Chapter 10
Late at night, when everyone was asleep.
“…Haa.”
A shaky sigh slipped out between parted lips.
I thought I was finally recovering after being sick for days.
But that damned pain had returned.
My whole body ached like I had the flu, and my temperature was rising.
I felt nauseous and was drenched in cold sweat.
“…Haa. What the hell is this.”
It was hard enough to think straight as it was, and now even my body was giving out. It was enough to make anyone want to die.
Could this wretched curse even be broken?
What was Edvon Martinhaze thinking?
Why could I see into another’s life?
How was I supposed to stop Gérard’s mana from rampaging?
…There was so much I still had to find out.
“Ugh…”
The only thing that came out of my mouth was a stifled groan.
“Ha… haa…”
I suddenly wondered if this pain was part of the curse.
The magician Dante had said I might have up to a week, at most.
But he hadn’t told me what the worst-case scenario looked like.
With the cold sweat continuing to drip down my back, I couldn’t help but fear—what if tonight was the end?
“Ah… ah…”
Thankfully, my voice was still intact. But once fear took hold, it only grew.
‘If I go to the magician…’
But was this serious enough to barge into the room of the magician who had locked himself away to undo the curse?
‘Edvon…’
It didn’t feel right to ask him for help, either.
Even in this terrifying situation, when I felt like I might be swallowed whole by anxiety, there wasn’t a single person I could clearly turn to. That made it all the more hopeless.
In the end, not knowing what else to do—
“Haa…”
Unable to bear the pain any longer, I opened the door.
Click.
As I did, I caught sight of an unexpected head.
“Gérard?”
The child, curled up with his face buried in his knees, slowly looked up.
“…Ah, Mother.”
He clearly hadn’t expected me to come out either, and scrambled to his feet.
“…What are you doing out here?”
It was past 1 a.m. for sure.
Stunned to find him out here at this hour, I checked the wall clock again, but the hour hand hadn’t moved—it was still past 1.
“Ah, no, I was just…”
“Why are you here? Did you have something to say?”
Why was he all alone in the chilly hallway?
No matter how I tried to reason it out, I couldn’t understand what he was doing.
“I was… worried you might be sick again.”
“…Then you should’ve come in.”
A sigh escaped me at the absurdity of it.
The boy had cared for me late into the night yesterday. He must not have gotten proper rest.
And yet, here he was, wandering the halls after everyone had gone to bed.
“You don’t need to worry. I’m fine now.”
Cough, cough.
The morning I yelled at him surfaced in my mind. I had resented him—raised my voice at him.
And yet here he was, worried for me.
“…You should sleep if you want to wake up early tomorrow.”
“…Yes. I’m sorry.”
Maybe he thought I was scolding him—Gérard drooped his head, dejected.
‘…That’s not what I meant.’
He already looked so small, but curled up like that, he was barely a wisp.
Feeling sorry for him, I bent my knees so our eyes met.
“It’s okay. You don’t have to worry.”
I couldn’t even imagine how long he had wandered alone in the hallway before I opened the door.
When I cautiously touched his cheek, his face, chilled from the hallway air, felt quite cold.
“So, you should—”
That’s when Gérard carefully reached out to me.
“You’re sweating.”
“Ah…”
His face immediately twisted with worry.
“You’re sick, aren’t you?”
“No, I—”
“I’ll, I’ll go get the doctor!”
Without waiting for my response, Gérard dashed off down the stairs before I could stop him.
“Haa…”
I told him not to worry… to go back inside.
Watching his small figure disappear down the hall, I let out a sigh and turned my gaze.
The wall where he had been sitting—
There, a small wooden practice sword had been left behind.
“This is…”
It looked like Gérard’s.
I picked it up.
…A toy-like wooden sword.
As I stared at it, unsure of its meaning—
Thud thud thud.
I heard quick steps up the stairs, and soon Gérard appeared, running down the hall on his short legs.
“Mother! The doctor will be here soon. Don’t worry—just lie down and rest.”
“…Thank you.”
His eyes widened in surprise at those two words.
Then he nodded vigorously.
Smiling like a fool.
“Gérard, go back to bed now. It’s very late.”
“But…”
His gaze trembled.
He looked like he wanted to say something more, then noticed the sword in my hand.
“Here.”
I handed it back, sensing he wanted it.
He took it with a firm grip.
For a five-year-old, the way he held the sword was strikingly serious.
“I—I’m still young, but… my teacher says I’m really talented. Far ahead of other kids my age.”
His words jogged my memory of Anditné’s thoughts.
Just as Gérard had said, he was indeed skilled in swordsmanship—remarkably so, especially for his age.
Innate talent.
That was why Anditné was so fixated on him.
She believed the genius knight he would become would one day restore her shattered pride and honor.
“I see.”
I didn’t understand why the conversation had suddenly shifted to Gérard’s talent, but I quietly nodded, hoping to calm him and send him off to bed.
“So I’ll protect you, Mother. No matter what.”
“…What?”
I blinked, dumbfounded, forgetting what I was going to say.
“I’ll protect you. So there’s nothing to worry about.”
I couldn’t understand what he was talking about.
Protect me from what?
A trembling voice, a toy-like sword held in small hands.
I almost laughed, but the way his red lips were tightly shut kept mine closed as well.
His unwavering gaze and determined mouth caught my eyes.
That promise to protect—it wasn’t a childish boast. It was a sincere vow.
He gripped that toy sword with real strength.
“…Ah.”
Protect me…
It was such a ridiculous thing to say—yet this tiny child was the first person to ever say those words to me.
…He wasn’t even half my size, and his sword was barely more than a toy. It couldn’t make me feel safe.
I didn’t expect it to.
So why did that lump of emotion rise so suddenly in my throat?
I knew this was something I had to endure alone.
The best I could do was hope the magician could break the curse.
That was all I had. I knew that.
I knew all the fear and uncertainty were mine to bear alone.
<There’s nothing to worry about.>
That single line from Gérard brought a sudden rush of emotion.
“So… so I’m sorry, but I have to stay here.”
Gérard took a few steps back, as if afraid I might scold him.
Even as he watched my expression fearfully, he stubbornly refused to return to his room. His mouth was firmly set, clearly intending to spend the night in the cold hallway.
Step, step.
Just as I opened my mouth to say something—
The family physician hurried over.
“My lady, I heard you’re not feeling well.”
“Ah…”
“May I examine you?”
I nodded and turned back into the room. The doctor followed.
…I thought Gérard would come in too, but he just peeked in from the hallway.
When our eyes met, he quickly turned away.
Click.
The door closed.
“I’ll give you some medicine now, please try taking it.”
The doctor spoke while sorting through his bag.
Apparently…
I had indigestion.
Just one bowl of soup, and I ended up like this?
It was laughable—but thinking back to dinner with the Martinhaze nobles, it wasn’t that surprising after all.
The doctor gave a respectful bow and left the room.
As he opened the door, I once again locked eyes with Gérard.
“Ah…”
Before I could say anything, the boy quickly fled.
He didn’t return for quite some time.
Knock knock.
A very cautious knock.
“Mother, I brought your medicine.”
His voice was even more careful.
He must’ve gone to fetch the medicine from the doctor.
He handed it to me gently, along with a cup of water, then stepped back.
“Gérard.”
“…Yes?”
If I sent him back now, he’d probably wander the halls again, unable to sleep while everyone else did.
…He said he’d protect me.
Did he hear something about the curse?
Was Gérard Martinhaze planning to fix it with swordsmanship?
“Would you like to sleep in this room with me?”
“…What?”
“Wouldn’t that be better? If you’re going to protect me.”
He hesitated briefly—then nodded enthusiastically.
His eyes, wide with surprise, curled into gentle arcs.
“Come here.”
“But I have to protect you, Mother. So please, just sleep soundly without worrying.”
But he firmly shook his head and went to stand at the foot of the bed, clearly intending to stay awake all night guarding me.
His earnestness touched me—but there was no way I could sleep peacefully knowing a child stood watch like that all night.
“Gérard, come here. Unless you’d rather go back to your own room.”
I patted the bed, half-threateningly, and he hesitated, then walked over.
He struggled to climb onto the bed, which was rather tall for him.
A kid who couldn’t even climb onto a bed was offering to protect me…
I reached out to help him as he scrambled, planting his right leg and arm up on the bed.
“…Ah.”
His pant leg had ridden up, revealing his pale shin.
“Th-thank you.”
He soon climbed all the way up and turned over, hiding the view—but I had seen it.
On Gérard’s white leg were several thin, red scars.
Marks of abuse.
