Episode 5 – Enoch Is Weak
“Enoch, what are you doing right now?”
“The better question is what are you doing with that body of yours? You should’ve taken the carriage from the
start. Walking all that way just to cough up blood.”
“I didn’t cough up blood!”
“Don’t lie.”
“I’m not lying…”
I was about to explain myself when he suddenly stopped dead in his tracks, making me shut up in surprise.
He stared down at me for a moment, then sighed.
“I’d like to believe it’s not the case, but… did you… do this for Philip?”
“What?”
“I’ve heard stories. In your homeland, Cornell, there are monks who ‘offer themselves in hardship’—pushing their
bodies to the limit to make a plea to God. Did you do this, walking all the way here, to pray for Philip’s soul?”
I’d heard a lot of nonsense in my life, but this was top-tier.
“It wasn’t blood it was pomegranate juice.”
“What?”
“I was dying of thirst, so I got one from a farmer on the road.”
He stared at me like I’d just confessed to a crime.
“Nora Cornell… got a pomegranate from a farmer… and ate it in the middle of the road?”
Okay, yeah, I felt my face heat up. The original Nora, trained in royal etiquette from birth, would never have done
something so undignified. But me? I’m just a normal person who can’t function if I’m hungry or tired.
“I didn’t have a choice.”
I dropped my gaze straight onto his very solid chest. Not great for my mental composure.
I took a deep breath and forced myself to sound calm.
“So put me down, go say goodbye to Philip, and come back.”
“I already did.”
Without so much as slowing, he kept carrying me.
“Where are we going, then?”
“Back to the Brandon estate.”
“Like this?”
He glanced at me.
“Whether it was blood or not, you shouldn’t keep walking.”
“If we just wait, the carriage Irene sent will be here.”
“Then I’ll carry you until we meet it.”
And from the way he was looking straight ahead, there was zero room for debate.
Great. So much for my ten-thousand-step goal. I’d only gotten to five thousand.
But fine. If I had to be carried, I might as well relax. I let myself sink against him, figuring it’d be easier for both of us.
That’s when I felt the muscles under me tighten—like, noticeably. It was… interesting, but probably not the right
time to comment.
Instead, I asked the thing that’d been bugging me:
“Enoch, why do you keep talking like I’m in love with Philip?”
“Not ‘like.’ You are in love with him.”
“…Me?”
“Yes, you. I can’t stop you from slipping in front of me, but at least be careful in front of Irene.”
His certainty made my brow twitch.
“And what exactly makes you so sure?”
He sighed.
“When I got here, you were staring at Philip’s portrait like you were entranced.”
“That’s because…”
Because it was my first time seeing the male lead’s face in real life—and, yeah, he was ridiculously handsome. But I
couldn’t exactly say that.
“I’ve just never seen a painting that realistic before.”
He snorted.
“Then what about clinging to his grave and sobbing?”
“When did I?”
“Don’t bother denying it. I saw you from behind.”
“Let’s be clear it wasn’t me crying at the grave, it was you, Enoch.”
“What”
He stopped mid-retort, probably remembering that yes, he had been the one crying.
Alright. Time to clear this up for real.
“I was leaning on the grave because I got dizzy.”
“What?”
“Yeah. I guess I pushed myself too hard. I felt dizzy and nauseous and couldn’t stand up straight for a bit.”
That wiped the irritation off his face—he actually looked worried.
“Are you okay now?”
“Yeah, I’m fine now.”
“Lean on me more.”
He adjusted his grip, pulling me tighter so my cheek was now pressed flush to his chest again.
He smelled nice, and his heartbeat was loud and… hold on.
Wait. His heart’s beating faster.
Not just my imagination, either. His breathing was a little heavier, and I could swear the back of his neck was a bit
red.
If someone saw this, they’d think he’d fallen for me.
Of course, that was ridiculous. Enoch was born to be one of Irene’s fish. Still, I suddenly realized there was another
explanation for a racing heart, heavy breathing, and a flushed neck
“You need to stop.”
He froze.
“Put me down. Now.”
“Why?”
“If you don’t, I swear I’ll never speak to you again.”
He set me down slowly, clearly baffled, and I glared up at him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“…Tell you what?”
“You’ve been breathing hard, your heart’s pounding, and your neck’s red. You’re tired.”
Busted. He looked away.
“Did you think I wouldn’t notice?”
“Nora…”
“If I’m too heavy, you should’ve just said so! Why carry me the whole way?”
“What?”
His face twisted.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I could carry you with one arm—no, one finger.”
“Yeah, sure, in your dreams.”
“I’m serious. I could carry you all day—hell, for the rest of my life if I had to!”
Wow. That escalated quickly. He was really overcompensating now.
I tried to throw him a bone.
“Don’t worry. I won’t tell Irene.”
“Who said I was worried about that?!”
He barked at me, and I smirked, turning away.
“Wait, I’m not done—”
“Oh look, a carriage. Must be from Irene.”
Perfect timing. We climbed in, Enoch still sulking across from me.
“Lucky it got here before you dropped dead, huh?”
“…Don’t talk to me.”
He turned to the window like a pouting kid, which made me snort. This deadly, magnetic man oozing lethal charm…
was actually kind of petty and childish inside. Honestly? I liked him better this way. Felt more approachable.
Maybe he sensed my gaze, because he suddenly let out a short laugh.
“What?”
“Just thinking how absurd this is. Everyone else can’t even look me in the eye, and you…”
“When have I?”
“See? This is what I mean.”
I shut up, and he shook his head.
“The more absurd part is me, matching your nonsense with my own.”
He wasn’t wrong. Normally I was cautious and guarded here, but with Enoch, I wasn’t. Maybe Nora herself had never
seen him as someone dangerous.
“Sorry if I overstepped. I just felt comfortable since we knew each other as kids.”
“No need to apologize.”
“Still, you’re a duke now. I’ll be more careful.”
His face actually looked annoyed at that.
“Don’t. Just act like you have been.”
I stared at him. Even he seemed to realize his words didn’t make sense, because he looked away.
By then, we’d arrived back at the Brandon estate. As we stepped into the main hall, the head housekeeper Emma
hurried over.
“Duke Osmond, Lady Nora—”
Her face was tight with worry. The whole mansion felt tense.
“Please, my lord… you have to help the madam!”
