WHM | Chapter 42

~Chapter 42~

Voices murmured from inside the room.

“Milady, should I call the physician again?”

“No. It’s already so late. I’m fine. It just hurts a little. An ice pack will do.”

“Still…”

“Go on, get some rest yourself.”

“If you need me, please call right away.”

Luckily, Eileen’s maid’s room was on the same floor. Because of that, Diana, who was sitting on the stairs, avoided being caught.

But she’d definitely lost her chance to go inside Eileen’s room.

That’s why she chose to brew tea instead.

I’ve twisted my ankle plenty of times myself.

For Cedric, getting injured here and there was practically routine. Because of that, he always kept a stash of dried rihin root—an herb known to dull pain.

Diana peeked into her little storeroom, which she had slowly filled. What started as a place to store herbs had turned into a proper collection of medicinal ingredients.

“…I can’t just hand her this to chew, can I?”

That would’ve worked fastest. Cedric, in fact, often just gnawed on the roots himself, too impatient to bother making tea.

But she couldn’t dump that ordeal on someone trying it for the first time. And honestly, giving someone a bare root would just look ridiculous.

Let’s just call this an apology and be done with it.

So she boiled water carefully, preparing the tea with unusual attention.

Of course, she told herself there was no real heart in it—just a matter of conscience.

Probably.

***

The next morning, Mary spotted the empty teacup that definitely hadn’t been there the night before. After hearing Eileen’s explanation, she was horrified.

“You drank it? Without even knowing what was in it?”

“It actually helped. I slept really well.”

“Milady!”

“Diana’s not a bad kid. Cedric isn’t either.”

“You talk about her like she’s ten, not fifteen.”

Hmm. Maybe that was true.

Eileen silently agreed with Mary’s sharp words.

Perhaps she had been treating both Cedric and Diana like children, forgiving them too easily. Their poor judgment and mistakes—she brushed them off as if they were just growing pains.

“…Am I being too generous?”

“Of course! You should be harsher, milady. You even lost a brand-new dress—taken by Baron Talon’s daughter!”

“Honestly, I never liked that dress. I never wore it once. If someone else enjoys it, then it’s good for the dress too.”

Mary grew frustrated at Eileen’s calm tone, as she lay on the bed flipping through a book.

“That dress was expensive.”

“Didn’t Cedric buy me a dress once? I’ll count it as replacing that one.”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“Then I’ll just ask him for another.”

If Cedric had any sense of shame, he’d buy her a few dresses anyway. He’d stubbornly resisted to yield over Diana’s issue, but in the end, he had softened.

That alone meant he owed her compensation for everything that had happened.

“This isn’t about dresses.”

“Then what is it about?”

“It’s about Lord Cedric not putting you first.”

“Does being his fiancée mean I must be his priority?”

“Of course! Don’t you want that?”

Shouldn’t I want Cedric’s full attention? To be the most important to him?

That question left Eileen quiet.

Wasn’t there only one thing I really wanted?

Yes—what she wanted was his respect. She had thought things between them would remain neat, distant, and formal from start to finish.

But she had overlooked something: she had come to truly worry about Cedric.

“…I do wish he’d take me seriously when I speak.”

That much was genuine. Cedric had become a special person to her, and that wouldn’t change.

She would never forget the moment he took her away from the Cassiar family.

If there are moments that let a person live—that was one of them.

Since then, she had felt like she owed him. A debt of the heart. One she didn’t need to repay, but still couldn’t ignore.

“…And I wish he’d stop trying to shoulder everything alone.”

“That’s exactly what a husband and wife should want from each other, isn’t it?”

“Is it?”

If that was true, maybe she was asking too much of him already.

Knock, knock.

A sudden knock broke her train of thought.

Eileen almost told them to come in, but stopped. She had heard that same uneven knocking rhythm once already today.

“…Diana. Is that you?”

“…Really?”

As soon as she spoke, there was a clatter of something being set down, followed by hurried footsteps running away.

Mary, standing beside her, looked surprised. Even from the knock alone, Eileen had recognized who it was.

“Open the door. I’m sure she left something again.”

“…Another tea?”

“Looks like a different kind this time.”

On the tray Mary brought in was another cup of tea—this time a simple, ordinary herbal blend.

A pale yellow liquid, gently fragrant with flowers.

“Mmm… smells nice. Try it.”

“Why does she keep leaving things like this and running away?”

“Maybe she’s too shy to face me directly.”

There was no explanation, but it was probably just a tea meant to soothe and calm.

As Eileen blew on the cup, the pleasant scent drifted up and really did make her feel better.

“You’re going to drink that too?”

“She went to the trouble of bringing it. I can’t just throw it away.”

Eileen only smiled, amused—as if she were observing some curious little phenomenon.

***

In the days that followed, Diana kept bringing food.

It started with tea…

One day, Eileen looked at a little dish piled high with cookies. The sight of Diana’s quick, darting movements reminded her of a squirrel busily storing nuts, and she burst out laughing.

“Why are you laughing?”

“Just thought of the person who brought these.”

Ironically, Cedric was the one sitting across from her, eating most of them.

But her laughter faded quickly as she listened to the news he shared.

Leaning back against the chair, rubbing her forehead, she sighed.

“…He really fell? That’s ridiculous.”

“It’s what I heard. Viscount Rotner slipped and got injured.”

“From this little bit of snow?”

She pointed at the window. The snow outside was thin, already melting under the sun. Hardly enough to make the ground slippery.

Cedric also looked a little doubtful.

“…Maybe he’s just not used to snow.”

“There’s snow in the capital too.”

“Either way, he slipped and broke his leg. He won’t be moving for a while.”

Cedric’s expression turned serious as he gestured toward her ankle.

“That’s why you should be careful too. Don’t walk around alone just because it doesn’t hurt much.”

“I’m fine now. The real problem is Viscount Rotner, not me.”

This meant the trade deal between the Arwyn Kingdom and Rotner’s trading company would collapse.

“Prince Theorn making a wasted trip is an outcome neither side wants.”

“Exactly. That’s why we were considering the opposite—Prince Theorn and I going to the village where Rotner’s people are regrouping.”

“…That’s not a bad idea.”

As long as Cedric leaving the castle wasn’t a huge issue.

Her face grew troubled at that thought, but Cedric reassured her.

“Don’t worry. Someone trustworthy will guard the castle while I’m gone.”

“Who?”

“My uncle.”

He said it like the most reliable thing in the world, but Eileen felt a strange tension creep in.

“…Your uncle is coming here.”

“He usually visits every few years. This time, the timing worked out. I asked him to stay a little longer.”

“When will he arrive?”

“In a day or two, most likely.”

“…I see.”

Eileen tapped her fingers against the armrest, deep in thought. She had never run into him before, so she hadn’t paid him much attention.

But now things were different.

Before he arrived, she’d have to look into him—this uncle of Cedric’s, the one they called “the Baron of Demicalon.”