Chapter 33

Carlos woke up and habitually reached out to the space beside him. He expected to find warmth there, but only cold emptiness met his fingertips.

It was the same as every other morning.

Opening his eyes, he sat up with a sigh. Leaning back against the headboard, he carefully traced the empty spot beside him. The times when he used to sleep in the same bed with Aneta now felt like a distant dream.

All that remained of her was a faint imitation of her scent.

With a heavy heart, Carlos walked to the bathroom.

It was the start of a day he assumed would be no different from usual.

Neatly folding his clothes as was his habit, he stepped under the cascading stream of water.

He ran a careless hand through his water-soaked hair, feeling the sensation between his fingers quickly washed away by the water.

Carlos couldn’t even take the time to feel the water streaming over the hard contours of his body, as Aneta’s face came to his mind.

‘How did I come to love her so much?’

As he reminisced, his memories flowed down with the water.

The first emotion he felt for Aneta was curiosity. It was because of how deeply etched into his mind was the image of her holding back tears, with pain blooming in her swollen cheek.

Carlos, who rarely paid attention to others, started to become aware of Aneta Adenauer because of that moment.

Curiosity turned into friendship when they got married, but even that soon veered off in a completely different direction.

It didn’t take long for the seed of that unfamiliar emotion to bloom into a flower named love.

Although Aneta always acted as if she had a set way of dealing with him, Carlos couldn’t help but be captivated by the fleeting expressions and glances she occasionally revealed.

A mere glimpse of her smile would make his heart race. When she left, he would sometimes be bedridden with a fever, or spend an entire day staring blankly at his wedding ring.

Carlos didn’t mind these changes. He was already prepared to endure and withstand everything.

If only he could stay by her side, there was nothing he wouldn’t do.

After a slow shower, Carlos dried his dark hair with a towel and left the bathroom.

Even as he dried his hair and dressed, his thoughts were all about Aneta.

The bed they shared, the dining table where they faced each other for meals, the front door where they bid each other farewell and greeted each other—all these places he visited in turn, but she was nowhere to be found.

He should have accepted reality by now, but he still missed the Aneta who once stayed on Baltimor’s estate.

Carlos turned and headed to the garden. Befitting the grandeur of one of the only two remaining ducal houses in the empire, the vast garden was filled with a dazzling array of flowers in full bloom.

Among them, Carlos walked towards a newly built glass greenhouse. Neither too large nor too small, the greenhouse existed solely for Aneta.

Whenever the flowers in the vase in his study showed signs of wilting, he would come here and personally pick flowers for her.

In addition, whenever he had time, Carlos would tend to the flowers and visit the greenhouse to soothe his longing whenever he missed her.

As he gazed at the delicately layered petals of the flowers, Carlos suddenly remembered the knight who had told him about falling in love.

“I’m planning to bring her flowers and ask her out on a date… do you think she’ll accept?”

He couldn’t recall what had happened to the knight, but what mattered now wasn’t the knight’s outcome, but that he had found an excuse to go see Aneta.

“Should I go…?”

Muttering softly, Carlos began to pick flowers with resolve.

He took the flowers to the maid whom Aneta had praised for her skill. Seeing the familiar flowers, the maid naturally created a beautiful bouquet tailored to Aneta’s taste.

“Will this suffice, Your Grace?”

“I hope Aneta will like it. Thank you for your efforts.”

Carlos looked pleased with the maid’s skill, which was comparable to that of a professional florist. Whether or not the maid noticed his approval, he ordered Linden to reward her before climbing into the carriage.

The mansion where Aneta was born and raised was as grand and opulent as the ducal estate. Standing proudly with its blue hue, showcasing the family’s wealth and honor, the mansion presented a picturesque scene.

It wasn’t long after the carriage, bearing the duke’s flag, stopped in front of the mansion that the firmly shut gate opened.

Isabel was the one who walked out through the open gate.

“Glory of the Skies, I greet His Grace, the Duke of Baltimor. …But how did you know to come for a sick visit?”

Isabel approached Carlos quickly, greeting him respectfully while eyeing the bouquet he held dearly. Since no word had yet been sent to the palace, she was puzzled.

“A sick visit? Did you say a sick visit?”

Carlos’s face drained of color as soon as he heard her question. He instinctively clutched the bouquet tighter, though a few petals fell to the ground in the shock.

“My Lady is suffering from overwork and a cold. Didn’t you know that?”

Isabel realized she had made a mistake, mistaking the bouquet for a sign of his knowledge. She looked troubled, understanding she should have been more cautious, even though he would learn of it at court the next day.

“Where is Aneta now? Is she in her bedroom?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Please take me to her.”

Given Aneta’s condition, it wasn’t the right time to ask her permission. Isabel hesitated, considering whether to make a unilateral decision, and then nodded.

“Please come in, Your Grace. I will show you the way.”

This was Carlos Baltimor, after all. Isabel judged that he would not cause any harm to Aneta, so she stepped aside to let him in.

The guards at the gate closed it, and Carlos, guided by Isabel, moved towards Aneta’s bedroom.

“Your Grace, she is in here.”

Carlos paid no attention to the interior scenery of the mansion. He quickly opened the door Isabel had respectfully indicated with an open palm.

A maid who had been tending to Aneta in Isabel’s brief absence was startled and stood up quickly. Though she greeted the unexpected guest properly, Carlos brushed past her without a word.

As he approached the bed, he could feel the heat emanating from Aneta’s feverish body.

He placed his hand on her flushed cheek and grimaced as if the temperature pained him more than it did her.

“How long has she been like this? She seemed fine yesterday.”

“This morning, when I came to check on her as usual, she had a fever.”

Isabel added that, fortunately, the medicine had worked well and Aneta’s condition had noticeably improved.

“This is an improvement?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Carlos wondered how much she must have suffered alone last night. Looking at Aneta, who was still groaning in her fevered state, he turned his gaze to Isabel and the maid.

“I will take care of her. You may leave.”

Even though he was of high status, they were employed by someone else.

The maid hesitated, unsure if this was permissible without Aneta’s consent, and looked up at Isabel. Isabel, with an unreadable expression, nodded.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

***

“My sweet daughter, I hope you get well soon.”

A gentle hand stroked Aneta’s sweat-soaked forehead. Upon hearing the familiar, affectionate voice, Aneta opened her eyes to see the person she longed for.

“If only I could bear this illness for you…”

Aneta looked at her with wide, startled eyes. As soon as she met the concerned gaze, the emotions she had been suppressing flowed out like a burst dam.

‘Elena, Mother. You don’t know how much I’ve missed you. You don’t know how much I’ve wandered, trying to regain the gentle light you used to bestow upon me…’

She tried to say words she would never be able to again, but no sound emerged from her parted lips.

As despair began to set in, Elena reached out once more, gently comforting her.

The touch on her cheek was filled with undeniable affection. Bathed in that radiant light, Aneta found herself reverting to her childhood self.

The unconditional love remained unchanged. The guilt from having tried to ignore that love in her futile past actions overwhelmed her.

Aneta did something she had never done before. She rubbed her face against the hand on her cheek and indulged in the affection she had missed. It was something she couldn’t have imagined during the times she had been too busy avoiding Elena.

Elena smiled brightly, her joy evident. The more radiant her mother’s smile became, the more Aneta’s heart ached.

Then, suddenly, Elena’s hand was withdrawn. Without warning, she began to leave. In a panic, Aneta reached out and grabbed her mother’s sleeve.

At that moment, she woke up. Unlike in the dream, her heavy eyelids lifted to reveal golden eyes shining with concern.

“Ah…”

So it was just a dream. The cracked voice escaped her lips, rough and uncertain whether it was a sigh of relief or lamentation.

“Aneta, are you awake?”

Carlos, holding a small basin of water, asked. He was caught in an awkward position because Aneta’s hand had grabbed onto his garment.

Realizing this only after a fit of dry coughing, Aneta slowly released her grip. Her hastily extended arm ached.

“How are you feeling?”

Carlos placed the basin on the bedside table and sat down, taking her withdrawn hand in his.

Feeling the calloused texture of his hand, naturally hardened from wielding a sword, Aneta cleared her throat before speaking.

“The pain has subsided a bit.”

Though her fever had significantly reduced, her voice was still horribly hoarse. Aneta frowned as the sound of her voice echoed dully in her head.

“But how did you end up here?”

“I came to ask you out on a date, but then I found out you were sick. Somehow, I just had to see you as soon as I woke up.”

He added that he had been nursing her diligently since then, and Aneta was surprised.

“You’ve been taking care of me?”

“Yes.”

Carlos replied nonchalantly as he replaced the towel on her forehead, something he had done several times already.

It wasn’t the kind of task one would expect from someone of his stature, second only to the Emperor, so Aneta was at a loss for words.

A mixture of gratitude and guilt welled up inside her.

“I know you’re grateful. So please, let me stay by your side.”

She had thought the affectionate touch was her mother’s. Yet, even when that hope was dashed, she felt no disappointment.

Could this be part of the change she had been certain of yesterday?

Unable to conclude, Aneta once again drifted into a deep sleep.

*** ***

When she opened her eyes again, no one was beside her. With effort, she turned her head to see the sky tinged with the colors of sunset. The image of Elena from her dream overlapped with the sky painted in various hues.

The emotions she had felt then resurfaced, and Aneta blinked slowly.

What if she could go back to her childhood? Would she be able to accept Elena as she was, unlike before?

‘…No. That can’t be.’

The conclusion was negative. Even if she went back, Aneta would endlessly doubt.

Living in a world where she couldn’t distinguish friend from foe, this was the defense mechanism she had created to protect herself.

‘Has Carlos left?’

Aneta glanced around the room. As soon as she thought of him, remembering how he worried about her as if her pain were his own, the door opened.

Carlos entered cautiously, meeting her gaze, and quickly approached her.

With a look of anguish, as if he had committed an unforgivable sin, he apologized.

“I’m sorry for leaving you alone, Aneta. I didn’t expect you to wake up while I was away.”