I tried to swallow some water—only to retch again. Erik quickly pressed a fresh towel to my mouth.
“Are you all right?”
“…Do I
look
all right to you?”
If you think so, maybe you need to cultivate your eyesight. And while you’re at it, refine your heart too.
What, you think your pity will last a thousand years? Ten thousand? Even if you end up drained of spirit, coin, and qi, don’t come crying to me. I’m only letting this slide because I’m too sick to deal with anything. If I were in peak form, you’d already be stripped of your coin pouch, your spirit stone pouch, and your dignity.
“…”
I collapsed back into bed. My mouth was sour, my head was spinning, and my dantian churned uneasily.
Erik let out a slow sigh.
“This won’t do.”
“Of course it won’t… If we really went through with a Dao-bound marriage, it would be a calamity in the making.”
And honestly, I’d never even thought about marriage before. The idea that I could have family beyond Phillip and Helena? It felt so… foreign.
I heard Erik rustling about. I cracked one eye open to see a medicinal pill in his hand.
“…I’ll probably just vomit it back up.”
“Exactly.”
“…?”
Erik slid another pillow beneath mine, forcing my upper body into a half-sitting position. I grimaced and shot him a look. He gazed steadily into my eyes and said calmly:
“I’ll administer the medicine myself. Will that be all right?”
All right
? When I’m this sick, would I even care if you poured spiritual tea down my throat while standing on your head?
“I’ll let you sleep once you take it.”
Oh,
now
that’s a good deal.
I nodded weakly, my head pounding like a demonic drum.
Then Erik… popped the pill into
his
mouth.
I was too fevered to ask what he was doing. I just let him gently cradle the back of my head and lift it toward him.
“…?”
His warm, soft tongue pressed gently against my lips, coaxing them open. Something slick passed into my mouth—bitter, vile-tasting, and pungent.
Ugh. This medicine tastes like it came from the cesspool of a demonic beast den.
I grimaced and looked up at him. His crimson eyes met mine.
“…What are you doing?”
“Administering the medicine.”
He said it like it was the most normal thing in the world, his lips glistening faintly.
“Ha… you’re serious…”
You could’ve just crushed the pill and mixed it with tea, you absolute lunatic—
But before I could complain, the effects kicked in. My eyelids grew heavy.
“Ssshh… just sleep.”
His voice was already fading into the distance.
It must’ve been the pill. A fast-acting spiritual sedative.
…So this counts as our second kiss, doesn’t it?
You’ve learned quite well, Erik…
Erik of House Orléans.
I ended up bedridden for three whole days. Considering I usually lie around for a full seven when struck by a common cold, I suppose the medicine worked decently well this time.
Though I remained in the same manor as the Duke during those days, I barely caught sight of him. He no longer presided over family meals, and even when we crossed paths by chance, he refrained from making those thorned remarks that scraped at one’s qi.
…Which only made it more unnerving.
By now, surely even the Duke had learned that Oscar had handed over the rights to the Blue Oak region to Her Highness. And yet, he remained deathly silent.
…Which means he’s scheming again.
Probably working out a method to eliminate not just me, Helena, and Phillip—but Erik too. Then he’ll monopolize the Graveyard of the Merfolk all for himself.
Whatever method he’s planning… the moment it takes shape, will it come to the point where we must truly consider ending the Duke’s cultivation altogether?
If it becomes necessary, I might not hesitate to make that choice either.
It’s been barely two months since I became acquainted with Erik, but I had seen a look in his eyes I’d never forget—cold, deadly, like he could sever someone’s meridians with a single glare. The kind of gaze that didn’t just frighten the soul—it
choked
it.
And that scared me more than I cared to admit. Because somehow, I felt I was the reason his eyes had become that way.
Would everything be resolved if we could reclaim the Graveyard of the Merfolk from the debt cultivators and present it as an offering to Her Highness?
Unlikely. The collateral rights had long been scattered across the South, seized by vicious, greedy profiteers.
…If word leaks that the land in question is the legendary Graveyard of the Merfolk…
Then chaos would descend.
Some of those loan cultivators are even worse than the Witch. Those monsters would sell their sect brothers if it meant an extra spirit jade or two. If they caught even the faintest scent of value, they'd resort to anything—kidnapping me, Phillip, or Helena and offering us up as bargaining chips to the Duke included.
Her Highness once said that Emily’s journal, though it described the Duke as a "monster," lacked the clarity and proof needed to be used as direct evidence.
“Our land… and yet we can’t even move freely upon it…”
I murmured, pressing my still-warm forehead with the back of my hand.
Erik frowned as he overheard me.
“You should be resting.”
I was sprawled out on the bed when his voice reminded me that he was still here—in my chamber. I sat up hastily, nearly kicking the blanket off the bed. Erik clicked his tongue like a grumpy old cultivator scolding a junior disciple.
“Stop throwing the blanket off. No wonder your internal energy hasn’t stabilized yet.”
Why are you
still
here? Not just today—why this whole time?
Erik had been by my side all three days. I have no idea when he slept. Whether I was unconscious, sipping soup, or opening my eyes for just a moment, he was always there—his robes slightly loosened, sleeves rolled up, a book open in his lap. When he sensed my qi stir, he’d lower his reading glasses and—
"You’re awake?"
…ask in that same gentle tone.
“…Since when did you start wearing glasses?”
I stared at the beguiling accessory perched on his sharp nose. Without them, Erik looked like a regal spirit beast—aloof, dangerous, the kind of man who’d strike fear into even a high-level demon cultivator. With them, he looked like a clean white scroll, blank and untouched—provoking an urge in others to defile it with ink.
In short…
“Spectacles suit handsome cultivators best.”
“Since I was fifteen. I injured my eyes during blade training—small text’s been harder to read ever since.”
“But you don’t wear them most of the time.”
“They’re not necessary for daily life.”
“…Pity…”
“…?”
Erik furrowed his brow.
If your everyday life
did
require them, I could’ve seen glasses-wearing Erik all the time…
I finally tore my gaze away from his glasses and stared at Eric’s lips—red and delicate, like the petals of a blood lotus. Those damn seductive lips...
Three days ago, we had our second kiss. Ever since, just the sight of those lips has stirred up a thirst in me so fierce, it feels like I’ll go mad. But Eric? He hasn’t said a single word about it.
Instead, he lingers by my side, nagging constantly, serving me tea, sneaking into my quarters at dawn—without even alerting my attendant, Nina—to feed me medicinal pills...
He didn’t even catch my cold.
Not only did he not fall ill, but every day he sits there with flawless jade-like skin, upright and composed, reading calmly beside me. He doesn’t sleep, doesn’t eat, yet he’s always nearby. Unscathed. Perfectly healthy. And outrageously beautiful.
I was so baffled, I ended up asking the steward why Eric seemed so absurdly well. The man blinked in surprise before replying:
“You don’t know?”
“Know... what?”
I thought—Aha! There must be some secret technique behind this!
“Young Master has always been like that,”
he said.
“...?”
“He was born that way. Said he regenerates his qi just by breathing...”
Ah, right. Of course...
They’re all insane. Every last one of them. Even the people around Eric are strange.
Feeling restless under the weight of Eric’s beauty, I reached up to touch my own lips. Feverish and dry from being bedridden, they were cracked and peeling.
Absentmindedly picking at the flaking skin, I found myself once again staring at Eric’s lips.
Damn it... I feel like a depraved cultivator obsessed with dual cultivation...
Why did he feed me the elixir
with his mouth
? If he wasn’t trying to seduce me through some underhanded scheme, then what other reason could there possibly be?
While I was caught in that spiral of thought, Eric suddenly grabbed my hand.
“...?”
Then, with his free hand, he gently brushed my lips.
What... what is happening?!
Eyes wide, I clenched the blanket tightly.
Was this... was this about to be our third kiss? Why is my heart racing like this? What exactly am I expecting?
Eric’s crimson eyes lingered on my lips, unwavering.
Should I... close my eyes? Just as I was sinking into that degenerate thought, Eric clicked his tongue in annoyance.
“Stop picking at them. You’re making your lips bleed.”
With a look of disapproval, he wiped away the blood with his fingers, then handed me a small jade container—healing salve.
Nagging. Again with the nagging.
I stared bitterly at the salve and muttered under my breath, “Aren’t you going to apply it for me?”
Eric let out a dry chuckle. “What are you talking about?”
“Tch.”
So you’re
not
going to do it, huh? Three days ago you fed me medicine mouth-to-mouth without asking, and now you won’t even dab on some ointment?
Hmph.
Pouting, I smeared the salve on my lips myself—rather aggressively. Eric watched the entire process like a stern sect elder, still lecturing.
“Make sure to cover the edges. Like this—mmm-ahhh.”
“...Mmm-ahhh.”
“No, wider—like
this
...”
No matter how I looked at it, I couldn’t make sense of this. Was this truly the behavior of a man who made an official proposal just three days ago?
...Would it really be so bad if things stayed like this?
That is, if that could even be called a proposal in the first place.
As Eric returned to the table by the window and resumed reading, I stared at him, lost in thought.
The very notion that Erik had proposed to me… felt strange.
After all, we’re already married.
A fraudulent marriage, yes, but a marriage nonetheless.
So rather than saying he
proposed
, it’s more accurate to say… he simply
wished to stay like this
.
Just like this—
When the Duke is finally hauled away for his crimes—whether for embezzling the national treasury or for taking lives—and Erik is left with no family ties whatsoever, I’d remain by his side.
Just like now.
I clutched the rustling quilt close and pressed my cheek into the pillow.
Like some stray kitten Erik had picked up off the streets, I’d spend my days lazing about the manor…
While Erik, basking in sunlight at my side, would continue to sit there all noble and lovely, just like always…
Huh?
That doesn’t… sound so bad, actually?
Maybe goose feathers really
are
the best after all…
I was rolling lazily under the covers, wrapped in a warmth that numbed thought, when I heard a knock at the door.
“Young Mistress, are you awake?”
“…?”
Like a melted ice cream trying to reform itself through sheer will, I groaned and slowly, almost miraculously, sat up. My body still ached faintly with lingering fever.
Just then, Erik opened the door. Nina, standing outside, widened her eyes in surprise—clearly unaware he was still in the room.
“If you two keep sticking together like that, won’t the cold spread?”
I flailed weakly from where I sat atop the bed, like a half-thawed dessert fighting to retain its shape.
“It’s fine. Just breathing near him boosts my spiritual energy.”
“…Pardon?”
Nina looked flustered. Erik, meanwhile, shot me a sharp look, brow furrowing like a righteous sect leader scolding a mischievous junior.
“Who told you that nonsense?”
“The steward.”
Erik’s broad shoulders twitched.
“…Did the steward say anything else?”
He asked cautiously.
“Huh? Like what?”
I muttered, and Erik shook his head. Nina, watching our exchange like a silent observer, raised her hand when she saw an opening.
“P-pardon, but there’s a guest here to see you.”
“Ugh… If it’s an elder—bald elder, old elder, nagging elder—or just
any
elder, tell them I’m sick and to kindly get lost!”
I waved a hand in dismissal as I slumped back into the bedding. Erik cleared his throat and stared off into the distance, pretending not to hear my direct and brutal style of speech.
Sure, dealing with the pompous, swarming elders could be entertaining—they were easily baited into traps, and the flustered looks they wore when cornered were comedic gold.
But not today.
I’m too tired for that.
I began melting into the bed again…
“A-ah, no. It’s not an elder. Madam Helena Wedgwood is here.”
“…?”
My eyes, which had been preparing to slide shut again, snapped open.
With my eyes wide, I blurted, “Wait—my mom? I mean…”
I took a breath, adjusted my tone, and tried to speak like a refined lady.
“…What brings my mother here?”
“She said she heard you were unwell. She’s brought a large bundle of nourishing medicine and is currently preparing it in the kitchen. She’s in the drawing room with the Duke. Shall I escort you down?”
…What?
With
who
?
I shot out of bed like my soul had returned to my body.
“I’m going! I’m
definitely
going down!”
✵
✵
✵
Duke’s Estate – First Floor
“It’s been a while, Helena.”
The Duke’s crimson eyes gleamed like rubies under the sunlight.
Though they were formally broken off, it wasn’t as though their affections had withered. Yet in his gaze, there wasn’t a hint of lingering emotion.
The Duke truly was a different breed from the typical clinging cultivators Helena had encountered in her past.
“Oh, but you mustn’t call me Helena anymore, Your Grace. The proper address now is
Madam Helena
,” she said with a composed smile.
Helena smiled sweetly as she looked at him. But in her eyes, there wasn’t a shred of emotion left.
...There was never any emotion to begin with.
Helena scoffed inwardly. She had agreed to the engagement for the sake of wealth. As for the Duke...
Why had the Duke done it?
That was what truly piqued Helena’s curiosity.
Three days ago, when the Duke’s elite guards ambushed her, Philip, and the witch, Helena had begun to question everything.
Why would the Duke do such a thing? Was it because he despised Emeline? Was it vengeance for tarnishing the reputation of the Valdeck Clan?
Even if that were the case, was his hatred truly so deep as to warrant such drastic measures? After all, his actions had brought more disgrace upon the Valdeck name than anything Emeline ever did...
What confused her even more was what happened afterward—when knights loyal to Eric suddenly arrived and shielded Helena, Philip, and the witch. It was as though Eric had foreseen the Duke’s ambush and sent his men at precisely the right moment.
And so, her conclusion...
Helena narrowed her eyes.
The Duke and Eric are not on good terms. And Emeline... she's at the heart of it.
“A noble like me having to use honorifics for a lowborn commoner—it’s rather distasteful,” the Duke sneered, raising his teacup, one corner of his mouth curling in disdain.
Lowborn commoner.
The words rolled off his tongue with such ease, but Helena had heard them so often that they now felt as familiar as her own name. She even found herself oddly comforted by them.
All those years living under a false name as Lady Wedgwood—constantly watching her back, worried that the nobility would sniff out her roots. Some of the less-informed nobles still assumed Helena had been born to blue-blooded lineage.
“Good,” Helena said, her voice calm. “Then I suppose I no longer have to play noble in front of you, Your Grace.”
“…What do you mean by that?” the Duke asked, his brows knotting in suspicion.
Helena simply shrugged. “I mean you don’t get to have things your way, Valdeck.”
She stared straight into the Duke’s eyes, her gaze sharp and unyielding.
Chapter 94