Faced with a gaze too frightening to confront, Heterson hastily made excuses.

“I only lied because the madam ordered me to…!”

Ah. This was also something I shouldn’t have said.

Once again, he had to clamp his own mouth shut.

“Serpina told you to lie?”

Oh well, never mind.

“That’s right. If the patient doesn’t want it, it’s the doctor’s principle to keep quiet. Trust between patient and doctor is an extremely important matter. The Duchess wishes to keep this matter secret. So please understand with a generous heart. Anyway, as time passes… the Duke will naturally come to know.”

Heterson, who had laid out an appropriate truth, fumbled to take out a handkerchief and wiped the sweat flowing on his forehead.

It was the handkerchief he had used earlier to wipe the hoshan fruit juice that had gotten on his hands.

Seeing the red stains on the drooping handkerchief, Dante’s expression went blank.

The fierce momentum disappeared, pushed away by intense despair and lamentation.

In his heart, he wanted to grab the doctor by the collar and demand he speak properly about Serpina’s condition.

Imagining Serpina, who must have begged Heterson to keep the secret even in her pain, he couldn’t bring himself to pry any further.

All he could do was clench his molars tightly and suppress a groan.

“Then answer just this.”

“Yes.”

“…Is there no positive progress?”

Heterson was flustered by Dante’s question.

Positive progress?

What kind of positive progress was he asking about?

Could it be that he already knows something and is asking?

Maybe the Duke has already noticed everything, and only the Duchess doesn’t know?

It seemed like a reasonable guess, but he couldn’t dare to openly test the Duke.

Alright. Let’s just answer this truthfully too.

“…I’m ashamed to say.”

After all, it was the first time he had seen the hoshan fruit directly today, so there was no positive progress to speak of.

There wasn’t anything new he had found out either.

Fortunately, the Duke’s questioning ended there.

“Wait a moment.”

“…Yes?”

Just as he thought he could finally go home and quickly turned around, the Duke held him back again.

What else does he want to say?

As he looked at the Duke with an anxious heart, he handed something over.

“This is…”

“A bonus. Please continue to take good care of my wife.”

With the thick envelope of money and the added encouragement, his fear not only melted away but boiled up like sweet sugar syrup.

“Don’t worry. I will do my best!”

With a spirited answer, Heterson left the office and carefully tucked the envelope of money into his bag.

Now all he wanted was to get home quickly.

But his ordeal was not over yet.

“Could we have a brief chat?”

“If it’s just for a moment.”

Two maids blocked his path and dragged him into a corner.

The two with sharp eyes bombarded him with questions like ‘You’ve just seen the madam, right?’, ‘How is the madam doing?’

Amidst the flurry of questions, he gradually became unable to bear the sorrow.

It felt like the financial treatment he had barely achieved with the money envelope was becoming useless again.

He hugged the bag containing the money tightly and answered with a sob.

“I… I can’t… say anything.”

At the trembling voice like a lamb’s, Siena and Mari exchanged glances simultaneously.

A doctor says he can’t say anything while sobbing?

That means…

“Oh, no.”

“Sob, sob. Mari. What should we do?”

What’s this? Why are they like that?

Heterson was very bewildered by the two maids suddenly bursting into tears.

Ah. I don’t know.

I don’t understand anymore either.

Heterson just started crying along with the two. It was just the right mood to cry, so he could naturally shed tears.

Seeing the three people sobbing while hiding in a corner, someone hiding behind a pillar sighed.

“…Hah.”

It was Barhan.

He had followed them, worried they might cause some trouble when he saw Mari and Siena dragging Heterson away in front of the mansion.

Encountering this sad scene by chance, all he could do was hide behind the pillar and heave a sigh mixed with worry.

“Madam…”

Only negative thoughts came to mind.

If the doctor was shedding tears like this, how serious must the madam’s condition be?

The wrinkles of the old man only deepened with the increasingly negative thoughts.

It seems the Richter mansion is collectively experiencing autumn melancholy.

Everyone’s going around with a shadow on their face, wearing only bitter and wistful smiles.

“Everyone seems quite emotional.”

“…Pardon?”

“Never mind. Get back to work.”

I smiled brightly and shook my head at Mari, who answered with a deflated tone.

Ah. She’s smiling wistfully again.

It was so sorrowful that my heart felt like it was being torn apart.

Moreover, perhaps due to the effects of autumn melancholy, the excessive protectiveness that had slightly withered has intensified again.

They worry if I just breathe, worry if I oversleep, worry if I wake up early, worry if I leave food, worry if I eat well.

I don’t know what they want me to do.

If I bump my knee on the desk or bite my tongue while eating, they make a fuss like “Aah! Madam!” as if they’re about to hold a funeral.

Even if I want to say something, they’re always wearing those wistful smiles, so I can’t bring myself to say anything.

Tsk.

As I was reading a book while munching on herbal cookies, I suddenly shivered from the chilly temperature.

Ah. It must have gotten cold again.

I thought I had adapted to the weather, but apparently not.

“How’s the winter in the north? It must be extremely cold, right?”

Mari, who was changing the water in the flower vase, answered my question as I looked out the window.

“Compared to the winter in the capital, it would be much colder.”

“Hmm. I guess so?”

“I’m worried since you’re very sensitive to cold, Madam. We should prepare lots of thick clothes.”

Sensitive to cold, she says.

It was true. I am more sensitive to cold than others.

Is it because I’m thin-skinned?

But apart from that, I was confident in enduring the cold.

The attic room where I stayed at the Count’s mansion didn’t even have a proper stove, so it was literally an ice cave in the middle of winter.

That’s when I realized.

Being sensitive to cold and enduring cold are two different things.

But here, I won’t have to endure the cold.

“Yes. Please do. I’d like to use the fireplace a lot too. Is that okay?”

“Of course.”

“Wow. I’m excited.”

After acting childishly in a way that didn’t suit me, I lay down with my cheek on the table.

I could see Markops tending the garden and my lonely field.

Ah. When winter comes, some things will freeze to death.

Most of the medicinal herbs I planted are ones that can withstand the cold winter, but…

Dante’s flower garden will be difficult to survive until winter.

“…It would be nice if they could endure a little longer.”

The flowers are too fragile, that’s the problem.

That’s when it happened.

Crash.

A sharp noise came from behind.

Startled, I turned my head to see Mari, pale-faced, trembling her hands in the air.

At her feet, broken glass pieces were scattered.

It seems her hand slipped while changing the water in the flower vase.

“Are you okay, Mari?”

“I, I’m sorry. I’m fine. I’m fine, but…”

Mari’s eyes filled with tears as she stammered.

“Why do you say such things?”

“Huh? What did I say?”

All I did was ask Mari if she was okay.

Mari blinked blankly at my response.

“…No. It’s nothing. I’m sorry.”

Then she crouched down and hurriedly cleaned up the broken pieces.

Despite my insistence to leave it be as she seemed shocked, Mari swiftly and neatly cleaned up the pieces and left the room.

Seeing her back as she hastily left the room looking so pitiful, I unconsciously let out a sigh.

“Oh dear. Everyone really must be feeling the autumn blues.”

Autumn. It’s quite a fearsome thing, isn’t it?

This won’t do.

I can’t just watch them all like this, they’re so pitiful.

I pondered if there was a way to cheer up the people of the Richter mansion.

Isn’t this also the duty of a duchess?

After days of contemplation, a good idea came to mind.

That is.

“How about we all plant trees together?”

Planting trees.

“Plant trees, you say?”

I nodded vigorously at Dante, who asked as if it was sudden.

“Everyone seems to be lacking energy. If we all do something together with enthusiasm, won’t it give us energy?”

Even after my words, he still had an expression of not understanding.

An expression that seemed to want to ask why tree planting, of all things, even though doing something together to cheer up was good.

It was an understandable question.

Even I used to look at my grandmother and mother planting trees every autumn with exactly that expression when I was young.