Chapter 82
“Marien…”
A hoarse, cracked voice came out. Bailion grabbed Marien, who was about to leave to call someone.
“Why are you like this? Do you need something… water? Shall I give you some water?”
Marien brought a glass to his lips. Bailion sucked on the straw, swallowing little by little. Only after his dry, parched throat was moistened did he realize how thirsty he had been.
“Drink slowly.”
He couldn’t drink much at once, so it took some time. His eyes wandered to Marien’s arm, which was tilting the glass toward him.
Through the bandages wrapped around her arm, faint reddish blood showed. Seeing it, he remembered the moment when she was cut by the intruder’s sword, and he could only watch.
“Ahk!”
A sharp scream echoed through the ballroom.
It could have been avoided. If Bailion had ignored his master’s orders and intervened sooner, she wouldn’t be wrapped in bandages now.
What must Marien have thought in that moment of confrontation?
Where is Bailion? Why isn’t he helping me?
She couldn’t even look around freely for fear of being stabbed. The image was vivid in his mind.
Family members and Odette had told Bailion to stop overprotecting her. It wasn’t just a concerned lover—it was practically like a mother bird, they said.
But could someone like Bailion really be called a proper lover?
The person who only watched when she needed help the most—how could he even claim to be her partner?
“Marien, does your injury… still hurt?”
“Hurt? Oh, you should take some medicine now, right after you wake up.”
“No, not me.”
Bailion’s voice grew faint.
“You.”
“Me?”
Marien looked puzzled. Then, following Bailion’s gaze, she noticed her bandaged arm and exclaimed, “Ah.”
“This isn’t blood. The disinfectant is red. The royal physician said it’s a light injury that doesn’t need stitches.”
Marien’s voice was overly bright. Bailion’s expression darkened. He had seen the drops of blood fall onto her dress with his own eyes.
“Really? Really, really. Or should I unwrap it for you to see?”
“No, don’t.”
Bailion hurriedly stopped her. Marien was both flustered and excited. If she carelessly unwrapped the bandages in this state, the wound could worsen.
There was no need for her to do that just to reassure him.
Truly.
“As long as it doesn’t hurt.”
“It doesn’t. It’ll heal in a few days.”
“That’s a relief. Marien, how much time has passed since I collapsed?”
Marien hesitated briefly. His usual mischievous spark nearly surfaced.
“Not even a full day. You lost consciousness last night, and now it’s… 4:10 p.m.”
“So the Fourth Princess’s palace visit was this morning?”
“Ah! How did you know?”
Marien’s eyes widened.
“Did you hear what I said before you woke up?”
“Yes, I could hear the sounds.”
Marien’s focus wavered, recalling if she had made a slip of the tongue. Bailion forced down his rising impatience and continued.
“What did Your Highness say in response to Duke Blackwood’s request?”
“…To summarize, it was postponed. The duke barged into a one-on-one meeting with you, so Your Highness used your condition as an excuse to turn him away. He was told to schedule a formal visit another day.”
Postponed.
In other words, not a complete refusal.
Odette, by nature, would have been irritated at Cain’s behavior while calculating the practical benefits. Where should she move Marien, her chess piece, for long-term advantage?
After such calculation, the decision was “postpone.” Relief mixed with unease washed over Bailion.
It didn’t matter if he was injured—he was, after all, Bailion Beers, the embodiment of sacrifice and devotion.
But Marien cannot be hurt.
His expression darkened sharply. Marien hurried to reassure him that he hadn’t meant it that way.
“The duke will never be able to schedule a visit.”
“What does that mean? You said it was postponed.”
“Postponed, yes. But the deadline might be decades later. Your Highness will always give a new excuse to avoid the meeting. And how did it happen?…”
Marien suddenly smiled triumphantly.
“I beat him.”
Her face radiated pride.
“The black-haired brute, whose brain is all muscle, wouldn’t know how to win someone’s heart. Foolish idiot. He even tried to cut his own hair to prove sincerity.”
Marien snorted.
“What does he think of the Fourth Princess, doing such feats of strength? He should spend that time wondering what his fiancée really thinks.”
“So, Marien, did you win the princess’s heart?”
“Of course.”
Marien’s eyes sparkled. If this wasn’t just her own delusion, it was remarkable.
Bailion knew that while someone could pique Odette’s interest, winning her heart was nearly impossible. Odette Rose was that kind of person.
He carefully chose his words.
“This may sound strange, but just now, your expression was…”
He stopped. He thought of a concubine whispering to the emperor. Not something to say to a lover.
“Impressive.”
“…Yes, but why would that sound strange? It doesn’t at all.”
“Right, right.”
Bailion smoothly shifted the topic. He asked for good news, now that the bad news was out. Marien tapped herself with her finger.
“This news I just mentioned. I defeated Cain Blackwood.”
Bailion could only express pride.
◇ ◆ ◇
Recovery was slow. Bailion was better than a week ago, but not as fast as hoped.
Even with daily royal physician visits and the best medicine and ointments in the empire, progress was limited.
“The main issue is internal injury. Medicine and ointments can’t help inside. You must rest until the insides naturally heal.”
The royal physician glanced at him.
“You should focus solely on recovery. Avoid looking at documents from bed.”
Even if the outside healed, internal muscles injured by the sword took far longer.
Bailion’s plan to return to work on the eighth day was thus canceled.
At that moment, someone knocked. The Count of Beers, at home today, took the royal physician aside to speak briefly. Marien, left alone with Bailion, seemed to plead.
“Please rest, Count Beers. I beg you.”
“I’ve never rested this long before; it makes me uncomfortable.”
“Not just uncomfortable in mind, Count. Your body is strained too.”
“But Marien, there were times I worked when the pain was far worse.”
Marien was astonished. Could the empire’s labor laws really allow that? Bailion had been stabbed in the stomach recently and bled into a basin.
Yet he worked despite worse pain?
Measures were necessary. Several law clauses needed revision. Otherwise, he might select a coffin for the chancellor before achieving his great works.
“I wasn’t there before. Now I can actively prevent your overwork.”
“….”
“Why are you suddenly silent?”
“….”
“Was it after I joined the chancellor’s office?”
Bailion glanced at his lover.
“It must have been shortly after you joined.”
A gentle, devoted man—but even one with abundant stamina—could overwork to exhaustion.
Marien’s expression hardened. While she liked frail handsome men, it was always someone else’s man.
Seeing Odette clutch her chest at minor injury, needing medicine, made her feel deeply. If her master nearly collapsed, how would she feel if it were her lover?
By God’s grace, she had the fortune to be with her beloved. Could she ever receive such blessing again?
If God kept score, he’d rain storms every time she went out, saying, “You’ve exceeded your limit.”
Marien, soaked below, would have nothing to say. Bailion was worth trading all the remaining sunny days of life.
Hence, she must pay careful attention to his health. Who knows when God might decide to take such a blessing?
“Anyway, it won’t do.”
In a blink, Marien gathered all the documents from the bed. She also moved the stacks from the bedside table to a distant table.
Bailion looked at the table longingly. His eyes were a mix of duty (42%), guilt (50%), and boredom (8%). If left alone, he would slowly resume work.
“Move all these documents to Count Beers’ study without missing a single one.”
“Yes, understood.”
Marien eventually summoned a servant to remove the work from Bailion’s sight. He looked regretful.
“Slowly, but now you can walk. Leaning on bed cushions to look at documents won’t worsen your condition.”
“If the roles were reversed, you wouldn’t let me read a single line of the newspaper, let alone documents.”
“That’s…”
“Count Beers, you’re a workaholic.”
Marien sat on the bed and sighed.
Reading the book, she hadn’t realized the recovery process was omitted in the original. He had just reappeared before Odette after quietly recovering unseen.
So this is how he’s been spending every day. Waiting to return to work, even reviewing reports in bed.
Even when doctors and family told him to rest, he only smiled. He must have known Odette’s mind had drifted toward Cain.
Yet he hurried to return to see her…
The thought only made her sigh. Such a hopeless man. Only someone shameless and clever like her could watch over him.
Stop working. Sleep. Rest, no matter what. Fortunately, he at least listens to his lover.
“Alright. I’ll rest, Marien. So don’t make that face like you’re about to cry. It’s my fault.”
Bailion lowered himself. Gently tugging her sleeve, he asked Marien to handle tonight’s wound care.
His voice was soft and tender. He knew her weak spots. Leaving a person so suited to romance alone felt almost criminal.
Today, too, Marien rationalized it.
