The servants quickly bowed and tried to flee, but Catherine, having already witnessed similar behavior twice before, wouldn’t let them escape. When she finally reached the three or four servants, she scrutinized them with a penetrating gaze.

The first thing that caught her eye was a small tray one of them was holding. It contained several covered dishes, utensils, and a bottle of warmed goat’s milk.

Seeing this, Catherine immediately understood who it was prepared for and what was happening. She looked at each servant with a cold stare and asked again, “Why don’t you answer me?”

At her frigid tone, the visibly shrinking servants exchanged troubled glances, attempting to shift responsibility to one another. Catherine stood before them with an icy expression while they silently argued among themselves.

After a moment, one of them—the youngest servant standing beside the one holding the tray—reluctantly spoke up, defeated by his colleagues’ pressure.

“Um… for the young master…”

When these words, exactly as she had expected, were uttered, Catherine briefly closed her eyes to suppress her frustration.

“We were bringing him a meal…”

The voice that followed was pitiful, having sensed the ominous atmosphere emanating from Catherine. The young servant was trembling visibly, not even trying to hide his fear.

Catherine took slow, shallow breaths to keep herself from raising her voice. Saul had not yet awakened, and she wanted to avoid causing a commotion until he did. She spoke calmly to the young servant, “Go fetch the butler.”

The servant’s face instantly turned pale, but Catherine didn’t retract her order.

“Quickly.”

At this second stern command, the young servant turned away with a face that seemed on the verge of tears and descended the stairs.

For a moment, only the sound of fading footsteps could be heard. When even that sound disappeared, a silence so complete that not even breathing could be heard settled over the landing while they waited for the butler.

Fortunately or unfortunately, it didn’t take long for the young servant to return with the butler. The butler’s expression was grim, suggesting he had already been informed of the situation by the young servant who had gone to find him.

Catherine didn’t question him at length.

“Is there anyone among them who has permission to access the third floor?”

“No, my lady.”

“I apologize,” the butler added with a bow. Nothing more needed to be said. Catherine, unable to hide her complicated feelings, exhaled deeply once more and turned away.

The sound of the butler admonishing the servants soon faded beneath her feet as Catherine’s maid followed closely behind her.

Lost in thought as she climbed the stairs, Catherine soon sensed the girl’s presence and stopped. Remembering that David had missed his meal, she ordered the girl to send food up and dismissed her to the kitchen.

After watching the girl descend the stairs for a moment, Catherine turned back and continued climbing. She was already running late after speaking with the priest. Catherine briefly recalled the priest saying goodbye before returning to the central temple to report Saul’s miraculous revival.

They seemed eager to spread the news as quickly as possible, almost like their bodies were on fire. Catherine didn’t try to detain them as they departed in obvious haste.

She was glad to see them leave the manor. Though they had maintained a veneer of politeness throughout their stay, they had subtly revealed their contempt for a noblewoman left alone.

Had Saul not revived, Catherine would have had to overlook their rudeness until all funeral proceedings were complete.

But Saul was alive, making such thoughts unnecessary now. Catherine trampled down the intrusive thoughts that kept surfacing and walked briskly toward Saul’s bedroom. Upon reaching it, she paused before the half-open door to catch her breath.

The bedroom was as quiet as it had been before Catherine fell asleep. She quietly took one step inside and then stopped. By Saul’s bedside, still unconscious, sat David, hunched over.

His clothes were clean, suggesting he had taken time to refresh himself while Catherine slept. She stared at David’s curved back, the white nape visible above his collar, and the golden hair cascading over it as she slowly walked further into the room.

Up close, she could see that David was praying with his hands clasped beside Saul. With his forehead resting on his interlocked fingers and his eyes closed, he almost appeared to be sleeping, but his lips were moving slightly, seemingly reciting a prayer.

Seeing this, Catherine finally understood why the servants had caused such a commotion. The contrast became starkly apparent as she observed him alongside the pale, bedridden Saul.

From a servant’s perspective, it seemed natural that their hearts would gravitate toward the beautiful and healthy David rather than Saul, who still looked like he might perish at any moment despite his revival.

If Saul were to draw his last breath again, David would become Cavendish’s new master, so it was only natural for the servants to want to curry favor with their potential new lord.

Though she understood their position, Catherine couldn’t help feeling a bitter taste in her mouth. Trying hard to conceal her complicated emotions, she carefully placed her hand on David’s shoulder.

“Ah… Lady Catherine.”

Startled by her sudden presence, David looked up with undisguised surprise. The moment she saw his face, Catherine instinctively realized he had remained in Saul’s bedroom without rest. 

Noting his somewhat pale complexion, worn with fatigue, she asked in a concerned tone, “Have you been here the whole time?”

“Not the entire time… I took a brief rest when Samuel was here.”

Samuel was Saul’s physician. Catherine understood that David had probably only left to wash up while Samuel was present. Judging by the servants’ reaction earlier, he had even skipped meals, apparently not moving from this room at all.

“It seems you’ve missed your meals…”

At these words, David’s gaze shifted toward the window, seemingly checking the time.He appeared to have just realized how much time had passed. Had Catherine been unaware of everything, she might have thought this showed remarkable brotherly affection.

She looked down at David, who was rubbing his eyelids tiredly, then turned her gaze to the still-sleeping Saul.

Lying with his eyes closed, Saul didn’t look much different from when he was near death. He was thin and gaunt, and without careful observation, it was difficult to even notice he was breathing.

Catherine approached Saul’s side and caressed his thin face with an affectionate touch. Having lost him once, she now seemed to understand. As she felt Saul’s threadlike breath brush against her fingertips, she belatedly acknowledged her own feelings.

Catherine loved Saul… Though perhaps not passionately, she might have been mistaking the attachment formed during their brief time as husband and wife. Somehow, Catherine had the premonition that she could never turn away from this pitiful, fragile man.

No, this was closer to certainty. She smiled wryly, not understanding these feelings herself.

Foolish Catherine… you will never escape misfortune. With her throat inexplicably tight, Catherine was gently stroking Saul’s gaunt cheek with her lips pressed together when—

“Lady Catherine.”

She heard a soft voice calling her. When Catherine turned, David was looking at her with a somewhat anxious expression. As she gazed at those blue eyes—so like Saul’s—blinking slowly, an unfamiliar warmth suddenly touched her hand.

Catherine was startled and about to step back when—

Knock, knock. There was a knocking sound.

Startled by the sudden noise, Catherine turned toward the door.

“My lady, I’ve brought the meal. May I come in?”

It was the butler’s voice. His shadow was visible through the half-open door. Catherine opened her mouth to answer, but before she could respond, David’s actions left her frozen.

In an instant, the touch that had brushed against her wrist slid slowly downward. It caressed along the side of her hand before carefully enveloping her knuckles.

She could feel the base of her ring and little fingers being gently pressed within David’s palm. His firmly rounded thumb softly stroked the back of her hand.

Then it slowly traced a long line from the back of her hand between her knuckles. The probing thumb reached the hollow space between her middle and ring fingers, exploring and rubbing.

David’s blue eyes stared at Catherine. She felt like she couldn’t breathe. After a long moment of rubbing, his fingertip touched the base of her ring finger. The smooth part of his well-manicured nail slid down her ring finger.

Catherine remained frozen, unable to exhale the breath she had taken so deeply her chest had swelled. Even until the moment his nail scraped down to her fingertip, brushing against her own nail before falling away.

For several seconds—perhaps not even that long—tense gazes were exchanged. Catherine belatedly clutched the hand David had been holding and staggered backward.

“My lady?”

Thud. She felt the edge of the bed hit the back of her knees. Catherine looked up with a start. Only then did her blocked breath burst forth. She opened her mouth, but her tongue felt stiff, so she closed it again.

It was difficult to swallow past the lump in her throat. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, making even breathing feel laborious. David’s blue gaze remained fixed on Catherine.