Adrian, momentarily taken aback by Ione's outburst, let out a short, incredulous scoff.
She spoke clearly, and he had thought they'd begun to understand each other—but apparently not.
Ione’s green eyes were so dilated they looked nearly black.
“Poor Grand Duchess.”
For some reason, Adrian was reminded of Helena, tears in her eyes.
Poor.
Turning Helena’s words over in his mind, Adrian bent down slightly and gently brushed Ione’s hair back.
“It’ll get better soon.”
“And do you even understand what that means?”
“If the Lady said so, then it must be true.”
“What is that even supposed to mean? Ha, ridiculous.”
She really was not in her right mind.
Ha? Seriously?
Adrian hadn’t known her long, but even before she fell ill, he remembered how she used to tiptoe around him.
“This must be the real you.”
“What do you mean ‘the real me’? I’m just so dumbfounded by Your Grace’s arrogance.”
“There’s no reason to pretend to be humble, is there?”
“…Amazing. I suppose. It’s fine for a male lead to act that way.”
Male lead?
The term triggered a vague sense of confusion.
But Adrian wasn’t foolish enough to argue with someone clearly not thinking straight.
“You’re lucky. I wish I could be that certain of my own happiness.”
“You said you’d try.”
Eione’s eyes were already half-lidded.
“Do you think trying will be enough?”
“You don’t think it will be?”
“Will it really work?”
Her eyes blinked more slowly each time.
Just as his nanny once did, Adrian stroked her head with a firm yet gradually softening hand.
One stroke, two… by the third, his touch was gentler.
Light and soft.
Whatever he was doing, it was working—her tightly furrowed brows now lay smooth, a stark contrast to her earlier grimacing and grumbling.
“Hm? Will it work?”
“I’ve never failed to achieve something I’ve tried for. So I wouldn’t know how to answer that.”
“Will it work?”
She asked again, with dogged persistence.
Normally, he would have ignored such a foolish question. But the way she looked at him—like she was on the verge of tears—stopped him.
“It will.”
“Really?”
“It will.”
“You promise?”
Adrian answered again and again until her eyes were fully closed and her breathing steady.
It will.
Her expression melted like snow under sunlight.
Why did that simple phrase—just because
he
said it—make her look so at peace?
Adrian felt a strange twist inside him.
To everyone else, he was always a “
monster
.”
He knew they viewed him with awe, fear, and a reverent distance—as something other than human.
He was used to shock, to caution, even horror.
But comfort?
Comfort was utterly foreign to him.
So even knowing she was already asleep and couldn’t hear him, Adrian whispered again,
“It will.”
Her melted expression lingered in his mind.
Knowing full well he might never see it again.
He said it one more time.
Ione had a vague memory of Adrian visiting her during her illness and things feeling… strangely warm between them.
Was that all a dream?
Because right now, she was a mess.
Helena stood before her, eyes glistening, looking like she was ready to cry—or kill someone.
“Oh, goodness, your face has gone all hollow.”
Is she angry or worried?
Her gaze was so intense she could probably conquer the entire North with it.
But the hand that brushed Eione’s cheek and straightened her shoulders was gentle and careful, leaving her confused.
“I really thought it was serious. No one said anything, but…”
Helena trailed off, rolling her eyes again.
When Ione had fallen asleep with a fever, the sun had just begun to set.
Now it was bright outside—she must have slept for a full day.
No wonder I feel refreshed.
Ione sighed softly.
She had meant to keep a low profile, then leave quietly when the time was right—but collapsing on her very first day?
She must’ve made a terrible impression.
Ione glanced at Helena’s furrowed brow.
“I guess I was lying down for a while, huh?”
She gave a pale smile and muttered.
Her voice came out hoarse and raspy—probably from the dream she’d had about being overworked at her old job.
Wow, that sounds genuinely pitiful,
she thought.
“I’ll get up now.”
But Helena’s eyes flared as she raised her voice.
“Of course you will! You can’t just lie here forever!”
She’s… intense.
Ione felt slightly stunned.
She hadn’t expected someone to yell at a weak patient like this.
It was so unexpected it made her head spin.
“O-okay.”
“Now get out of bed this instant.”
“Alright.”
If she were feeling just a little bit better, she might’ve handled this differently.
But this situation was entirely outside her imagination.
Ione, overwhelmed, just nodded.
“Then start with some food.”
“……”
Food is power, huh?
She assumed Helena meant, “
eat first, ask questions later.”
Ione was silently impressed.
Still, it felt odd—a lady-in-waiting giving the Grand Duchess orders like that.
If I let this keep happening, I’ll definitely be treated like a pushover.
Ione narrowed her eyes slightly and gathered her composure.
“Ahem. Before that, I think I should bathe. Would you prepare a bath for me?”
She tried to sound dignified, but her voice betrayed her.
Instead of an elegant command, it came out weak and pitiful.
Helena’s frown deepened.
“A sick person taking a bath? Absolutely not. This warm cloth will do just fine. A bath is out of the question.”
Far from noble treatment, it was more like caring for a child.
Helena gently wiped Eione’s face with a warm cloth, her touch too soft to be considered rude.
Ione swallowed hard.
This is bad.
The head maid of the ducal estate was more formidable than she’d expected.
Word that Ione had awakened soon reached Benson, who came to the room.
He examined her carefully and then said,
“Fortunately, there don’t seem to be any lasting issues.”
“See? I told you I was fine,”
Ione said, looking quite pleased.
Why no one had believed her, she couldn’t understand.
They brought her soup without any solid ingredients and wouldn’t even let her step out of bed.
At her words, Helena sighed loudly.
“You’ve been unconscious for several days. It’s only natural we’d be cautious.”
Just as Ione was about to demand a proper meal, her eyes widened.
“Days?”
“Yes, Your Grace. Even after your fever broke, you didn’t wake up. Benson here was deeply worried.”
Ione slowly turned her head toward Benson, neck creaking like a rusty hinge.
“I’m just glad you’re awake,”
Benson said, his voice soft and sincere.
Several days…?
So when Helena yelled at me, it wasn’t scolding, it was genuine worry?
The realization left Ione speechless.
Sure, she’d always had a weak constitution, but this was the first time she’d ever been out cold for
days.
At this rate, she’d be known as some frail invalid—a burden.
That wouldn’t do.
She had to find a way to fix this.
Her mind raced, but all she could think of was to explain herself.
“Actually…”
Ione looked utterly aggrieved as she muttered,
“My stamina’s not great, I’ll admit that—but I was never
this
bad.”
“Of course, of course,”
Helena replied quickly, but it was hard to tell if she meant it.
Something about her tone made Ione want to cry.
“It was a brutal schedule, you know. Maybe His Grace doesn’t understand, but the day I arrived, I came straight from the Clark territory to the capital.”
“Wait—what? From the South?”
“Yes. The royal ladies-in-waiting came at the crack of dawn to take me to the capital. As soon as I arrived, I signed the marriage contract and was immediately sent to the North.”
“You mean… you traveled from Clark to the capital and then to the North all in one day?”
“Yes.”
“……”
Benson and Helena fell silent.
Ione had glossed over the details, but that kind of journey was not just difficult—it was reckless.
She had essentially crossed the entire continent. In one day.
Not even a dragon-blessed duke could handle that unscathed.
Warp magic affected the entire body. It violently shook the mana within a person.
And she didn’t use it once.
She’d done it
twice
.
Why…?
Why was she made to travel under such impossible conditions?