“Your Grace! Your Grace!”
“Helena?”
Helena’s voice rang out from beyond the door. It was hard to believe this was the same strict and composed head maid.
“Your Grace!”
At her urgent tone, Adrian immediately called her in.
“Come in, Helena.”
No sooner had he granted permission than the door burst open and Helena rushed in.
“Your Grace! Please, come check on the Grand Duchess.”
“What’s wrong?”
Her hesitation at his curt response made her expression falter. She looked flustered, even intimidated.
Tch.
Clicking his tongue quietly, Adrian softened his tone and asked again.
“What happened?”
“I went to check on her condition, but… something feels wrong.”
Same question, but a noticeably different reaction. Adrian narrowed his eyes at her reply.
He’d been told she had a cold—nothing serious. A capable physician from a reputable family had already examined her, medication had been administered, and maids were attending her.
So what could possibly be wrong?
Suddenly, a clear voice echoed in his mind.
"I’ll try hard for the next three years too."
“Ah.”
Adrian let out a short laugh.
Could this be what she meant by "trying hard"?
So sly.
“Let’s go.”
It seemed this was part of her underhanded “effort.” He might as well play along.
With that, Adrian left the study and headed toward the Grand Duchess’s chambers.
He’d expected some theatrical display—perhaps her lying in bed with a damp towel on her forehead, feigning illness.
But the sight that greeted him turned his expression stone-cold.
“…What is this?”
A frail body lay limp on the bed, pale and lifeless, lips drained of color.
Overnight, Ione had become a shadow of herself.
Adrian’s expression froze as he approached. He’d thought it was just an act.
Helena’s voice trembled.
“What should we do, Your Grace?”
“When did this start?”
“Since she took her medicine and fell asleep yesterday, she’s been getting worse.”
“What did Benson say?”
“He doesn’t understand what’s causing it either.”
“Where is he now?”
“He went to the dispensary to look for alternative treatments.”
Helena wrung her hands, at a loss.
“Could it be the black herb? Since she hasn’t been marked yet, we added a small amount of black herb to the fever medicine…”
He knew. He’d seen it himself.
That foul, dark concoction the two of them had fed her.
The estate’s mage had left to inspect the ward stones, and Adrian himself would soon have to leave as well.
There shouldn’t be anything bold enough to sneak into the Grand Duchy in their absence, but he knew better than to be overconfident.
That was why he had turned a blind eye to their “
remedy
.”
“Maybe mixing it with the fever medicine caused a reaction?”
“Impossible,”
Adrian said firmly.
The black herb—colloquially called “
monster weed”—
grew only in monster-infested areas and was saturated with miasma. Though harmless to humans, its stench and taste were foul, so it wasn’t consumed as food.
Still, in the North, it was occasionally ingested. The herb caused the body to emit miasma for several days, making it less likely for monsters to approach.
That’s why, when the mage was away, infants born in the meantime were often fed black herb tea.
If even newborns could handle it, it was hard to believe it could cause a problem for an adult.
Adrian gazed down at Ione and extended his hand.
“…”
His long finger gently touched the pale skin at the nape of her neck.
He needed to confirm whether the herb was truly to blame.
“Is it… serious?”
Helena asked nervously.
Adrian didn’t respond right away. He summoned his power instead.
Thump-thump.
Faint, but surprisingly regular. The pulse at his fingertips was weak but steady.
Not as bad as it looked.
If anything, the problem was that he had to use his own strength to even detect a pulse.
“And?”
Helena asked again, anxiety written all over her face.
“She’s fine.”
“Truly?”
The skepticism in her voice made Adrian chuckle lightly.
“She’s simply in a deep sleep.”
It was an extreme form of energy preservation, not unlike hibernation in animals during winter.
But for a human?
This was a first for Adrian.
A woman who hibernates—how fitting for someone destined to be his equal, he thought absurdly.
If she knew what he was thinking, she'd probably jump up and throw a fit.
Adrian raised his hand to cover the twitch of his lips.
“She won’t die. Don’t worry, just leave her be.”
“…But…”
Helena’s face was on the verge of tears.
But there was no way to explain this to her—not without certainty, and not as a non-physician.
“….”
Adrian looked once more at the death-like figure of Ione and pressed his lips tightly together.
Even if their marriage was forced by the Emperor, she was still his Grand Duchess.
He wouldn’t speak ill of his supposed mate, not even indirectly.
He looked at Helena and added firmly, as if to leave no room for doubt.
“Leave her as she is.”
“….”
“She’ll wake up when it’s time.”
Helena’s face crumpled at his words.
He didn’t need to hear her thoughts to know what she was thinking.
Probably something like
How heartless.
Or
So cold.
“Poor Grand Duchess…”
Just as always, he was misunderstood again—but Adrian’s expression remained unreadable.
“Did I, or did I not, tell you to use the fourth quarter data for that report?! How many times do I have to repeat myself?!”
The screaming was so loud it felt like my eardrums might burst.
“I
did
use the Q4 data—I just forgot to mention it before I sent in the draft,”
I replied, trying my hardest not to blush in embarrassment.
Getting into it with her would only lead to revenge. And that meant one thing: more overtime.
I hadn’t been home in four days. I just wanted to leave work on time for once.
This wasn’t fear. It was basic human survival.
“I’m sorry—I still have a lot to learn!”
I added that last part humbly, watching her brow slowly relax.
Of course she’d accept it. I was volunteering to take the blame for her mistake—screaming without even checking the files properly.
So please, just stop yelling.
My fake smile was starting to twitch.
Just when I thought I couldn’t hold it any longer, she suddenly chuckled.
“Looks like someone’s waking from hibernation.”
Hibernation?
It wasn’t the usual shrill, glass-shattering tone—her voice was low, soft, and oddly pleasant. It left me momentarily dazed.
Her face blurred before my eyes.
“What’s with that expression?”
“Huh…?”
“What kind of dream were you having, to wear such a forced smile?”
Dream?
I didn’t even have time to ask before the scene shifted.
I was sure my eyes had been open, but suddenly, everything came into focus.
“…Ah.”
The décor wasn’t modern. It was old-fashioned, grand.
Ione finally realized—
I was dreaming.
And she now recognized the man standing beside her bed, whose regal features seemed perfectly at home in this luxurious estate.
“Adrian?”
No matter how many times she looked, he was just
too
handsome.
But why was this beautiful man standing by her bedside?
Her groggy mind couldn’t form a complete thought.
She just blinked.
Then, it clicked—
He came to check on me.
Before she could even say anything, a low, clear voice reached her ears first.
“Are you alright?”
Ione couldn’t help but laugh.
The words themselves were simple—polite even. And coming from the Duke himself, such concern was humbling.
But hearing something so kind and courteous from
his
lips? It was terrifying.
Was it the inhuman beauty? That deep, gentle voice that made every moment feel cinematic?
Or was it that emotionally detached demeanor, like even his worry was cold?
Whatever it was—she didn’t know. But the
fear
she felt was real.
“Who worries like that? It’s scary.”
“Worry?”
Adrian repeated the word, genuinely confused.
That only made Ione laugh harder.
Poor man.
So clever and noble—and yet utterly unaware of his own feelings.
Tragic, really.
Still hazy from sleep, her usual caution didn’t kick in.
She spoke more freely than usual.
Resting her chin on her hand, she looked him over.
Light shirt, vest, slacks. He must’ve stopped by in the middle of work.
He hadn’t even met the next Duchess yet, but here he was, checking in on his
former
wife.
So thoughtful.
Unconscious kindness, huh…
Watching him quietly, Ione suddenly blurted out:
“It’s going to get better soon.”
“It should.”
He probably didn’t even know what she meant.
Yet he nodded as if it were obvious.
And just like that, Ione felt a flicker of mischievousness.
"Do you even know what I'm talking about?"