Each time a faint moan escaped his lips, Cordelia anxiously shifted her feet.

What should she do in this situation? Cordelia recalled what her mother used to do when she was sick.

First, the child took out a handkerchief and wiped away Caspian’s sweat. She could feel heat radiating from his face. She repeatedly dampened the washcloth and wiped his face and neck.

Afterward, she placed her hand on both Caspian’s forehead and her own to compare temperatures. His fever was still high.

Cordelia pulled back the blanket and rolled up Caspian’s sleeves and pant legs. Then she dampened the cloth again and wiped his arms and legs.

How much time had passed? Only after Cordelia’s diligent efforts to reduce his fever finally showed results did Caspian barely open his eyes.

As she was drying his damp arms with a dry towel, Cordelia quickly leaned over Caspian’s face, casting a shadow.

“You…”

His hoarse voice broke off without finishing the sentence.

He had said to send the child away at daybreak, but Catherine had once again disregarded his words.

As Caspian struggled to sit up, Cordelia supported him. Looking around, he immediately realized that the child had been caring for him.

Seeing the child with her forehead damp with sweat and concerned eyes, Caspian didn’t feel inclined to send her away immediately.

Cordelia handed him a cup of water.

“I just had a nightmare. Couldn’t sleep well… It’s nothing serious.”

Caspian spoke dismissively. Unable to understand his words, Cordelia felt somewhat relieved seeing the young master’s improved complexion.

After thinking for a moment, Cordelia dashed out of the room. Looking at the closed door, Caspian sighed.

All of the child’s actions were abrupt and strange. He couldn’t tell if it was because she couldn’t speak or if she naturally had such unpredictable behavior.

Placing the water cup on the nightstand, Caspian lay back down on the bed.

It was the dream he always had.

A dream that tirelessly repeated with the same characters, same dialogue, and same ending.

In that dream, Caspian was always at the very bottom.

Unable to beg or cling to that cold back, he could only stupidly open and close his mouth with no sound coming out, uselessly just like that…

Thump!

A sudden noise at the door forcibly pulled Caspian from the abyss.

His eyes flew open as he got up to look at the door. It sounded like something had collided with it. He walked unsteadily to the doorway.

“Huh.”

Cordelia stood in front of the open door, holding warm soup and bread. It seemed she had rushed out earlier to fetch breakfast.

Her light brown bangs were completely disheveled. A laugh escaped Caspian’s lips.

He carelessly pushed back his own damp hair.

“You’re thoughtless. Take it away and eat it yourself…”

Before Caspian could finish speaking, Cordelia transferred the tray she was holding to him. Caspian looked back and forth between the tray he had reflexively accepted and the child, with an incredulous expression.

Cordelia pointed to the food, brought her hand to her mouth, and mimicked eating. Then she raised her fists to both sides of her face.

“What are you trying to say…”

Caspian muttered quietly as he entered the room.

Judging by her behavior so far, if he didn’t eat this, the child would clearly hover around until he did. And he didn’t have the energy to waste on unnecessary arguments.

Planning to eat quickly and send her away, Caspian sat at the table. Cordelia followed him in with small steps and stood at a slight distance from the table.

Silence filled the spacious room. Occasionally, the only sound was the spoon touching the bowl.

It was quiet when Catherine or other maids served him during meals too, but Caspian felt that this silence was particularly profound.

Was it because he was conscious of the fact that she couldn’t speak?

Ah, no, that wasn’t it.

Caspian held out a piece of bread to the child. Cordelia stared at it blankly before understanding his meaning and shaking her head.

“Take it.”

Caspian lightly shook his hand holding the bread. After hesitating, Cordelia respectfully accepted it with both hands.

Watching her carefully place the bread in her apron pocket, he realized something.

Right now, he was conscious of this child’s very existence.

This uninvited guest who was so quiet, without voice or presence.

“Would you call Cathy for me?”

Caspian spoke gently to Cordelia as she was clearing the dishes.

Cordelia paused. Her eyes met the young master’s, who was watching her intently with his chin resting on his hand.

His green eyes were indifferent, unlike his soft voice.

Cordelia nodded. The child remembered that the young master called Catherine “Cathy.”

Only then did Caspian look away and stand up.

Before leaving the room, Cordelia turned to look at Caspian. Standing in front of the bookshelf, he didn’t look like someone who had been moaning in pain just moments ago.

The door closed with a quiet sound, unlike when she had entered.

* * *

Knock, knock. Catherine entered with the familiar knocking sound.

Caspian, who had been mindlessly looking at an old book, spoke without shifting his gaze from it.

“You’re here?”

“Yes, young master. Are you feeling better?”

“Yes.”

It seemed the child had told her about his feverish sleep.

Caspian closed the book and looked at Catherine. He briefly wondered how the child, who couldn’t speak and seemed unfamiliar with the Imperial language, had communicated with Catherine.

Suddenly, he recalled the look in the child’s eyes when he first woke up.

Those blue eyes that seemed deeply concerned about him, someone she had met barely two days ago.

Without realizing it, Caspian found himself comparing those eyes to Catherine’s.

Shaking his head slightly, Caspian got off the bed.

“Please prepare bath water. I sweated since morning and want to wash up.”

“Yes, then for attendance…”

“No, don’t send anyone in.”

Caspian cut off Catherine’s words.

Catherine quickly examined Caspian’s face. Though he looked tired, he seemed the same as usual.

“…Yes, I’ll do that.”

Catherine, who had answered after a slight delay, turned to leave the room.

“Send that child away.”

“…”

“I told you yesterday.”

Caspian spoke casually, his expression and voice indifferent as he returned the book he had been reading to the bookshelf.

Recalling how diligently Cordelia had performed her duties, Catherine turned toward Caspian.

“Do you dislike that child?”

“That’s not important.”

“No, that’s the most important thing.”

Caspian scanned the books on the shelf with bored eyes. They were all books he had read dozens of times, to the point where he could recite the sentences from memory.

Catherine thought she should write a letter to the Duke soon requesting new books.

“If you tell me what you dislike, I’ll make sure to guide her to correct it.”

“Then can you make her speak?”

“…”

“Do you think I’m being needlessly stubborn?”

His words were sharp. Only then did Catherine realize that Caspian was in a bad mood.

Catherine’s master generally showed little facial expression, but his emotional fluctuations were significant and sensitive.

Catherine was the person who had served the young master the longest, even counting all the servants in both this villa and the Obenhart ducal mansion.

Even she had difficulty discerning his moods, so it was natural that the villa’s servants found it challenging to attend to him.

“…Is it a problem that the child cannot speak?”

“I told you from the beginning. I don’t need a personal maid.”

“Young master, I—”

“Is this something we need to discuss at such length?”

Caspian frowned. His openly showing displeasure was quite a bad sign.

But Catherine couldn’t back down. She had not hired Cordelia without careful consideration.

“Young master, you’re already fourteen. From now on, you’ll definitely need a servant to attend to you closely. We never know when the Duke might call for you.”

“…”

“And… I think that child would make a good friend for you.”

When Catherine had accidentally seen Cordelia in the marketplace that day, she felt as if the heavy clouds weighing on her chest had instantly cleared.

That child was like a sun that could brilliantly illuminate the young master’s desolate heart, which was withering away as he spent each day in the same room.

The fact that Caspian was showing such hurt emotions was proof that her intuition was correct. This time, Catherine was confident.

Caspian laughed with genuine mockery.

“Do you really think that’s even possible?”

“Young master.”

“If you won’t send her away, I will. You know that, right?”

Catherine closed her mouth. In the end, it was the same pattern again.

It wasn’t that there had never been personal attendants for Caspian before Cordelia. But they all quit their jobs less than a week after entering the mansion. All for the same reason.

“You may leave now.”

Catherine, who had been about to add something, had no choice but to bow silently and leave the room.

Now there was only one thing Catherine could do: pray that Cordelia would not leave the mansion.