Episode 8
“Selindepirin can ease Arin disease. It can’t completely cure it, but…”
Benjamin from the Freya Orphanage, who had Arin disease, saw his symptoms ease after taking that herb.
Arin disease was an extremely rare, incurable illness. There were no established medicines for it—there wasn’t even proper research.
Of course, war orphans had no money to buy medicine, nor any way to see a doctor. All they could do was take common stamina-recovery herbs like selindepirin.
Arne remembered it clearly because she had personally gathered the herb and given it to Benjamin, who was suffering from Arin disease.
After Arne was adopted into the Duke of Ronia’s family, she could no longer see him.
“When we crushed selindepirin and took it, even the coughing up blood stopped. If he stopped taking it, the illness worsened again, but at least it slowed how fast it got worse.”
“How would you even know such a thing, young lady? Arin disease is extremely rare. Even within the Empire, very few know about it.”
Teresa’s eyes widened.
For once, even Cedric’s usually calm expression cracked, emotion breaking through.
Arne knew exactly what that emotion was.
Desperation.
A fierce, aching wish for someone precious not to die.
And hope—hope that maybe, just maybe, they could live.
That was why Arne decided to be honest.
Normally, she never spoke about her orphan days.
“I was adopted from the Freya Orphanage, remember? There was a friend there who had Arin disease.”
Teresa blinked in surprise.
Arne carried herself with such natural grace that Teresa had never imagined she had once been an orphan.
Cedric, however, didn’t look particularly surprised. It seemed he already knew.
“As you know, treatment wasn’t even an option. All we could do was give him selindepirin, since it grows in the mountains and fields. And… we were lucky.”
“Is that true?”
“Yes.”
“My goodness… Selindepirin is hard to find in the North. We never even thought to try it. If what you say is true…”
Teresa hurriedly packed her medicine bag.
“I must go see Lady Serena immediately. What is your name, young lady?”
“Please call me Arne.”
“Arne, you coming here today was truly heaven-sent. I’ll go right away. You make sure to take this medicine properly.”
With her medicine bag already slung over her shoulder, Teresa strode toward the door, then suddenly turned back.
“Cedric! Why are you just standing there? Feed the girl her medicine! Do you think I have two bodies? Take good care of her while I’m gone!”
Cedric, who had been staring at Arne in disbelief, snapped back to himself and nodded.
Seeing the note that said one packet after meals, Cedric gestured lightly toward the attendants.
At one point, chefs began rolling in carts.
The table in front of Cedric was quickly filled—warm bread scented with butter, fresh salad, steak, and countless dishes.
“Aiden must be making dessert, since I don’t see him.”
After unloading everything, the chefs bowed and withdrew.
Cedric picked up a fork and looked at Arne.
“What would you like to eat first?”
“I can eat by myself.”
“With hands that shaky?”
One of Cedric’s eyebrows lifted.
“If you do that, Granny Teresa will scold me. And if what you said is true, you’re my benefactor, aren’t you?”
Cedric shrugged, clearly unwilling to back down.
“…Then salad.”
“You should eat meat instead.”
His eyebrow tilted again, but he obediently held out the salad.
Looking at the fork, Arne felt like a baby bird being fed.
Only after both her cheeks were full did Cedric wait, seemingly satisfied.
“By the way, won’t you go see the Renigrad young lady?”
“She doesn’t like seeing me. When I visit, she tries her hardest to chase me away, which only makes her sicker.”
As soon as Arne finished chewing, Cedric picked up the next plate.
He looked strangely experienced—like someone used to caring for the sick.
Just as Arne finished the last piece of steak, the sound of a cart rolling in echoed.
“Aiden, you’re a bit late.”
“Please don’t scold me either, my lord. Granny Teresa rushed me terribly.”
The moment Arne saw the kindly smiling chef, she knew.
The head chef.
He wore a tall chef’s hat and a spotless white apron without a single stain.
Usually, the head chef only supervised. The fact that he was personally making dessert was astonishing.
The head chef of the Grand Duke’s household, personally making desserts…
Arne was stunned by the extravagant hospitality.
Helping ease his sister’s illness must mean that much to him.
Cheese croissants, custard choux, walnut brownies, cheesecake, chocolate cake, macarons…
Arne couldn’t tear her eyes away.
Especially the macarons.
Bianca had once ordered the kitchen never to serve them to the “orphan young lady.”
Arne had never eaten one before.
She said fake nobles ruin the appetite.
Arne swallowed.
Aiden poured tea, smiling gently.
“It’s jasmine tea. It’s good for a damaged throat and bronchitis.”
Such careful consideration made Arne’s eyes widen like a rabbit’s.
As Cedric watched her, he picked up a macaron and held it out.
Just as Arne opened her mouth, she hesitated.
Since childhood, Arne had lived on battlefields at the Duke of Ronia’s orders.
She ate quickly, out of habit—and Bianca had mocked her countless times.
She eats like a beggar. You can’t hide your origins.
Slowly, deliberately, Arne bit into the macaron.
Cedric tilted his head, puzzled, but Arne couldn’t look up.
It was delicious.
Crunchy, chewy, soft, and sweet…!
Her eyes sparkled.
Seeing her reaction, Head Chef Aiden nervously asked,
“Does it suit your taste?”
“Really…”
Arne stopped again.
I’ve never tasted anything like this. It’s amazing.
But the words stuck.
‘As if an orphan would know taste.’
Her adoptive mother Cecile’s voice echoed in her mind.
When Arne fell silent, tension crept onto Aiden’s face.
If Cedric had urgently summoned Granny Teresa, this guest was clearly precious.
Receiving poor feedback would shame both himself and Cedric.
“Is it… not to your liking?”
“It’s good.”
The simple, restrained answer made sweat bead in Aiden’s hands.
“If it’s not satisfactory, I can remake it.”
Seeing his distress hurt Arne.
The noble society was narrow.
If she reacted too strongly, people would whisper that the orphan girl lacked refinement.
But she didn’t want to see someone who had worked so hard feel sad.
She knew how much care Aiden had put into it.
If they mock me for being an orphan, I’ll shut their mouths forever.
In her previous life, Arne tried to act like a proper noble lady.
But Bianca and the duchess crushed her efforts—leaving her with only the reputation of a “mad villainess.”
Now, what did it matter?
If being a villainess meant protecting Vivian, she’d become one a hundred times over.
Cedric said he liked me because I was a villainess anyway.
Having decided, Arne looked straight at Aiden.
“…It’s my first time tasting something like this. It’s really delicious.”
Relief flooded Aiden’s face.
“Thank goodness. I truly put my heart into it.”
He laughed brightly, sincerely happy.
Arne froze.
This is how normal people react.
Such a simple exchange—yet one she had never experienced.
Aiden noticed her stiffen and stopped smiling.
“Was I insensitive? When you said it was a new taste… did you mean it was bad?”
“…No.”
Her delayed answer made Aiden doubt her sincerity.
“It’s really good!”
“You don’t have to force yourself. You look so troubled.”
“It was crunchy, chewy, soft, and sweet—really!”
But he still looked unconvinced.
“Truly, it was my first time tasting something like this. To me, that’s the highest praise. But nobles usually mock that phrase, saying it proves I’m just an orphan girl.”
Silence fell.
“How could anyone say such a thing! If there’s anything you want to eat, tell me—I’ll make everything!”
Clatter.
Aiden’s passionate declaration was cut off by the sound of Cedric knocking over his teacup. Jasmine tea spilled across the table and onto the floor.
“My apologies, Aiden. Please bring fresh tea. And the table’s dirty now—bring a larger one.”
Arne thought replacing the entire table was normal.
Cecile and Bianca would discard dresses after spilling tea and buy prettier ones.
Big nobles really are all the same, huh.
Of course, Cecile only dressed Arne in dull black dresses—because they didn’t show dirt.
If even a duke’s daughter lived like that, a grand duke’s son must be worse.
But unlike Arne, Aiden caught the flash of killing intent that crossed Cedric’s face.
Though his voice was gentle, the veins on his hand bulged fiercely.
“I’ll bring the largest table immediately!”
Aiden quickly returned with fresh tea and a larger table, then rushed off to make even more desserts.
Cedric fed Arne macarons until her cheeks puffed up like a squirrel’s.
Watching her chew, he smiled faintly.
“You look happier now.”
“This is really the first time eating something this good.”
“If my sister’s condition improves thanks to you, I’ll thank you properly. Is there anything you want?”
“Anything?”
“Anything I can give.”
Arne’s eyes sparkled. Cedric lifted his teacup, amused.
But Arne hadn’t forgotten what truly mattered.
Once she returned to the Duke of Ronia’s estate, she might never see Cedric again.
“Cedric… will you marry me?”
Cough. Cough.
Cedric nearly dropped his teacup.
