“Can’t you hear me telling you to get out?”

The shrill voice was sharp as if it contained glass.

Despite sweating profusely as if it were raining.

Even in the pale face that looked about to collapse at any moment, the glaring eyes did not lose their ferocity.

“Where is the attending physician?”

“Did you not hear what I just said?”

It meant he had no intention of telling. That probably meant he could still endure it.

There was no reason to add more words here.

The task given to me was simply to be a puppet that moved according to his will.

A puppet that reads when told to read, stands still when told to stand still, and holds its breath when told to hold its breath.

There was no reason to go out of my way to create more work.

Just as I was about to turn away, Cassian’s body slumped over.

I approached slowly, but there was no sign of life from the body lying on the bed. Fear engulfed my entire being.

With trembling legs, I opened the door and ran out aimlessly.

Throughout my run, my mind was filled with the not-so-distant past.

One day, my mother had collapsed like that child, in that same manner.

On that unsettling night, my mother didn’t come out to greet me as usual when I returned from work.

When I hurriedly ran into the house, my mother was lying there, not breathing.

With just as pale a face.

As soon as I saw my collapsed mother, I ran back the way I came.

I don’t even remember how I ran, but when I reached the healing houses, they were all closed.

It was natural, given the late hour.

After running here and there, I finally found a healing house that was uniquely lit even at dawn, brought a doctor, and ran back the same way.

The doctor said it would have been a close call if we had been a little later.

That my mother might have never breathed again.

I searched for doctors wanting to know my mother’s diagnosis, but couldn’t gain much information.

Since then, whenever I enter the house, if I don’t see my mother at the alley entrance, I sprint. Steeped in fear.

Cassian’s appearance just now was exactly like that.

And yet, he tried to maintain his pride by telling me to leave. Does he not care about dying?

Well, he who has been given a terminal diagnosis wouldn’t find it strange to die at any time.

With his overly arrogant demeanor always looking down on me, I had momentarily forgotten that fact.

At the end of my sprint, as I reached the reception room, I saw the butler’s back.

As I caught my breath, he turned his head, discovered me, and raised his eyes wide. As if seeing a troublemaker.

I cut to the chase and told him about Cassian’s condition first.

Contrary to my expectation that he would be surprised, he skillfully disappeared to call the attending physician.

As if this had happened many times before.

Watching the attending physician enter Cassian’s room, my legs finally gave out.

After being stopped by the butler when I tried to go inside, all I could do was pace outside.

Not long after the physician entered, groans leaked out from inside.

Fortunately, it seemed he had woken up. I let out a long breath.

As I sat there, several groans passed by my ears.

It was absurd that even that seemed to be in a noble manner of enduring pain.

Do nobles have to maintain a lofty appearance even on the threshold of death?

Perhaps that’s why he spoke so sharply earlier, telling me to leave, trying to hide his illness.

It felt like water was rising up to my chin.

Finally, the door opened and an old man who appeared to be the attending physician came out.

The doctor lifted his monocle slightly to examine me, then passed by as if ignoring me, and the butler nodded as if telling me to go in.

As I entered, Cassian was sitting there as usual, looking perfectly fine.

If I hadn’t seen the situation earlier, I would never have believed this was the person who had collapsed.

He truly was the embodiment of the tenacious Blanchet.

So as not to offend that lofty pride, instead of asking if he was alright, I pretended I hadn’t seen anything and asked.

“Shall I read you a book?”

For a moment, Cassian’s expression contorted.

Surely he wasn’t upset that I hadn’t left him to die after seeing him collapse?

Or was it because I had discovered he was ill?

Perhaps my attempt to pretend I didn’t know had actually bothered him.

As I pondered this, Cassian quickly returned to his characteristic dignified face.

As if he had never distorted his expression.

A cruel smile spread over it.

Just like when he glared at me standing by the window yesterday.

“Forget the book. Read this instead.”

As he languidly lay down, he instantly made a mockery of my heart that had momentarily tried to help him.

A girl’s voice softly echoes over the quiet space.

A snow-white face, a long flowing neckline, the clear voice carrying from the nape of the neck where fragments of a white sun are scattered.

Beads of sweat bounce and scatter over it.

It’s quite satisfying that these are sweat drops shed for me.

I only smiled in front of that child I saw outside the window, but I didn’t go this far.

Thinking about that, even forgiving her for not listening and calling the attending physician becomes somewhat acceptable.

So I’ll keep her around a bit longer. Because it’s amusing.

The humans who came in before, supposedly to serve, were all boring and tedious without exception.

How they didn’t even try to hide their desire to climb the ladder of status by bearing the sole heir of the Blanchet family.

In truth, if such a thing were to happen, my family, the Blanchets, would thoroughly conceal it by silencing them forever. By burying them in a coffin where they could never open their mouths again.

Eliminating such vermin is nothing to the Blanchets.

My mother, who is still searching for a suitable noble lady in the distant capital to decorate the finest ending, was more than capable of doing so.

Not knowing this, they even threw themselves onto the bed.

In the Empire, at the age of eighteen, it wasn’t unusual for engagement ceremonies to be held, marriage talks to be had, and some even bore heirs early.

It means that in such matters, it’s everyday for nobles to get excited and encourage their children.

Perhaps I should have accepted it.

Well, if I had, I wouldn’t have seen this interesting sight.

What I threw in front of that child was today’s daily newspaper.

A faint trembling was contained in the girl’s voice as she read it.

A smile forms on my lips at the trembling of her voice that started at the expected point.

The novel section in the daily newspaper contained a story depicting a romance between a woman from a wealthy family and a poor man of no consequence.

A story with a very different ending from a fairy tale.

That the wealthy princess eventually forgot about that boy and met a prince, living happily ever after.

In other words, it’s a very correct book containing the reality that a prince cannot be connected with such an insignificant commoner.

Unlike typical fairy tales, it was realistic, so it was mentioned as breaking the cliché in novels and was also a bestseller loved by nobles.

I wonder what that child is thinking while reading that.

‘Is she recalling that boy from yesterday?’

The image of a boy with rare silver hair and twinkling blue eyes briefly crossed Cassian’s mind.

Though not a vivid impression, he was a man with a handsome appearance that girls would quite like.

He graduated early at the top of his class in veterinary medicine with a Blanchet scholarship and was tasked with managing my family’s horses.

Hael was his name, wasn’t it?

To entrust a Blanchet’s property to that commoner boy without even a surname must mean his skills are quite excellent.

At least in my father’s eyes.

Given his personality that values horses above all else, he wouldn’t have entrusted that purebred stallion to just anyone.

Come to think of it, I might have seen that silver hair passing by and greeting occasionally.

I don’t remember his face exactly because I didn’t look closely.

Usually, if one goes to the capital, they settle down and stay there.

But that boy volunteered to come back to this rural area.

The characters spelling out Hael’s name that I discovered while looking over the application were quite modest.

The reason for volunteering was that he wanted to go back to his hometown and serve the young master well.

A laugh burst out at those ridiculous words.

To say he came down for me, someone he’s barely seen, so much so that I don’t even remember his face.

If he had written that he missed his hometown and came down, I might have at least pretended to believe it.

At least one thing was certain.

That it was a different move from other people who try to stick to the capital where the path to success somehow opens.

That silver-haired boy who came straight down was sitting watching this child, not the horses.

Standing by the fountain in my line of sight, no less.

That gaze that looked at the girl without missing a beat.

The smile that bloomed all over his face as soon as he saw the girl…

The smile of the snow-white girl as she looked back at that silver-haired boy and smiled.

Everything about it is equally irritating.

I wonder if she knows that the silver-haired boy came down to his hometown with such thoughts.

She must know. That’s why she exchanged smiles that were invisible to me and had such a friendly conversation.

The satisfactory feeling from the beads of sweat instantly becomes dejected.

What does it matter to me if this mere girl fools around with that silver-haired boy or sits laughing?

Ah. It does matter.

If the doll that should be crying only for me dares to hold another in her heart, it will cause problems with the work.

It might be a cruel thought. No, precisely, it would be the kind of thought that would tarnish Blanchet’s nobility if someone heard it.

It might be as brazen as the classic phrase that asks if you now want the whole package after being saved.

But what can I do about this?

Such noble beings are born with brazen blood.

Born not to bear any responsibility.

If she disliked it, she shouldn’t have caught my eye in the first place.

“You.”

The voice reading the daily newspaper stops, and the clear face slowly turns towards me.

“Yes?”

“Didn’t you hear me say not to bring the attending physician?”

The hand holding the daily newspaper lowers modestly.

A gentle trembling is engraved above her characteristic green eyes.

“You were in pain.”

“That’s not for you to worry about, is it?”

Yuriel’s eyes rolled at the unexpected words.

What Cassian said next was even more astounding.

“I’m going to die anyway.”

The young master who calmly says he’s going to die anyway is only eighteen years old.

Some might say it’s old, but in some classics, it’s called the time when flower buds are just blooming and starting to become beautiful.

To discuss death at that age was truly cruel.

It means it would be perfectly natural to resent the heavens.

It wasn’t strange at all since that young master usually acted as he pleased, as if slaughtering others.

At least, that’s how Yuriel had seen him over the past time.

But instead of blaming the attending physician who couldn’t save him immediately, to have an attitude that he doesn’t care if he dies.

That image briefly made Yuriel’s mind wander to her mother.

There was a time when her mother tried to give up everything too.

When she realized the cost of medicine was too high.

Even though that medicine might have extended her life, her mother tried to give up everything.

This high-ranking young master tries to give up everything despite having sufficient conditions.

While some desperately long for life but can’t have it, he doesn’t even long for it.

It shouldn’t be something for her to get angry about, yet she was angry.

“There’s no such thing as a body that’s going to die anyway.”

Cassian let out a chuckle at the sight of Yuriel getting angry.

That image was starkly reflected in the mirror on the opposite side.