, right?”
“I’ve never eaten it, even when I was sick…”
“What kind of house was the Starace family?”
Michele teased, passing the soup with vegetables and a spoon to Ezekiel.
“You know what I’m going to say, right?”
“I’ve grown enough to surpass your advice.”
Ezekiel, pretending not to cry, rubbed his eyes with his sleeve to hide his tears and gradually returned to his usual composure. He scooped a large spoonful of soup and blew on it. Seeing Viola’s eyes widen like the full moon, he carefully fed her the soup at a suitable temperature.
Viola accepted the soup without hesitation as before, and her complexion improved noticeably.
“It tastes better when someone feeds me.”
Seeing Viola jokingly speak even while facing him, Ezekiel was struck by a strange feeling.
“I’d welcome the chance to feed you anytime, but I hope it’s not always patient food.”
Seeing her smile lightly at his words, it seemed she didn’t mind eating recovery food.
Eventually, he lectured her at length on taking care of herself, driving everyone nearby crazy with his nagging, before leaving satisfied with the basin of wet towels.
From the bed, leaning on a pillow, Viola whispered to the staff.
“…Was Ezekiel always this much of a nag?”
“Yes. He’s strict with those close to him. Young Master Michele even wears earplugs to avoid it.”
“Scary… really scary.”
Viola clicked her tongue in a peculiar mix of amusement and exasperation.
Others might call him a nag, but how could he not worry?
Ezekiel believed anyone would act the same in his place. Especially with the entire household anxious about the duchess collapsing. A beloved duchess must take care of herself.
‘Now that I think about it…’
Leaning against the stair wall, he seriously reviewed the staff’s reactions.
When someone becomes the lady of a high-ranking noble house, many obey her. But the key is whether that obedience comes from the heart.
Obedience from the heart is loyalty.
No matter how powerful a ruler is, blind affection that comes under respect or loyalty is a separate matter.
Yet when Viola was ill, the staff genuinely worried for her. Though she had not been part of the household for long, in just over half a year, she had won their hearts.
Of course. From some time ago, he had noticed that the kitchen staff had grown more familiar with his wife than with him.
It wasn’t obedience born of position, but a feeling mixed with affection for the duchess.
‘Perhaps I’ve underestimated my wife the most.’
Having lived caught up in a recently resolved misunderstanding, his perspective had been narrow.
Viola had won not only his heart but also the affection of everyone in the household.
‘The duchess everyone respects and loves.’
Moreover, they had promised to stay together even after the contract marriage.
The final key to the last door, which he had hesitated to hand over thinking she might leave one day, would now be placed in her hands.
“Here you are.”
Alfredo pressed his tired brow as he came up the stairs and met Ezekiel.
