Radilt wore a troubled expression as she wrapped her arms around her lower abdomen, which felt a dull pain.

It was her monthly period. Perhaps due to mental exhaustion, it had been delayed, but then suddenly arrived without warning.

Radilt sighed deeply as she prepared to go out, dragging her heavy body. First, she would go to Count Duston’s mansion and explain the situation.

‘Dancing…… would be impossible.’

Radilt’s pain was quite severe. It had just started and was still bearable, but by lunchtime, she would need to lie in bed groaning. So she had to return before noon.

“You look particularly unwell today. Are you alright?”

Old Peshu, who looked after the stables, greeted Radilt with concern. The black cat Hati also circled around her feet as if asking after her well-being. Radilt replied that she was just a little tired, then mounted Serena.

“Let’s go, Serena.”

She had thought the side-saddle for women was uncomfortable, but today it was better. Radilt started the horse slowly. Even with the slight swaying, her lower abdomen throbbed with pain.

‘……Sigh.’

Count Duston’s mansion felt particularly far today. As the pain in her abdomen grew stronger, Radilt’s brow furrowed deeply.

She should have eaten some dried soktoksae fruit, which had pain-relieving effects. Perhaps because it had started late, her physical condition was worse than usual. Eventually, having to stop and rest along the way, she arrived at Pendlore’s mansion later than expected.

“Welcome, Lady Brill.”

The firmly closed main gate opened, and Radilt entered House Duston. The waiting servants welcomed her, but it was difficult to greet them with her usual bright face.

“The master will be out shortly, madam.”

“……I’m sorry, but I’ll go to the annex first.”

Even riding horseback had been physically demanding, causing beads of cold sweat to form on the back of her neck. Wanting to sit down and rest quickly, Radilt hurried to the annex that had been given to her.

“Is there something troubling you?”

Assistant butler Rosie asked, keenly observing Radilt’s condition. After hesitating slightly, Radilt shook her head and sat on a sofa in the reception room where sunlight streamed in well. She was reluctant to mention her menstrual condition to him, as they were still not close.

“I’m just a bit tired, so please bring me a warm cup of tea.”

“Yes, madam.”

Left alone after Rosie departed, Radilt gently pressed and cradled her stomach. A dark shadow fell across her face.

‘……How do I bring this up.’

It was something mentioned cautiously and in lowered voices even among women. She couldn’t bring herself to tell Pendlore, a man, that she had started her period and couldn’t practice dancing because she wasn’t feeling well.

Perhaps she should just say she had body aches from the workshop being busy lately. Radilt anxiously bit her lower lip.

‘I’ll be like this until tomorrow……’

And what about the workshop? If she didn’t go to work during this busy period, using health as an excuse, Master Philip might not be pleased. She didn’t want to appear lazy to her teacher.

Even amid these troubling thoughts, the pain in her abdomen continued to intensify. Radilt exhaled deeply.

‘……If I say I’m sick, how would Lord Duston respond?’

Pendlore Duston was a stoic man. But Radilt recalled the delicate touch of his hands as he caressed her feet. The touch that could only be described as tender as he cleaned her wounds, treated them, and carefully wrapped them with bandages.

Would he show concern like that time? Would he offer a word of worry, asking what was wrong and how? Would he kindly accommodate her, saying he would handle the workshop matters so she could rest well?

She didn’t want to pass her responsibilities to others, especially that man. But perhaps because she was in pain, today she allowed herself a moment of weakness.

She wanted all the troublesome matters to simply disappear, to lean against a sturdy shoulder, hold a warm hot water bottle, and fall asleep without any worries.

“The master has arrived.”

Just then, with Rosie’s voice, the door swung open without asking for permission. Pendlore entered, elegantly dressed in formal attire for the dance practice, perfectly tailored to his body.

“My dear Lady Brill. Today’s lesson will take place in the central hall of the main building, so let us move together.”

“……Hello, Lord Duston.”

Radilt spoke in a fragile voice that seemed about to break. Noticing Radilt slightly hunched over, unable to straighten her back, Pendlore furrowed his brow slightly and approached her. His cool gaze fell upon her pale cheeks.

“You don’t look well.”

“……I’m sorry. I think I have body aches. You see, it’s the final harvest season for spring flowers, and the workshop has been busy, so I overexerted myself.”

Ha.

A short laugh of disbelief flowed across Pendlore’s rigid lips.

“How many times has it been that you’ve failed to take care of yourself?”

“……”

Radilt lowered her eyes and shrank her shoulders. She had hoped that maybe, just maybe, he would offer kind, concerned words when she said she was sick.

But the voice that returned was ice cold. It was not just rigid but severe, like a judge. Far from showing consideration for Radilt.

“This is the second time it’s related to Langfiel’s workshop, so perhaps it would be better to have you quit altogether.”

He delivered this cold judgment.

“No!”

Radilt shouted, momentarily forgetting her pain. She even staggered as she rose hastily.

“Lord Duston, you can’t! That’s not what we agreed!”

“You mentioned our agreement, Lady Brill.”

The stern gray-blue eyes calmly regarded Radilt.

“The reason I provided you with a position at the workshop was solely to faithfully continue our contract.”

Pendlore lowered his voice so it wouldn’t be heard beyond the closed door.

“But look at your condition now.”

His thick fingers curved to lift Radilt’s chin. A bloodless, pale white face. Cold sweat beaded on her forehead. The face of a woman clearly exhausted and fatigued.

“……This pitiful state.”

A faint sound escaped as Pendlore’s molars clenched tightly.

“With the door of summer right before us, you can’t even practice the most important dance. Isn’t it you who first broke the promise to faithfully maintain your position as my lover?”

Tap, Pendlore’s hand fell away after lightly tapping Radilt’s chin. His cold voice continued.

“Therefore, I believe it is Lady Brill’s natural duty to leave the workshop immediately and make up for the lost time.”

“That’s……!”

Her deep-shadowed green eyes trembled greatly. Radilt’s chest rose and fell with agitated breathing.

“N-no……”

If she had to quit the workshop here, now. Then.

Radilt quickly reached out. She grabbed Pendlore’s arm.

“Actually, it’s not because of the workshop! It’s not because of the workshop, it’s……”

Pendlore’s eyes grew colder at Radilt’s belated excuse. A hint of anger surfaced.

“If it’s not body aches from the workshop being busy, then what is it?”

“It’s, I, I……”

Radilt trembled, unable to utter the word “period.” It felt as if all the blood in her body was being coldly drained away. Her vision swam with anemia, and her mind was in such disarray that she felt she might faint at any moment. All kinds of emotions crawled up from her empty stomach.

“Are you hiding something from me? Or.”

Pendlore firmly shook off Radilt’s hand and stepped back.

“Are you making excuses because you don’t want to attend the banquet?”

“No!”

“Either way, it seems there’s no reason to let you continue working at the workshop.”

The voice, like a death sentence, struck Radilt’s entire body fiercely. Thump, thump, her heart beat heavily but laboriously, as if it might stop at any moment.

“I’ll send someone to the workshop to inform them that you won’t be coming from tomorrow. Rest well today.”

Pendlore turned away as if he didn’t want to hear any more from Radilt. He was about to leave. If she let him go now, she would no longer be able to work.

“I, I can do it!”

Radilt staggered as she ran. She desperately clung to Pendlore, who was heading for the door.

“Dance practice, I can do it. I will. So please, Lord Duston—”

“You are quite persistent.”

Pendlore’s face, turning to look at her, blurred and distorted. Radilt blinked her wet eyes. Her mouth tasted sweet. It melted with a sugary taste, as if trying to draw out the last strength from her drying body.

I can do it, I can dance.

“……Dance……”

And finally, everything turned pitch black.

“……Lady Brill?”

Hearing that bewildered voice as her last, Radilt lost consciousness.

* * *

The woman’s body collapsed helplessly. Like hundreds of thin layers of muslin sagging when wet, she was caught and lifted by Pendlore’s hastily extended arms. As if she might dissolve into white nothingness and vanish at any moment.

“……!”

Pendlore checked Radilt’s breathing in alarm. He could clearly feel the thin breath escaping through her nostrils and between her lips. Was it simply a loss of consciousness? Just as he was about to feel relieved, something caught Pendlore’s sharp senses as he lowered his head.

The smell of sharp metal. The damp, fishy smell of blood.

Pendlore’s body momentarily stiffened. But only briefly; he lifted Radilt in his arms and shouted.

“Call a doctor immediately!”

Amid the commotion spreading throughout the mansion, Radilt’s lips moved faintly.

Dance, I can dance.

So please.

A goose-down quilt, unsuitable for the season, wrapped around the sleeping Radilt’s body. Her complexion was still fragilely pale, but compared to when she had just lost consciousness, there was something that could be called color.