Daphne glared at Astaire as she quietly drank the supplement the doctor handed her.

“Ugh.”

“It’s very bitter.”

Not just bitter—the aftertaste stung.

Were supplements supposed to taste like this?

This taste was like…

It wasn’t entirely unfamiliar.

Daphne set down the cup and slumped back onto the sofa.

Perhaps from wasting energy on pointless matters.

Fatigue began crashing over her suddenly.

Her eyelids lost their strength. Her fingers and toes tingled, and an indescribable weakness wrapped around her body.

I want to sleep.

The thought briefly crossed her mind.

“Madam, are you all right?”

“…I’m suddenly tired.”

Could it be?

Daphne stared down at the empty herb bottle. Even staring at it did no good—she’d already drunk it.

That couldn’t be. They’d definitely said it was a supplement. It made no sense to feel tired immediately after drinking a supplement.

Probably just because she’d exerted herself too much today.

Thinking that, she tried to force her eyes open wide.

“If you’re sleepy, you should rest.”

And the Duke keenly noticed her change and added those words.

Astaire had approached and was now sitting beside Daphne. The man wrapped his arm around her shoulders like he was handling a sugar doll that would crumble at the slightest touch, then pulled her toward him.

Daphne’s vision spun exactly half a turn.

She found herself lying down with her head resting on Astaire’s thigh.

What?

“Is there a problem?”

The man asked, puzzled.

“I was just thinking whether it’s okay to fall asleep like this.”

“You’re a pregnant woman. It’s not strange to suddenly feel tired even when you’re fine. Isn’t that right?”

When Astaire continued, looking at the gynecologist, the doctor nodded in agreement.

Daphne didn’t miss it.

The wordless light that flickered through the doctor’s eyes.

Hesitation.

And a hint of fear.

What?

What exactly was she afraid of?

“I…”

“You should sleep.”

She had so many questions for Astaire.

Like the obvious question of whether this was really a supplement. Questions that would be meaningless to ask right now. In the end, she had to swallow the questions circling in her mouth.

Her chest twisted from the questions she couldn’t properly digest, and her stomach felt uncomfortable.

“Urgh…”

“See? You need to rest now.”

When Daphne covered her mouth again, Astaire carefully laid her head down.

He’s not worried about me—he’s worried about the baby in my belly.

More precisely, he’s concerned that something might happen to the heir to the ducal house who will succeed him.

His transparent concern was so laughable that she stubbornly opened her eyes wide out of spite.

“Sleep for a bit.”

That’s when it happened. Her vision instantly went dark.

Astaire had covered her eyes with his hand.

“Rest.”

Once her vision was blocked, strangely enough, her body stopped obeying her again. The weakness she’d felt since taking that so-called supplement made her body languid, and she yawned involuntarily.

In the end, Daphne fell asleep against her will.

* * *

What?

Her body felt strangely light.

Like walking through thin fog, all her senses felt hazy and vague.

Her mind was awake, but her body didn’t seem to be yet.

Right. She was half-asleep right now.

‘Then I should go back to sleep.’

She thought that, but strangely, her body wouldn’t obey.

Rustle.

The blanket covering her fell away. When she opened her eyes again, she was alone in the couple’s bedroom.

‘Where did Astaire go?’

She reflexively looked for that man first, then realized her mistake.

‘Why am I looking for him?’

There was no reason to look. He was probably working or sleeping somewhere else.

What’s wrong with my body?

Her body wouldn’t obey. Her arms kicked off the blanket on their own, then opened the door with a creak and started walking out.

‘This feeling… this feeling is strange.’

Her limbs trembled and swayed.

Even though her body was moving on its own, it felt beyond her control. That’s why Daphne felt strangely anxious.

The sounds and lights around her reached her faintly. Like being trapped in a scene from a dream that kept erasing and redrawing itself.

“This is… strange.”

Even the voice her lips created on their own was utterly bizarre.

Even through her blurry vision, she knew where she was.

She was leaving her room right now.

And.

When she grabbed the hard wooden stair railing, the countless stairs of the ducal estate spread before her, seemingly ready to pour down at any moment.

Dangerous.

She realized it instinctively, but her legs, still half-asleep, moved on their own.

Just as her foot stepped forward on its own.

“Ah!”

Daphne missed her step. Naturally, there was no way she could properly descend the stairs with her consciousness so hazy.

Her body tilted forward. There was something more frightening than her face scraping against the hard wooden floor.

“Laura!”

Calling the fetus’s name, she reached out and wrapped her arms around her baby.

Even if I get hurt, you can’t.

Thud!

The moment she heard the loud thud, Daphne understood the entire situation. It hurt. Her limbs felt uncomfortable. All of this felt unreal. Her body seemed to float in midair.

Bang!

Doors throughout the estate opened, and she heard people gasping in surprise and running over.

“Madam!”

“Madam!”

Multiple voices called for Daphne, then lifted her limp body.

Ugh, it hurts…

Something hurt more than her aching back.

My baby, is my baby okay?

* * *

“What did you say?”

The Duke was startled in the middle of the night while working in his office.

“The Madam has been badly injured!”

Astaire immediately jumped up and ran to Daphne’s room.

How did this happen?

The moment he heard that Daphne had gotten up half-asleep while sleeping, walked around, and slipped and fell down the stairs.

Astaire instinctively knew something had gone terribly wrong.

The situation had completely deviated from the original plan.

“Contact the doctor first. Both of them.”

“Both of them…”

At Astaire’s words to call both the personal physician and the gynecologist, the head butler keenly nodded and disappeared.

Astaire clutched his head as he headed to Daphne’s room. But even so, his steps didn’t slow.

An anxiety he’d never experienced in his life soaked through his entire body.

“That medicine is definitely the problem.”

Astaire muttered, clenching his fist. He’d just ordered them to bring the doctor, so he could interrogate her about the exact situation, but the anxiety was driving him crazy.

The original plan had been this:

The supplement given to Daphne wasn’t simply a supplement, as she’d suspected.

Though Daphne herself had noticed something strange while drinking it, Astaire had pushed ahead anyway.

That had been discussed with the gynecologist beforehand.

What was known as a supplement was actually a sleeping pill.

First, Astaire and the gynecologist decided to put Daphne to sleep.

Then, while she slept, they would stage an act with the doctor according to plan.

When Daphne woke up again, the plan was to have her hear the shocking news of a miscarriage.

The situation itself was somewhat awkward, but they believed that with good acting, they could somehow deceive Daphne. People tend to be swayed by majority opinion, after all.

But suddenly, the sleeping Daphne had gotten up in a half-asleep state, wandered around, and gotten badly hurt.

Astaire spat out in anguish.

“This wasn’t in the plan at all.”

Daphne getting hurt wasn’t included in the plan he’d made.

“…Quickly, that woman.”

Astaire clenched his fist.

She said it was a sleeping pill.

What kind of sleeping pill did she give Daphne?

He had no intention of letting this incident slide.

Bang!

A door opened roughly on the first floor of the estate. Commotion followed immediately. It seemed the ducal house’s personal physician from the annex had arrived.

Astaire headed straight to the room where Daphne and the physician were.

Daphne was asleep, making the commotion she’d just caused seem meaningless.

No matter how much Astaire shouted, she showed no sign of opening her eyes.

Watching Daphne fallen into an unnaturally deep sleep, Astaire shouted.

“What kind of medicine was it?”

The physician quietly examined the drug combination chart the gynecologist had left behind.

Finally, he spoke. “It’s a sleeping pill.”

“I know that, d*mn it!”

Astaire roughly ran his hand through his hair while spitting out a sharp curse.

“What kind of sleeping pill makes someone who’s sleeping suddenly get up, wander around, and get hurt?”

“Well… there’s nothing wrong with the drug itself, Your Grace.”

The physician barely answered, completely overwhelmed by the Duke’s intensity.

But the Duke’s anger showed no signs of abating.

The man closed the distance to the physician in just a few steps with his characteristically long legs.

He thr*st his face forward like he might grab the doctor by the collar at any moment, then ground out through clenched teeth.