Chapter 55
Having only just regained her senses, Hestia was completely confused. She couldn’t even grasp what was happening right now.
“Surely you know that I don’t allow just anyone into my bedchamber.”
At Terhan’s firm words, Hestia blinked. Then… did that mean she wasn’t “just anyone”?
“Then, I’ll just… take my leave.”
After agonizing over Terhan’s meaning for a while, Hestia eventually gave up trying to understand and tried to quietly slip out from under the blanket.
“I told you before, you can’t leave until you’ve finished eating.”
Once again, Terhan blocked her escape. What on earth was she supposed to do? Still, she had no intention of meekly opening her mouth like a baby bird while he spoon-fed her. That was absolutely humiliating.
“So what I mean is, I’ll—”
“Hurry up.”
Resigned, Hestia reached out to take the spoon herself, determined to eat the soup on her own—but it was no use.
“Your Highness, this goes against imperial protocol.”
“Hm. Well, if you truly wish to remain in my chamber that long, I won’t stop you…”
Even the appeal to law and custom, her last line of defense, didn’t work on him. Instead, Terhan dragged out his words with a faint, unsettling smile.
The look in his eyes was unyielding—stronger than ever. No matter what she said, he wasn’t going to back down.
Sigh…
In the end, with a soft sigh—
“Ah—”
Hestia squeezed her eyes shut and reluctantly opened her mouth. She couldn’t possibly bear to face him in such a shameful situation.
The low chuckle that rumbled by her ear was enough to set her cheeks on fire.
“T-that’s enough now.”
After only three spoonfuls, Hestia shook her head stubbornly, declaring defeat.
“…Very well. Since it’s your first meal since waking, it’s best not to overdo it.”
It was nothing more than thin gruel, but after such a long period of fasting, forcing more could have made her ill. Reluctantly, Terhan set the spoon aside.
Clatter.
At the sound of the dish being moved away, Hestia finally dared to open her tightly shut eyes.
“…”
And found herself trapped inside the raw, aching gold of his gaze.
Looking into Terhan’s eyes stirred emotions she couldn’t name. Gentle sorrow, tender yearning—awkward and unfamiliar feelings blended together and pressed against her. It was strange.
In the end, it was Hestia who looked away first.
“Why… why am I here?”
Though her body had already recovered, Terhan’s stubborn insistence had kept her in bed even after she’d finished eating.
This was clearly the chamber attached to his own bedroom. And since no one else would dare come and go from a prince’s private quarters, the only person she could ask about the situation was Terhan.
Suspicion flickered in her eyes as she studied him, trying to discern his true intentions.
As if he had caught that very thought, Terhan gave a small smile before speaking slowly.
“Five—no, six days ago. Early in the morning, Sonya went to Sir Millan. She said you were unwell and asked if she should call for a physician.”
“Ah…”
As his explanation continued, the suspicion in Hestia’s eyes began to fade.
If anything, she ought to thank him. Not only had he concealed her presence, he had sent errands and even made excuses on her behalf.
On top of that, he had summoned the imperial physician for treatment and, unthinkably, had been looking after her himself.
Thinking it over now, it was obvious who truly deserved suspicion. Hestia herself.
No matter how she looked at it, she was the one who seemed suspicious.
And yet, she couldn’t stop another question from rising.
Who was it that found me?
Her last memory was parting ways with Hannah and turning down the corridor. She didn’t recall ever reaching her room.
Terhan had heard she was sick from Sonya, who had gone to Millan. Which meant Sonya hadn’t been the one to move her.
It had been under moonlight’s reign when she collapsed. If Sonya had discovered her coughing blood, she would have caused an uproar and fetched a physician immediately, even in the dead of night.
Then who was it…?
Just as deep confusion settled into her eyes—
“Now… may I ask something?”
Terhan’s voice pulled her back. She turned to him and gave a small nod. Of course he wouldn’t leave things unquestioned.
She braced herself for what was coming.
“Why were you unwell?”
At his question, her eyes narrowed, weighing his intent.
How much did he know? How much should she reveal?
Had Hannah told him?
Did he know she had been poisoned?
But there was no hint of testing or prying in his tone.
Besides, she had told Hannah herself that she had only gone out on an errand, so there was no way the two of them had spoken about it.
Hannah, after all, was a spy herself—what would she gain from speaking?
“…It’s a chronic condition.”
In the end, Hestia chose a lie over truth.
She studied his expression closely, but his face remained as unreadable as ever. She couldn’t tell whether he believed her or not.
Lowering her gaze, she spoke again in a soft murmur.
“Every few years, I fall ill like this, without any reason. That’s why… I’ve had to keep myself hidden all this time. It’s been so long since it happened that I thought it was over, but…”
Her words carried the calm resignation of one who had already accepted everything. She even added a bitter, self-mocking smile.
Lifting her eyes again, Hestia met Terhan’s gaze.
“I’m truly sorry for worrying you. And… thank you, Your Highness.”
She bowed her head deeply.
Swish—
Her golden-brown hair spilled forward like a curtain, veiling her face.
It was a plausible excuse, one that anyone would accept. A perfect explanation for “Reina Verner.”
But Terhan knew better. He knew she was lying.
Because the woman before him wasn’t Reina Verner. She was Hestia.
He said nothing for a long time. Yet there was no suspicion in his eyes.
Instead—
“…You know I have many enemies.”
His lips curved faintly as he began, the words seemingly out of nowhere.
Almost as if, no matter what Hestia had answered, he had intended to say this next.
Slowly, she nodded, though questions stirred within her.
Why was he suddenly bringing this up?
He must have noticed her wary gaze, but still he continued at an unhurried pace.
“Even so, I will never give up the fight for the crown. And because of that, the opposition will only grow stronger.”
What was he trying to say?
Hestia kept her eyes on him, and he did the same, his gaze fixed unwaveringly on her.
“All my life, I’ve faced countless dangers. For example—”
His voice was as calm as his expression.
“Threats of poisoning. Assassins. Those petty things are far too many to count.”
The way he spoke of such frightening matters so matter-of-factly unsettled her.
And strangely, the unease carried a sense of déjà vu. She furrowed her brow.
“And even now—”
Uncharacteristically, he stopped mid-sentence, licking his dry lips.
For just a moment, unease flickered in his eyes. Then, as if to reassure her, he softened his expression again and finished:
“I am still under threat of being poisoned.”
“…What?”
Hestia’s eyes flew wide. Her mouth parted in shock.
How could he say something so terrifying in such a calm voice?
And yet, even as he spoke of it, his gaze held concern—not for himself, but for someone else.
For whom else, if not her?
After all, from beginning to end, his golden eyes had held only her.
“The poison was meant for me… and yet you were the one who collapsed. Ha…”
Suddenly, he raked a hand through his hair, letting out a short, bitter laugh.
“Could it be that you took the poison meant for me? That because of me, you too—”
For the first time, his expression wavered, twisted by self-reproach and pain. He bit down on his lower lip, face contorting.
Hestia could guess the words he couldn’t bring himself to finish. And that was why she didn’t know how to respond.
He wasn’t wrong. The intended target had been Terhan.
But it had been her own choice not to let him take it. Her own choice to drink it herself.
So there was no reason for him to blame himself.
Terhan’s gaze dropped to the floor, heavy with restless tension. Whether bound by the fear of what had already happened, or the anxiety of what was yet to come, she couldn’t tell.
Seeing a side of him so unlike the composed prince she knew, Hestia slowly released her grip on the blanket and lifted her hand.
“…Don’t frown.”
She gently smoothed out the deep crease between his brows with her fingertip.
It was unthinkable for a mere maid to touch a prince’s face without permission. And yet, right now, it felt strangely natural. As if this was the only thing she could do.
Maybe it was because of that déjà vu—that faint memory of someone from long ago.
He didn’t feel unfamiliar to her.
He felt like someone she had known for a very long time.
Startled by the unexpected warmth of her touch, Terhan’s golden eyes trembled faintly.
“You know what they say—that even approaching fortune can slip away if you frown too much. Didn’t someone you know tell you that once, too?”
Hestia gave him a small smile, as if to reassure him in return.
Just as he had once smiled softly to reassure her.
