“It seems… the madam might be ill somewhere. I hope it’s not a serious illness.”

The rumors began to sprout around the time the seeds Serpina had planted started to germinate.

“Mari, did the Sandra grass I grew sprout? Wow, I’m so proud. I guess I have a talent for growing medicinal herbs.”

Serpina was unusually excited about the sprouts that had peeked their heads out of the soil she had cultivated.

Wearing an old dress she had borrowed from someone, saying the dresses noble ladies wear are uncomfortable, and donning a straw hat she had snatched from Markops, she stopped everyone passing by to boast about her new sprouts.

The servants who heard the news deliberately passed by the vegetable garden to listen to the madam’s boasting.

And Mari was one of them.

Though she came of her own accord, Mari let out an awkward laugh at the unfamiliar sight.

Rolling her eyes, Mari gathered her courage and spoke to Serpina.

“What is Sandra grass good for as a medicinal herb?”

“It’s good for headaches. Especially effective when you eat it for throbbing temples.”

The explanation was more specific than expected.

Come to think of it, the madam seemed to read a lot of books about medicinal herbs.

“But madam, why did you decide to grow medicinal herbs?”

“It was my childhood dream.”

“…Did you suddenly want to fulfill your childhood dream? Oops.”

Mari was startled by her own words.

What’s the point of always telling Siena to watch her words?

When she herself couldn’t mind her own words.

But fortunately, Serpina didn’t seem to mind much.

“We only live once. I want to live the rest of my life without regrets, and to do that, I want to fulfill some childhood dreams.”

Mari’s face hardened at the casual answer as Serpina gazed at the sprouts.

We only live once, wanting to live the rest of her life without regrets?

The tone felt oddly familiar.

Was it because it was similar to her late grandmother’s last words before the coffin lid closed?

Or maybe it was because of the irreverent rumors that briefly circulated around the mansion after the madam’s sudden change.

Perhaps the madam had hit her head…

“Cough, cough.”

Just then, Serpina let out a dry cough.

“Are you alright, madam?”

“Yes. Maybe I got too much fresh air. I was so excited I sat out here all day…”

“Oh my, you should go inside. You’re already weak as it is.”

“…Huh? I’m weak?”

“Of course. You were bedridden just the other day. If you suddenly overexert yourself like this, you’ll get sick.”

“No, it’s been a month since I left the bed.”

However, Mari’s ears didn’t hear a word.

She only thought that the madam’s body looked too frail, as if it would break if touched.

After successfully forcing Serpina to change clothes and lie down in bed, Mari left the room and sighed deeply once she was alone.

And that was the problem.

“Why the sigh?”

More precisely, the problem was Jina, who happened to pass by and asked that question.

“Well, the madam seems too fragile. She’s saying strange things too… I’m worried she might be sick somewhere.”

No, that’s not it.

The problem was answering like this.

“You’re worried the madam might be sick?”

Jina was a good kid, but she had a bit of a loose tongue.

Mari momentarily forgot about that.

The fact that if it enters that child’s ears, everyone in the mansion would know within an hour.

Moreover, the rumors gradually transformed as they spread.

You’re worried the madam might be sick?

You’re worried because the madam seems to be sick?

You’re worried because the madam is sick?

The madam is sick?

Finally, when the rumor made a full circle and reached Mari’s ears again.

“It seems… the madam might be ill somewhere. I hope it’s not a serious illness.”

“Oh my. Is she really sick somewhere? Oh no.”

Mari could only worry sincerely about the now-established illness.

Not knowing in her wildest dreams that it was a bogus rumor stemming from her own concern.

It’s been three days since I was forcibly sealed in bed.

I looked out the window with teary eyes at my small, precious herb garden.

I want to go out.

I want to go out so badly.

I thought I’d just lie down for a day and then sneak out, but somehow more and more people were holding me back with each passing day.

When I was buried under the blankets, they were desperate to drag me out, but now that I’m out, they’re desperate to bury me back in.

“No, really. I’m not sick at all.”

“Still, madam, please rest a bit more. You don’t look well.”

“My complexion has always been poor. Must be genetic. So please let me out.”

“Madam. Please.”

Yeah. Now I think I’m starting to feel sick.

I feel like I’m about to die from high blood pressure.

To prove my health, I flopped face down on the bed.

And I started throwing a tantrum, flailing my arms and legs mercilessly.

“My sprouts are crying! They’re crying because they miss their mother! My sprouts have separation anxiety!”

“The sprouts would want to see a healthy mother too.”

“Actually, I’m the one with separation anxiety. I’m so anxious right now. Please let me out.”

It was then.

The sound of someone politely knocking on the door was heard.

After rolling around and shouting for a while, I sat up, panting.

“Come in.”

No sooner had the words left my mouth than the door opened, revealing,

“Madam. Are you alright? I heard you were ill. Oh, good heavens. My goodness.”

It was Barhan, looking pale.

Oh no. Damn it.

In the end, I was able to leave the room two days later.

After the doctor Barhan brought repeatedly asked me to open my mouth, close my eyes, open them again, raise my hands, lower my hands, raise the white flag, raise the blue flag three or four times.

“You’re inherently weak, but it’s not something to worry about immediately.”

He certified my health, that is.

Nice job, doctor.

“However, you are frail, so it would be better to refrain from outdoor activities. Don’t stay out for more than an hour a day. The spring in the north is quite chilly.”

Not nice, doctor.

Thus, my legal gardening time became one hour a day.

It was torture to only loiter in front of the field for an hour a day when I used to spend all day there.

So, I started another hobby for future planning.

Baking.

“You’re going to bake cookies yourself, madam?”

“Yes. Is that not allowed?”

“It’s not that it’s not allowed, but I’m worried you might get hurt.”

“It’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about except that my heart is already tattered and torn. I’m good at baking cookies.”

“This must be how Markops feels.”

Ena, the chef, muttered that but eventually gave me a spot in the kitchen.

The first cookies I made were herb cookies.

It would be better to use the herbs I grew myself, but unfortunately, our babies were still too young.

With no choice, I ground up a few dried medicinal herbs stored in the duke’s mansion and added them.

“You really do know how to bake cookies.”

Ena marveled at the fairly decent-looking finished cookies.

“I told you I’m good at it, didn’t I?”

Geez, have I been living a lie?

I proudly puffed out my chest, then broke a cooled cookie in half.

The satisfying sound of success, *crunch*, rang out pleasantly.

“Here, try it.”

“…You’re giving this to me?”

“Yes. I made plenty to share with everyone.”

Ena looked at me with an expression of a child who succeeded in an errand for the first time.

“Everyone will be delighted.”

“You think so?”

“Of course. Well then, I’ll gratefully enjoy it.”

Ena, with a touched expression, popped the half cookie into her mouth.

Is it delicious?

It must be delicious, right?

It’s delicious, isn’t it?

Ena’s jaw, which had been moving at a steady pace, slowly decelerated.

…What kind of expression is that?

Eventually, the face that stopped chewing wore an indescribable expression.

“Don’t tell me… it doesn’t taste good?”

That’s strange.

I used to be good at baking cookies.

I asked with slumped shoulders in disappointment, and Ena shook her head vigorously.

“No? It’s delicious. Really delicious, and it feels very, very… healthy.”

“Right? That’s right, isn’t it? I told you I’m good at baking cookies.”

I replied with a bright smile and popped the remaining cookie into my mouth.

“Wait, just a moment.”

“Mmm. It really is delicious.”

“…Yes. That’s right. Indeed. Ha ha. Ha.”

What’s this? Why is she laughing so strangely?

When I held out another cookie asking if she wanted more, Ena waved her hands.

Saying she felt bad eating it alone and wanted to share it with others.

As expected of the kind-hearted chef of the Richter family.

I busily packed the cookies. Beside me, Ena helped even more enthusiastically than I did.

“Here. Have a cookie. I made it myself.”

With the well-packed cookies, I went around various parts of the mansion, giving them as gifts to those I met.

Those who received the cookies smiled brightly, exclaiming their thanks, and after eating them, they were at a loss for words.

Wow.

They must be so delicious that they’re speechless.

I was so proud that I decided to focus on making cookies for a while.

I heard the news of my husband’s return while making cookies with ground Hokan tree root.

“…You’re making cookies again?”

“Yes. I ground Hokan tree root and added it, so it should be good for stomach health. I’ll share them with everyone when they’re done.”

Mari smiled faintly at my words.

“I wonder if we could destroy the oven…”

“Huh? What did you say?”

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

That’s strange. I thought I heard her mutter something just now.

Well, never mind.

“By the way, did you say the duke will be back soon?”

“Yes. A messenger bird came from the direction of the northern forest. He should arrive within this week at the latest.”

This week, huh.

The male lead left home about ten days before I started reminiscing about my childhood.

That means he’s coming home after about a month…

Wow. It’s going to be awkward.

And I even felt guilty.

I remembered how I used to be startled and hide every time I saw the male lead’s face, as if I’d seen a monster.

Oh my. He must have felt terrible.

From now on, I should treat him like I treat my sprouts.

The female lead will take care of cherishing and loving him, so I should try to be a good friend.

To do that, I want to correct the first impression that was already ruined long ago…

At that moment, my gaze fell on the cookie dough.