Second Month (3)

Alicia waved her hand, as if to say it had just been a joke.

“When did His Grace fall asleep?”

“Not long ago.”

“Since everyone got soaked on the way here, I’m sure he’ll let us rest for just a bit, right? While the maids dry off, I’ll just take a quick look at his face.”

At Alicia’s words, Henrik could only offer an awkward smile.

“It’s not good to stay in wet clothes on a cold day… but His Grace’s mood is… unpredictable…”

The Baron and Baroness of Rens were usually precise in everything.

It was rare for them to hesitate when speaking.

Alicia found it odd.

Henrik, as Reichardt’s closest aide, should be moving efficiently while the Grand Duke was ill.

Yet his attitude now suggested he was reluctant to let anyone near the Duke.

Alicia had only said she wanted to see his face out of curiosity.

A man known as a devil for surviving stabbings and arrow wounds without scars—being sick didn’t quite fit.

It was a slightly twisted sense of curiosity about what a sick version of him looked like.

But now, something about this atmosphere felt off, and Alicia felt she had to check if Reichardt truly was ill.

It didn’t seem like he’d been attacked or poisoned.

But the odd demeanor of his people made it impossible for her to walk away.

She gestured to Henrik as if telling him to lead the way.

“Lady Alicia. To be honest… I offended His Grace and was sent away.”

“I’ll go in alone. Just to see his face.”

“If you insist, my lady, how could I stop you? I’ll escort you.”

Henrik, who had mildly resisted, suddenly changed his tone and took the lead.

Alicia followed Henrik and signaled Daisy to rest.

Daisy, Annie, and Liz watched proudly as Alicia fulfilled her role as a proper fiancée.

Connie, who usually shared their views, wore an unusually uneasy expression.

Just as Henrik said, Reichardt was asleep.

Not only him—the entire Breguet House felt asleep.

There were no attendants serving him, no knights delivering reports, no guards in sight.

Henrik opened the bedroom door with a reverence that even stilled his breathing.

It made Alicia wonder—just how sensitive was Reichardt when he was sick?

The door opened silently.

Henrik simply pointed to indicate the direction.

He said nothing like “this way” or “please enter.”

Alicia nodded in acknowledgment and walked quietly inside.

She had vaguely expected the Grand Duke’s bedroom to be vast and somber.

It was indeed unimaginably large.

And yet, every section—places for personal attendants, receiving guests, a private tea table—was beautifully arranged.

Beyond a drawn curtain lay the sleeping quarters.

There, Reichardt lay asleep on an elegant, ornate bed.

The bed was overly luxurious.

Even so, it was the man sleeping in it who captured all the attention.

No matter how many times she saw him, she never got used to it. His face left her amazed each time.

His features were so sculpted he seemed more statue than human, and she had assumed he would sleep the same way.

But he was human after all.

Exhausted from illness, a sheen of cold sweat coated his face.

His lips were cracked and dry, his pallor clear.

He breathed laboriously through a pale face.

So he had times like this, too.

Alicia took out a handkerchief and gently wiped his face.

As she touched his skin, the cold shocked her.

Only then did she realize—the room was freezing.

Aside from the entry hall, no fires were lit in the entire house.

For a patient’s room, it was unnaturally cold.

Even if Reichardt became irritable when sick, was it normal to leave the fireplace unlit?

There was no trace of a doctor’s recent visit.

Nor any sign of someone caring for the patient.

Had she not heard about his condition in advance, she might have called servants to be interrogated.

But it could have been Reichardt’s order, so she didn’t act recklessly.

Knowing it was inappropriate, Alicia still placed her hand on his forehead.

His strained face relaxed slightly.

At first, she thought it was her imagination.

But watching his ghostly pale complexion slowly improve made her realize it was real.

She remembered the day she first met Reichardt.

He had looked unwell even then and had reached out to her.

Recalling that moment, she carefully placed her hand over his.

Could he have a constitution that healed with human touch?

Then why had no one stayed by his side?

One hand on his forehead, the other holding his hand, Alicia looked around.

Seeing his face become more at ease, she quietly withdrew.

She moved to the fireplace and lit it with minimal sound, closed the curtains tightly, and left the room.

What a strange patient.

The sky remained dark all day.

Rain never stopped falling.

Occasionally, thunder shook the earth.

Alicia gave up the thought of going outside and settled in to read.

When she paused from reading, she wrote letters to her family and employees.

When memories surfaced, she jotted down important events and information by date in a way only she could understand.

She went to bed at a decent hour.

Though Reichardt had told her not to leave the Tech House, Alicia still planned to visit him again tomorrow.

She had even scheduled a visit.

The Rens family, who cared for the Grand Duke, seemed puzzled when Alicia said she’d pay a sick visit.

They were even more shocked when she mentioned lighting the fireplace because the room was dark.

Henrik and Connie asked in turns if she had any trouble getting it started.

When she replied nothing had happened, they looked deeply moved and said it would be too gracious of her to return tomorrow.

Night had fallen.

Listening to the rain tapping on the window, Alicia drifted to sleep.

Outside, storms and drizzles alternated.

When the rain thinned—

Creak.

The front door of the Tech House quietly opened.

Bare feet climbed the stone steps in haste.

Though careless, the rain-soaked feet made little noise.

Wet footprints soaked the floor behind them.

Reichardt staggered down the dark corridor without falling.

Unlike the man from yesterday, he left tracks and soft sounds behind, moving on instinct alone.

He headed directly toward the room where the owner of the Tech House slept.

Grasping the doorknob, he recalled what he had said two nights ago.

Cursing his own ignorance from days earlier, Reichardt turned the knob without hesitation.

It turned smoothly.

The scent of books, paper, and ink lingered in the quiet room.

Alicia was asleep.

Seeing her sleeping face from the doorway, Reichardt paused for the first time since leaving his room.

His body ached with fire, a thousand stabbing knives, and the contradictory chill of ice.

Even struggling to breathe through unbearable pain, he couldn’t reach out toward the bed.

But neither could he go back.

“……”

Alicia sensed something in her sleep and opened her eyes.

But drowsiness quickly made her lids fall again.

Just as she began drifting off, she realized the door was open and sat up.

Unaware, she looked down past the edge of the bed—

—and was startled by what she saw.

“Your Grace?”

Reichardt was kneeling on the floor beside the bed, his face pale.

He was completely soaked, likely from the rain.

“Alicia, your hand…”

Reichardt exhaled with pain and agony, pleading softly.

Though he had approached the bed, he still kept a considerable distance from the headboard.

“Your Grace.”

Startled and confused, Alicia climbed down from the bed and took the hand he reached out with.

As their hands met, Reichardt let out a long breath.

His face, slightly freed from anguish, looked at Alicia.

In his trembling amber eyes, Alicia saw her own reflection and gripped his hand more firmly.

“Don’t let go.”

The desperate words puzzled her.

“……”

Alicia nodded.

She couldn’t look away from his face, fixed solely on her.

She couldn’t think of anything to say.

A strange illusion that she could do nothing took hold of her.

“I’m sorry.”

Reichardt apologized solemnly.

“Your Grace.”

Alicia was bewildered by the very presence of the man who had suddenly come to her in the middle of the night.

She wanted to ask what was going on.

“Don’t let go.”

Reichardt whispered, his voice full of desperation.

He looked like he would cry if she did.

Alicia nodded again.

The man had always tried to keep some distance from her.

It felt like she could tease him with a few sharp words, but she couldn’t.

The way he pleaded was too sincere—there was no room for teasing or rejection.

Seeing Alicia’s nod, Reichardt let out a sigh of relief and offered a faint smile.

With a heavy breath of fatigue, he slowly collapsed onto her.

“Y-Your Grace…?”

Alicia didn’t let go, accepting his weight with her whole body as he fell forward.

His freezing body lay still on top of her.

The cold spread from his body, and Alicia could hear the steady thump of his heartbeat against her ear.

She stayed frozen for a long time, listening to the sound.

The moment Reichardt opened his eyes, he regretted it. And at the same time, he didn’t.

The pain in front of him was too intense to feel only regret.

Yet the comfort of Alicia’s hand had been so sweet.

Morning sunlight streamed through the windows.

The ceiling within his field of vision was made of beautifully grained wood.

The Tech House had been built in preparation for the Grand Duchess to bear heirs.

It was decorated with vivid paintings from the very first room.

Most of the ceilings had lavish images of flowers or skies painted on them, making the space strikingly ornate.

Only the study, with its understated wooden ceiling, had such a plain design.

“……”

Reichardt realized he was lying on the long sofa bench in the study.

Alicia’s room was at the very back of the second floor, and the study was in a far corner on the first floor.

It was surprising that he had been moved here—but not impossible.

He could easily picture Alicia carrying him over her shoulder and bringing him to the study.

His fiancée was a bold lady.

Reichardt relished the stillness in his mind.

In this unbelievable reality, he let the peace wash over him just a little longer.

It all felt unreal.

For the first time since he was fourteen, the tormenting pain had been completely subdued.

Reichardt turned his head, looking for Alicia.

She was sitting beside the bench, holding his hand firmly, sound asleep.

His kind-hearted fiancée was also dutiful.

All the fireplaces throughout the study were lit.