🔊 TTS Settings
Chapter 16
Joshua clamped his mouth shut and nodded frantically at the gesture telling him to stay quiet.
After giving a small wave goodbye, he carefully closed the door — even quieter than when he had entered — and quickly walked away.
The farther he got from Zervant’s room, the more his face filled with joy and relief.
“Zer was sleeping!”
“Soundly!”
“Comfortably!”
He even worried that Titia might wake him — the same gentle consideration Zer used to show others despite pretending not to care.
That thought made Joshua so happy he didn’t know what to do with himself.
“Titia really was the right one.”
But soon, his excited steps slowed, and his cheerful face dimmed, twisting into one of sorrow, as if he might cry at any moment.
“…As long as that curse continues, this peace won’t last long.”
The curse that kept Zervant trapped inside that room.
“How on earth can it be broken?”
There was no way to undo the curse placed by Serael’s demon.
Joshua bit his lip, blaming his own powerlessness.
“Do I have to go to the Demon Realm?”
But if he did, he might never return.
Even if he found a way, the chance of coming back to the human world was slim — because demons couldn’t come here by ordinary means.
Clatter. Thud.
Our hands brushed as I was setting the dishes down with Boss.
No way was I letting this moment slip by — I blushed deliberately.
“Oh my…!”
“…Don’t. Seriously.”
He sounded genuinely exhausted, but there was no stopping me now.
“Yes, sir.”
Even as I answered, I stole shy glances at him, pretending to swoon.
When I squealed a little, Boss took off his glasses and rubbed his face.
In an instant, he looked visibly drained.
When he reached for the cup in front of him, I purposely reached for the same one — our hands brushed again.
“You…”
“I’m embarrassed!”
“…Ha. Forget it.”
Apparently too dumbfounded to respond, he looked away, took a sip of water, and set the cup down.
“If you’re done playing around, sit.”
“Yes! Today’s main dish is a thick purée soup with truffles and potatoes, trout marinated in wine, and… um, other stuff!”
The head chef had explained it all in fancy terms, but I couldn’t remember any of it.
Honestly, I wasn’t even sure if I’d said the names right.
“Since when did you start explaining things?”
He took a sip of soup, staring at me with curious golden eyes.
“Are you sick?”
“Me? Of course not.”
“Exactly.”
“Why, do I look pale?”
“You look a little flushed.”
“That’s because your radiant beauty is too blinding, Boss—”
“Stop being dramatic.”
But it wasn’t drama — it was true.
He really was handsome. Too handsome for words.
That face — tired, shadowed, but devastatingly attractive.
That tall, sturdy build — unbelievable for someone who’d lived like a recluse for two years.
And that glimpse of sculpted chest muscles between his shirt buttons…
“…I’d like to believe you’re not drooling over me right now.”
Please don’t believe it — because that’s exactly what’s happening.
He glared at me, pulling his shirt closed, and I just shrugged and took a spoonful of soup — then froze.
It tasted a bit… bitter?
Boss said nothing. He usually ate anything, but if something tasted bad, he wouldn’t even touch it.
Maybe it’s just not to my taste?
But the other dishes were the same. Everything tasted off. My appetite was gone, and I eventually set down my spoon.
“You barely ate breakfast too.”
“I’ve got no appetite. Why, I wonder?”
The only times I ever ate this little were when I was broke.
“Because you’re sick.”
“I haven’t been sick since I was a kid.”
“Then get a doctor to check you.”
“I think I’ll be fine after a little nap—”
“Just do it.”
He snapped irritably. I muttered under my breath on purpose.
“What’s the harm in asking nicely…”
“Clean up.”
“Ah—just kidding! Please, finish your meal!”
“Forget it. Go see the doctor. I’ll have someone else clean this up.”
Then he tugged the servant’s bell rope and practically pushed me out of the room.
Thrown out.
At the infirmary, the doctor looked me over from every angle, took my temperature, then said:
“Your pulse is a bit weak.”
“Yes, it’s always been that way since I was little. Must be my constitution.”
The doctor nodded and scribbled something down.
“You’ve caught a touch of the flu.”
“Is it serious?”
“You’ll start feeling very sick in about five minutes.”
…What kind of precise diagnosis was that?
Before I could even react, my body started to ache, my throat grew sore, and I began coughing nonstop.
A genius! This man’s a genius!
He handed me some medicine and water, and I took them obediently.
“All that accumulated fatigue finally caught up to you. You’ll need at least ten days of full rest. I’ll prepare your prescription — wait here.”
He went into the dispensary, and I sat waiting on the infirmary bed.
At least, I think I did — because after that, my memory went blank.
Cough, cough.
Oh no.
I really am sick.
My head throbbed even after waking. I’d never felt this awful before.
Did I come back to my room?
But I had no memory of that. And the faint medicinal smell told me otherwise — I was still in the infirmary. Or more precisely, a patient’s room.
“Cough— Um… Doctor?”
My voice came out cracked and dry. I wasn’t sure it’d even reach him, but thankfully, he entered.
“You’re awake. Take your medicine.”
“On an empty stomach?”
“Doesn’t matter. You’ll just throw up anyway — like before.”
“…”
“You don’t remember. It’s temporary. Your fever was high; it’s no wonder you were delirious.”
“I’ll be okay, right?”
“You won’t die. I’ve already informed Mr. Veilt, and he’ll tell your boss.”
Good.
If Veilt knew, then I didn’t have to tell Boss myself.
…Although, what if Boss was secretly relieved I was gone?
That’d be so rude!
Grumbling to myself, I swallowed the medicine and lay back down.
My head and body felt heavy, and the drowsiness from the medicine soon pulled me under again.
Crunch. Crack.
In a dark room, the only sound was Zervant savagely biting at his fingernails.
Crunch. Tick.
His nail finally split, and beads of blood welled up — but he didn’t even seem to feel the pain, his jaw tightening instead.
“…Four days.”
Titia hadn’t shown up.
“Why…?”
So she was sick that day.
That’s why she hadn’t come. She must be too sick to move.
If you were going to take sick leave, you could’ve told me…
The anxiety kept growing, and he bit his lip hard to suppress it.
The taste of blood filled his mouth, but he couldn’t stop.
Knock, knock.
Zervant’s head shot up.
Ella entered through the door.
“Uh… What is it? Why are you looking at me like—”
She couldn’t finish.
The razor-sharp glare he shot her made her freeze.
That killing aura — she knew better than anyone that if she spoke now, she’d die for it.
Ella wisely stayed silent, closed the door, and left.
What’s with him? Why’s he so nasty lately?
Even when she teased him in the past, he’d never looked that vicious.
When she was gone, Zervant exhaled deeply, trying to calm himself.
“It’s just one maid gone. So what?”
What was the big deal?
Who even was she, really?
But his words didn’t match his body — his legs trembled, and his pupils shook violently.
Unable to take it, he jumped up and pressed his ear to the wall.
No sound. Of course there wouldn’t be.
But he couldn’t pull his ear away.
She was always hovering around, and now she’s just— why…
Then suddenly, the memory hit him — their last conversation, four days ago.
“I think I’ll be fine after a little sleep…”
“Just do it.”
“What’s the harm in asking nicely…”
“Clean up.”
Zervant’s harsh words.
Titia’s flushed face, her weak voice.
“Ah… Ahh.”
He groaned, sinking into his seat, a hand over his forehead.
“So that’s why…”
Because he’d spoken so coldly—
he’d hurt her.
