PDFML 05

– Chapter 5 –

Unless you were born in the Imperial Palace or were royalty, you couldn’t die inside it. As soon as Linea was diagnosed with a serious condition, she was sent back to the duke’s estate.

“What’s going on the moment you return?”

On the day she left the palace, Linea was too weak to walk and was wrapped in blankets, carried in a servant’s arms when she heard that voice—Yurik’s voice.

I hate this. I don’t want to see Yurik. Linea tightly shut her eyes.

“The young noble lady has fallen ill and is returning home to recover.”

“Who is it?”

“She is the young lady of Duke Shuhebbers.”

“What?!”

Yurik’s voice rose sharply just as Linea was placed into the carriage and the door was closed.

“Wait, wait a second!”

Ignoring Yurik’s calls, the carriage departed. Linea inwardly sighed with relief.

Back in her room at the duke’s estate after months, nothing felt welcoming. She was just tired. Exhausted.

“Causing a scene in the Imperial Palace and now falling sick? How disgraceful.”

Her parents came into her room once, said that and left as if spitting the words. What hurt more was the look in her mother’s eyes—just as cold as her father’s. She had disappointed her.

After her parents slammed the door shut and left, a single tear slipped from Linea’s eyes.

Since pneumonia was contagious, no one was allowed to stay at Linea’s side for long.

So, if she needed something, she had to pull the cord attached to the bed to call a nurse from the next room. But on days when the fever was too high, she didn’t even have the strength to pull the cord. She drifted in and out of consciousness all night.

Still, she endured. She knew no one would come just because she cried out. She missed her mother and longed to see even a flicker of concern in her eyes, but she held it in.

Then one day, while a maid was changing her undergarments, Linea finally whimpered for the first time.

“Mother… I want to see Mother.”

“Milady is very busy.”

The maid looked startled just by the fact that Linea had spoken. Linea weakly replied:

“Then… could you at least ask her to come? Just once?”

“Yes, I will.”

But the next day, and the day after that, her mother never came.

Her fever worsened. Linea was gravely ill.

“Hey…”

Linea wheezed, coughing, and asked the maid,

“Why… hasn’t she come? Did you… tell her?”

“Yes, I did…”

The maid avoided her gaze awkwardly.

“You did? Then why hasn’t she come?”

“……”

The maid said nothing, silently wiped Linea’s sweat, and left the room. Linea couldn’t lie still any longer.

Her sick body throbbed all over just from moving her feet, and she coughed nonstop. Even standing in front of the door left her newly changed undergarments soaked in sweat.

She leaned against the wall, stumbling her way to her mother’s room.

She just wanted to know if her mother truly understood how sick she was. Maybe she didn’t know. Maybe the maid hadn’t told her. Each step Linea took was filled with painful hope and desperation.

As she turned the corner, past the sitting room—

“…So please, if you could just visit Miss Linea once—”

“I already said I can’t today. Why don’t you understand?”

Her mother’s sharp voice cut off the maid mid-sentence. Linea froze.

“I told you Brigitte’s recital is today. It’s only for today. Are you telling me to cancel that and go see Linea? Right now?”

“Just for a moment, if you could stop by, the young lady would be so happy…”

“I can go see her any time! Don’t bother me with pointless things.”

Pointless things. That word, her mother’s expression, gestures, voice—each struck Linea’s heart.

Before the maid could bow and leave, Linea turned back down the hall. Slowly, painfully, she returned to her room, crawled onto the bed, and collapsed. Her heart hurt more than her body.

Even now, she found herself wondering—maybe she’ll come tomorrow. Maybe tonight. And she hated herself for thinking that.

But her mother never came. In the faint haze of delirium, Linea passed out at dawn.

For days, she had nightmares where her mother abandoned her in the street. In her fever, she cried endlessly, lost between dreams and reality.

“Mother… please don’t leave me…”

“Young lady! Wake up, please!”

She heard the physician’s voice more than once, but never her mother’s.

Again and again she passed out and came to. When she finally opened her eyes, it was the middle of the night. She sat up slowly. Her body felt lighter.

<…Linea.>

The spirits’ voices—silent since she had told them to leave—returned. Linea gave a faint smile.

<Linea, are you okay now?>

<Are you alright? We were worried.>

“…Worried?”

In the empty room, Linea muttered alone.

“When I was locked in the attic and cried, when I was punished harshly, when I was bullied… you always said that. ‘Are you okay, Linea? We were worried.’”

<We really were worried…>

“I know. But… what do I do? I’m not okay.”

Tears rolled down Linea’s cheeks.

“I’m not okay… I’m really not okay! You always ask me that—‘Are you okay?’ ‘We were worried!’ But what does that mean? If you were so worried, why didn’t you help me? Why did you leave me like this? Why? Why? WHY?!”

Those words weren’t meant for the spirits. They were meant for her parents—for the world that left her so utterly alone.

Her sorrow and rage had nowhere to go, so they lashed out at the spirits who had always been beside her but never did anything. Linea didn’t realize it. The spirits didn’t either.

“I wish I’d never heard your voices. I wish I’d just been a normal child. Why… why am I like this?! Why?!”

“Young lady?”

Startled by her shouting, the maid from the next room rushed in. But Linea kept screaming.

“I hate it all! I hate everyone! You should’ve just left me alone from the start! Leave me alone now! I’ll live like everyone else—just normal—kuh!”

Yelling with her damaged throat tore it open. Blood poured from her mouth. The maid panicked, wiping away the blood and helping her spit it out. Linea cried along with it.

<…We’re sorry we couldn’t help you.>

<But we were really happy when you were born, Linea.>

<We’re sorry…>

<We’re sorry we couldn’t help…>

And with those final words, the spirits’ voices disappeared for good. Linea clenched her eyes shut and wept.

Her damaged health from the long bout of pneumonia finally recovered nearly a year later.

Linea had become quieter, more withdrawn. She didn’t look her parents in the eye or speak to them unless spoken to. She no longer expected anything from anyone.

“Your fiancé has been decided.”

So when her father summoned her and said that, she simply replied, “Yes,” without emotion.

“He’s the eldest son of the Ramben family. He’ll inherit the marquisate. For a worthless child like you, this is a generous match. Don’t bring shame to us. Don’t offend him.”

“Yes.”

“And that pale face and bony frame—do something about it. You have not a speck of charm.”

Again, Linea replied, “Yes.”

In the following two weeks, the maids fussed endlessly—feeding her nourishing food, tailoring new dresses, trying new hairstyles, applying beauty packs—but Linea didn’t care at all.

“Young lady, the Ramben family is ancient. They’ve been around since before the Empire.”

“Though they’ve declined in wealth…”

An older maid nudged the chattering younger one. Linea didn’t listen.

It didn’t matter who it was. She didn’t expect anything from whoever she’d marry.

What preoccupied her more was the silence of the spirits since her illness. She felt she had spoken too harshly. She wanted to apologize… but the words wouldn’t come easily.

Yurik had apologized right away.

Remembering him stirred bitter feelings, so she shoved the memory far away. She never wanted to think of him again. Though he sent her several letters, she hadn’t opened a single one—she burned them all.

“You look beautiful, my lady!”

On the day she was to meet her fiancé, the maids dressed Linea like a jewel.

“Your expression is too gloomy. Are you nervous?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Please smile. With your beauty, it’s a waste not to.”

Who’s going to care if I smile? Linea ignored her.

The meeting took place in one of the duke’s drawing rooms, adorned with flowers and cleaned to a sparkle just for this day. Linea realized this was the first time anyone had decorated a place just for her.

She liked the cloudy weather. Sitting beside her parents, she kept her head lowered while they chatted with the marquis.

“Well then, it’s important for the couple to get to know each other. Shall we leave them alone?”

At the marquis’s suggestion, her mother smiled and agreed. The adults left. Alone now, Linea stared out the cloudy window. Her fiancé said nothing.

She wanted to hear the spirits again. To talk with them. She didn’t care about the fiancé.

Then a strong wind blew outside the window. Mistaking it for the spirits, she answered aloud without thinking.

“Is that you?”

“Pardon?”

The voice was not a spirit, but her fiancé. Linea froze, realizing where she was. She quickly apologized.

“I’m sorry. I misheard.”

“No need to apologize. But… who did you think it was?”

“……”

Then, an impulse struck her. If this engagement falls through, will they lock me in the attic again? Or… maybe they’ll just give up on me entirely?

“I… I hear voices.”

Her mouth moved on its own.

“Voices that don’t belong to people. Since I was a baby. We were close. But lately, I don’t hear them anymore. I mistook the wind just now.”

“……”

He said nothing. Linea let out a bitter laugh. The maid behind her paled and fidgeted.

“I see. That must be upsetting.”

“…What?”

“When you lose a friend, it’s natural to be upset, isn’t it?”

Linea’s eyes widened.

“Was there a reason you lost them? If you fix that, maybe you’ll hear them again.”

“…What did you think I said?”

“Pardon?”

“Shouldn’t you be calling me crazy?”

He gave a flustered smile.

“Why would I?”

“Because… that’s not something normal people say…”

“I don’t want to judge what my future partner says by what’s normal or not.”

Linea bit her trembling lips.

“So… you believe me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You seemed sincere. Isn’t that enough?”

For the first time, Linea truly looked at her fiancé.

Neatly cut blond hair, gentle gray eyes, and a kind smile. The boy—soon to become a young man—opened his graceful lips.

“It doesn’t matter what you say. As long as it’s you who says it.”

“….”

“Or… were you teasing me?”

“No!”

She shouted reflexively and startled herself. Her body trembled. Tears threatened to fall. A gentle hand reached out.

“…Are you alright?”

“…No.”

I’m not alright. I’ve never been alright.

I’ve never lied.

For the first time in her life, someone believed her. Didn’t run away.

No one could understand how deeply she had longed for that.

This was the meeting of Linea, age 13, and Kadil Ramben, age 18.