Yerpi Deilang’s expression turned cold and stiff. Before her silent, questioning gaze, Dante fumbled awkwardly.

Before Dante could finish speaking, Yerpi rose from her seat and handed the child over to a maid.

“Dante, stay here for a moment. Erka, please take care of Dante.”

“Huh? Yes!”

She hurried off in the direction Raymond had taken. Someone called after her from behind, but she barely heard it.

The garden surrounding the estate was vast, with different varieties planted in each field.

As she moved forward, taller flower stalks increasingly obstructed her view. Inside the dazzling expanse of blooming sunflowers, she lost her sense of direction.

‘Which way did he go?’

Now, she wasn’t even sure whether Raymond had come this way at all. Perhaps he had turned back toward the estate?

She regretted recklessly crossing the garden. The afternoon sun at its hottest was unbearably strong.

As she frowned, a breeze blew. The sunflowers, taller than her, swayed and formed a shifting canopy of shade.

Beyond the swaying stalks, she caught sight of a dark blue cloth fluttering—someone’s back, clearly a man. Without further hesitation, she called out the Duke’s name.

“Raymond!”

“…?”

A figure turned toward the sound of her voice. A hand reached through the sunflower stems and gripped his shoulder.

But the pull lacked strength, and she nearly stumbled backward. Raymond caught her before she fell.

“Your Highness?”

His voice carried a trace of fluster. After steadying her, Raymond frowned and brought a hand to his throat, coughing faintly.

Her heart dropped at the sight. It was clearly an allergic reaction. Yerpi threw her arms around him. Instantly, communion began.

‘I have to do something.’

The spice’s ability affected the dragon’s mind. Conversely, the dragon’s power affected the spice’s body.

But this communion now had little effect on his physical state. Only when she held him did she realize—

she shouldn’t be trying to handle this alone; she needed to take him to a physician immediately. She wanted to pull his arm and rush back to the estate, but the arm around his neck wouldn’t move.

Raymond was holding her. Flustered by the firm arm wrapped around her waist, Yerpi whispered anxiously.

“You need to go see a doctor.”

“No. This seems to be helping in its own way.”

Of course. The fact that he said this confirmed it—he really did have an allergy.

She was relieved to hear his voice still steady, yet abruptly, anger flared within her.

“Why did you accept it if you have an allergy?”

Her sharp tone made Raymond’s eyes widen. Yerpi’s brow was furrowed with urgency, and her angry gaze, her lips slightly parted—these were expressions he had never seen before.

Unlike her sharp, piercing stare, Raymond gave no answer to her question. Then, unexpectedly, it was she who grew anxious.

“Your Grace? Are you alright?”

She felt foolish for getting angry at a patient. Her usually calm heart trembled wildly, out of control.

Maintaining composure was a habit—a habit formed the moment she opened her eyes in this world, tangled with memories of her past life.

But today, keeping that survival-driven calm was proving anything but easy.

Raymond finally responded to her worried gaze.

“Ah, I’m fine. Just… found it a bit strange, that’s all.”

Yerpi’s mouth fell open at the absurd answer. What could possibly be “strange” about knowingly consuming food you’re allergic to?

Raymond offered what sounded more like an excuse than a real explanation, as if trying to soothe her disbelief.

“It wasn’t that severe to begin with.”

Just a tightening in the throat, a bit of coughing. If he’d eaten more, it might have worsened. And had he consumed it raw, the outcome wouldn’t have ended here.

Though she now realized the situation wasn’t serious, her racing heart refused to settle. Above all, the fact that he had accepted food known to trigger his allergy.

‘Even if he knew it wouldn’t be severe, still…’

Honestly, what kind of considerate man acts so strangely? Yerpi muttered inwardly.

“Raymond…”

Yerpi, unaware of why she had just murmured his name, recalled the moment.

‘I was in such a hurry I called him by name.’

In her panic, the name she usually only thought silently had slipped out. He didn’t seem offended, but should she apologize? Before she could decide, Raymond spoke first.

“Better to call me by name.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t know you could raise your voice like that.”

An intrigued gaze fell upon Yerpi. The sight of her, flustered and calling his name, was something new to him. But Yerpi felt the same.

The look in Raymond’s eyes right now was unlike any she had seen before. For the first time, they were truly seeing each other.

Raymond, gazing at her, seemed strangely pleased. Why? Before she could ponder deeply, she wanted to change the subject. Right now, the unfamiliarity he radiated frightened her.

Yerpi averted her eyes, looking down.

“…I’ve heard people with severe allergies can die.”

It was true she had been shocked when Dante first told her about Raymond’s condition.

But at that moment, another memory surfaced—her past life.

The final memory, which had stubbornly refused to return—the reason her life had ended.

‘It wasn’t dying from being hit by a car.’

After being struck, she lost consciousness but was quickly taken to the hospital and survived.

Someone’s tear-streaked face flashed in her mind. But shortly after dreaming of life again, she truly died.

‘It was because of cherries.’

Unlike her current body, her past self had a severe cherry allergy.

She had drunk a juice someone offered her, and the cherry juice mixed within it had led to her death.

Who had given her that drink, and why she had accepted it so casually—these details still wouldn’t come to mind.

Even now, her memories of the past life were fragmented. No, they were almost entirely gone.

She could easily recall the era, the cityscapes, the atmosphere of that world, but she couldn’t remember who she had been, or what dreams she had held.

All she knew was that she had died in her mid-twenties, and that she had had a lover.

Her past life had been first deeply unhappy, then briefly happy—ending in death.

But why, among the chaotic memories, was the content of that novel—“Spice and the Dragon”—so vividly clear?

And why had her memory of her past death surfaced so suddenly now?

But her anxious thoughts didn’t last long.

“Yes. But I’m not like that. I’m perfectly fine now.”

It was common knowledge that severe allergies could lead to death.

She had never dreamed that this would one day apply to her past self.

Raymond’s voice pulled Yerpi back to reality. But her unease refused to fade, disrupting even her breathing.

Her breath grew ragged, then weak. Noticing this, Raymond gently stroked her back, guiding her to regulate her breath.

“Take a deep breath in. Slowly breathe out. That’s it. Repeat it again.”

Breathing felt like being underwater. But under his guidance, she gradually regained control of her breath.

“How are you now?”

“I’m fine.”

Finally, her breathing eased. Yerpi cautiously stepped back from him.

The swaying sunflowers rustled in the wind, filling the silence. It was Raymond who spoke first.

“What about Dante?”

“Ah… I was so startled I left him with the maid.”

She had practically thrust him into the maid’s arms, so Dante was probably furious. Still, she was reassured knowing there were maids nearby to care for the young dragon.

He leaned closer, tilting his head downward, and asked again.

“Were you worried about me?”

“Yes.”

Of course. Even if her past memories hadn’t surfaced, she would have chased after Raymond.

So she answered without hesitation.

‘But… why is he so close?’

His curved lips, his nose, his gently arched eyes—his harmonious face was too near. With such a handsome face filling her vision, her cheeks naturally flushed.

Finding her reaction amusing, Raymond leaned even closer. His face brushed against her nape, and his composed lips came so near they were almost whispering against her ear.