Chapter 58

The rain, which had seemed like it would stop after a light drizzle, began to intensify as time passed. The surroundings, which should not have darkened so early, were already cloaked in gray due to the rain clouds.

When Charlotte and Erhen emerged from the Royal Library, a servant from the Rosenheim Ducal Family, who had been waiting at the entrance, handed them two umbrellas. Erhen took only one of them.

“Use this one.”

The servant, startled by the sudden act of kindness, stammered in confusion.

“M-my lord, I can just run to the carriage.”

“Don’t bother getting drenched. Just focus on preparing the carriage.”

Like other libraries, the Royal Library demanded silence and had its main entrance located far from the main building to block external noise. Thus, carriages could only be boarded at the main gate. When their masters appeared, the waiting servants would run to the main gate to prepare the carriages. On rainy days like this, the servants had to be especially quick.

At Erhen’s words, the servant looked at Charlotte with a troubled expression. However, contrary to his expectations, she nodded in agreement.

“Do as His Grace says. This spring rain feels almost frightening.”

With Charlotte’s permission, the servant quickly disappeared toward the main gate with the umbrella.

Erhen then opened the umbrella he had taken. Tilting it outward, the rain pattered against its surface with a steady rhythm. He glanced up at the rain for a moment before shifting the umbrella over himself and pulling Charlotte close by the waist.

The sudden closeness made Charlotte widen her eyes as she looked up at him.

“Let’s share it.”

“My servant will be here soon enough.”

“He’ll know better than to show up too quickly.”

“Is that so?”

Amused by his sincere jest, Charlotte began walking alongside him. Erhen naturally tilted the umbrella more toward her side.

The sound of countless raindrops striking the cobblestones merged with the soft splashing of their footsteps. As they walked toward the library’s main gate, Charlotte spoke cheerfully, hoping the distance wouldn’t close too quickly.

“This is the first time we’re walking in the rain together.”

“Do you like it?”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I like it.”

After speaking, Erhen seemed embarrassed and kept his gaze fixed ahead. Charlotte glanced up at him silently, then looped her arm through his.

Everything about the moment felt perfect.

The raindrops splattering against the ground, dirtying her skirt, looked like patterns painted on colored paper. Even the chill that sent shivers up her arms felt oddly comforting.

They walked toward the main gate without saying another word. Yet, it felt as though they were constantly whispering love to each other.

Contrary to Charlotte’s wishes, they soon arrived at the gate. True to Erhen’s earlier words, her carriage was already waiting there.

With Erhen’s escort, Charlotte climbed into the carriage. As she bent slightly at the entrance, she spoke with a hint of regret.

“Your shoulders got pretty wet.”

“This is nothing.”

Erhen shrugged, brushing the rain off his shoulder with one hand.

“Why don’t you ride with me? I can drop you off on the way.”

“No, I need to check back in at the research institute.”

“But you said earlier that you were done for the day!”

“I just need to confirm something quickly and leave.”

When Charlotte frowned and gave him a pointed look, Erhen hurriedly explained.

“I just need to check the work the new recruit did.”

Seeing Erhen, who was nicknamed “the walking statue,” look so flustered, Charlotte found him endearing. She playfully winked and held out her pinky finger.

“Then don’t be late. Promise!”

“Promise.”

Erhen hooked his pinky with hers. Only then did Charlotte smile contentedly.

Even though he had easily given in, Erhen couldn’t help but smile as he watched Charlotte beam with childlike innocence.

We’ll be happy like this tomorrow, too.

And the day after that.

…Right, Charlotte?

***

Charlotte rarely found herself bedridden, but it had been a long time since she last experienced it.

Perhaps it was because of the rain she got caught in after briefly stopping by a dessert shop to buy something for her parents after parting ways with Erhen. Or perhaps it was because she had spent the previous night lost in thought on the terrace in a thin slip before going to bed. Whatever the reason, the fever that had gripped her that night refused to subside for several days.

The normally healthy daughter of the Rothschild family falling ill with a fever caused a commotion throughout the mansion.

“It’s the flu that’s been going around recently. They call it ‘two-day fever’ because it typically lasts for two days of severe fever before subsiding.”

“As long as the fever breaks, will she be alright? Isn’t there anything more we can do for her?”

“Use a warm, damp towel to wipe her body and ensure she stays hydrated. That will help bring the fever down.”

In the hazy fragments of her memory, Charlotte saw the doctor diagnosing her and her siblings, Johanna and Caspar, worrying beside her.

“What were you doing to get this sick?”

“Shut… up….”

“Looks like Lotte’s mouth is the only thing that hasn’t gotten sick, Mother.”

Even Lucas, who grumbled while fussing over his sister, was there. Charlotte’s eldest brother and sister-in-law also visited upon hearing the news, though she didn’t remember it.

As the doctor predicted, the fever began to subside around the second day, and Charlotte gradually regained consciousness.

Although she could move without much difficulty, the doctor’s orders and her family’s insistence kept her confined to bed for two more days. The prescribed medication was so strong that, even after the fever had broken, it left her feeling drowsy at all hours.

And so, a week passed.

***

Oliver Hughes’s funeral was held with great ceremony.

Initially, Dietrich and the Katarina Foundation had been preparing it. However, to honor the late lawyer’s dedication to the commoners of Rohadin, the royal court decided to organize a state funeral in collaboration with the foundation.

As Oliver Hughes had been a devout believer, his funeral mass was scheduled to take place in the main hall of Hamern Cathedral.

As the time for the funeral mass approached, attendees began to arrive one by one. Among them were members of the House of Representatives, composed of commoners, as well as members of the Senate, made up of nobles.

Lucas, one of Hughes’s students, also attended the service, accompanied by alumni who had been taught by Hughes.

“You’ve worked hard, Dietrich.”

“Ah, Lucas. Your help was invaluable.”

After the disappearance of his rival, Dietrich had been overwhelmingly elected Speaker of the House. With no family to mourn Oliver Hughes, Dietrich took on the role of the chief mourner, greeting the guests. Consequently, opportunists used the funeral as a chance to curry favor with him.

“After all the hard work you’ve done at the Bureau of Public Safety, to take charge of this as well—truly admirable, Mr. Speaker.”

“As a student who benefitted from my teacher’s grace, it’s only natural that I should oversee this.”

People showered Dietrich with praise for his actions. Although the royal court had co-organized the funeral, all the accolades were naturally directed at Dietrich and the Katarina Foundation.

“Professor Hughes must have been proud to have such a reliable student.”

“It was thanks to His Majesty’s support that we could honor him like this.”

“Would the royal court have stepped in if not for you, Mr. Speaker?”

When a representative named Dario subtly undermined the King, Dietrich chuckled awkwardly. Soon, the uncomfortable gazes of the Senate members followed. However, given the setting, no one openly rebuked Dario. Sensing the tension, Dario cleared his throat and returned to his seat.

“Well, it’s not entirely untrue, is it, Sir Dietrich?”

Startled, Dietrich turned to see Michael standing before him, dressed in formal black attire. His golden hair was adorned with a ceremonial hat matching his uniform, decorated with gold embellishments.

Dietrich quickly bowed.

“Your Majesty!”

“If it weren’t for you, Sir Dietrich, there wouldn’t have even been an opportunity to honor Professor Hughes.”

“I am deeply humbled, Your Majesty.”

“Raise your head.”

At Michael’s words, Dietrich slowly lifted his gaze. Behind Michael stood members of the royal court, including Erhen and Giselle. Giselle, who had been managing royal events on behalf of the busy Michael, had naturally played a role in organizing the state funeral. Dietrich’s surprise stemmed from not expecting the King to attend personally.

Michael extended his hand for a handshake, smiling faintly. When Dietrich clasped it, Michael stepped closer.

“Did you know, Sir Dietrich?”

“…What, Your Majesty?”

Michael leaned in and whispered calmly into Dietrich’s ear. The sudden question made Dietrich glance at him with suspicion.

Michael tightened his grip on Dietrich’s hand. Startled by the subtle warning, Dietrich met the King’s gaze as Michael finally spoke.

“The late Professor Hughes… had no chronic illnesses.”