Chapter 24
“Not at all. I’m just glad I could help!”
When Sharie beamed, the kitchen assistant beside her stepped forward hesitantly.
“Would you take a look at my cut too, milady? I nicked myself earlier while cleaning fish…”
“Of course.”
One by one, Sharie tended to the kitchen staff who approached with small scrapes and cuts.
The flow of mana, which at first had felt vague and elusive, grew clearer with each spell she cast.
What struck her as strange was that, though she was doing this purely for her own “practice,” everyone smiled warmly and thanked her as if she’d done them a great favor.
“Thank you, milady!”
The feeling was… unsettling.
All her life, since being born into the rabbit clan, she had been seen as unnecessary—by everyone.
Yet here, at this moment, people were smiling at her with genuine gratitude, as if she meant something.
It should have made her happy, but instead her stomach churned.
When she’d finished treating them, she hurriedly left the kitchen.
Her heart was pounding wildly—perhaps from doing something she wasn’t accustomed to.
Strange…
It wasn’t her imagination. She had no injury at all, yet she felt light-headed, almost as if she were suffering from blood loss.
She pressed a hand to her throbbing temple, her steps faltering until she stopped completely.
Her vision blurred.
Something’s wrong…
The dizziness intensified the moment she realized something was happening to her body.
Her sight went black.
When Sharie opened her eyes again, she was lying in bed.
She blinked, unable to make sense of her surroundings.
“Finally awake.”
She stared up blankly at a man’s face she had never seen look this way before—Kaisa’s face, but stripped of all warmth.
Since their marriage, had she ever seen him like this? No smile, no gentleness—only a cold gaze fixed on her.
She froze, then scrambled to make sense of the situation.
Why am I here?
She remembered walking down the castle corridor…
“You,” he said, his low voice answering the question in her head.
“You used healing magic until you collapsed from mana exhaustion.”
And just like that, she realized what she had done.
Mana exhaustion—when one pushes beyond their natural reserves of mana, overusing it until the body begins to fail. In the mildest case, it caused internal damage; at worst, it could shorten one’s life… or end it.
Of course, Sharie knew the theory. She’d never imagined that a few simple healing spells could take her to that point.
I only felt a little tired and dizzy…
That was why she hadn’t linked her symptoms to mana exhaustion at all.
“Why,” he bit out, leaning against the bedpost with his arms crossed, “did you use magic you’ve barely learned, without permission?”
There was no excuse—it was clearly her fault.
If he asked why, the only honest answer would be because I was foolish.
Her palms dampened with sweat. A chill ran down her spine.
She pushed herself up into a sitting position but kept her head bowed, unable to meet his eyes.
“I… I…”
The words stuck in her throat.
She didn’t know how Kaisa took her silence, but it was unlikely he saw it favorably.
After a long, heavy pause, he exhaled.
“You… honestly…” His tone was that of someone speaking to a hopeless case.
Her chest tightened.
I can’t deny it—I made a huge mistake.
As the guarantee of a political marriage, her life was not her own to risk. If she had died from mana exhaustion, the peace treaty between their peoples could have shattered, leading to war.
Her thoughtlessness could have caused a disaster.
She should have been apologizing, but she couldn’t lift her head.
I’m… too afraid.
If those golden eyes—always so gentle—had truly changed…
If he now looked at her with the same scorn as her grandfather…
She had no idea what she would do.
The silence pressed down on her.
Then—
A sharp knock rattled the door.
She started to get out of bed, but Kaisa stopped her and went to the door himself.
“My lord… forgive my presumption, but I wish to speak.”
It was the head cook, her voice tight with nerves.
“My apologies, my lord. We tried to stop her…” one of the guards murmured awkwardly.
The cook was well-known to the guards—Sharie often visited the kitchen when hungry. And with the middle-aged woman standing there in only an apron, they couldn’t simply throw her out.
“Is the lady all right?”
The cook peered past Kaisa into the room, her face brightening with relief at the sight of Sharie sitting on the bed.
“Speak,” Kaisa said.
He stepped into the space between them, his back blocking the cook’s view. Even his back looked cold.
The cook flinched at the atmosphere but held her ground.
“In the short time I’ve known her, I can say the lady is truly kind-hearted… I believe she used healing magic on us out of compassion. I understand your concern, my lord, but… I ask that you show her mercy.”
Her voice trembled, but it carried clearly to Sharie’s ears.
“And?”
Kaisa leaned against the doorway, arms crossed, the muscles in his forearms standing out like corded steel.
The cook faltered under his gaze.
“That… that’s all.”
“I see. Then leave.”
The cook hesitated, then stepped back.
When Kaisa closed the door and returned to the bedside, he said,
“You heard her? The cook just pleaded for leniency on your behalf.”
His steps slowed as he neared. When he stopped before her, his voice had softened noticeably.
“…Why are you crying?”
Sharie shut her damp eyes tightly.
The truth she had kept hidden even from herself spilled out, like water from a broken dam.
—In the short time I’ve known her… kind-hearted…
No. I wasn’t thinking of them at all.
She had only wanted to prove she was useful—so she wouldn’t be looked down on here the way her people, and her grandfather, had always done.
She wanted to be someone needed.
That’s why I tried so hard.
She wasn’t kind or selfless, as the cook believed. She was calculating.
How selfish and shameful I must be.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
She wasn’t in pain, nor was she sad—yet the tears came.
“I’m sorry…”
She shouldn’t cry now. Not after doing wrong. How pathetic must she look, crying in front of him like this?
But instead of another sigh, a large hand touched her face.
“What is it that makes you so anxious and uneasy?”
His fingers, cool and firm, brushed the wetness from her eyes with surprising gentleness—enough to ease the tension in her shoulders.
“Even if you do nothing at all, Sharie, we are husband and wife. To be family, there are no conditions.”
“Even without a tail?”
The words slipped out before she could stop them. She clapped a hand over her mouth, horrified.
“Without a tail?”
He arched a brow.
Too late—once spoken, there was no taking them back.
And with them came the old memories she thought she’d buried.
—Deficient.
Her grandfather’s cane striking her as he called her the shame of their family.
The scornful eyes of her kin. Even her younger brother distancing himself.
What have I done…
Her heart pounded violently. She squeezed her eyes shut, bracing for the thunder of his condemnation.
“So what?”
Her eyes flew open at his calm reply.
“How…?”
“You’ve already shown me your beast form.”
Sharie stared at him, utterly stunned.
