Although Isabella had regained consciousness, she was unable to simply rise from her hospital bed. After being in a coma for so long, her body was far from normal.

Her muscles were completely weak, and her knees made faint grinding sounds, as though they were an unlubricated machine. Nevertheless, the doctors said this was an improvement, thanks to the nurse’s constant care. Hearing this only deepened her sense of helplessness.

She was sure that she could stand up and walk out of the room at any moment. But her body refused to obey.

Initially, following the doctor’s firm warning not to overexert herself, Isabella continued her rehabilitation exercises while seated on the bed. Once she was allowed to eat regular meals instead of bland patient rations, she started practicing walking

Even climbing down from the bed while holding onto the railing took a great deal of time and energy.

“Ah…!”

When Isabella’s feet first touched the floor, she could only take a few steps before collapsing. It was as though she had forgotten how to bear weight on her legs; her knees gave way without warning. Each step was uncertain; her feet failed to support her properly.

Still, she refused to give up. She tried again and again to get up until finally she lost all her strength.

“That’s enough for today. For a first attempt, this is more than enough.”

Kneeling before her, Logan slipped an arm between her waist and legs and lifted her gently. Now that she was eating properly again, she had gained a little weight, yet she was still astonishingly light in his arms.

“I’m upset that I can’t even walk properly.”

Burying her face in his chest, Isabella spoke in a quiet voice. Despite having only moved a little, she was breathing heavily as though she had run at full speed. She resented her body for not obeying her.

“Take it slowly. There’s no need to rush.”

After gently helping her lie back against the pillows, Logan spoke in a calm, steady voice. She had only fallen once. Rehabilitation was not something that could be achieved overnight; overdoing it would only lead to injury.

After learning of her parents’ deaths, Isabella had been unable to eat for days. During that time, Logan had lived in constant fear that her weakened body might deteriorate further. There was no need to rush. The most important thing was that she did not hurt herself.

With this in mind, he gently tried to ease her impatience. But even as he comforted her, Isabella’s lips remained faintly pouted.

She was determined to recover quickly for a reason: ‘I want to visit my parents as soon as possible.’

Logan had told her that if she wanted, he would carry her there himself. But Isabella had refused.

It was her determination to stand before her parents’ graves on her own two feet that had pulled her back from despair. This resolve had driven her to eat again after days of refusing food and had inspired her to devote herself so earnestly to rehabilitation.

She wanted to appear before them in good health. She remembered their final words of advice: she must live well.

She did not want to cause her parents, who she believed were still watching over her, any worry.

Logan understood her feelings and supported her unreservedly.

He provided her with three balanced meals a day and hired the Empire’s finest rehabilitation therapist to create the best possible environment for her swift recovery.

“A quick recovery is good, but absolute stability comes first. You mustn’t push yourself.”

Leaning one hand against the bed, Logan pressed a gentle kiss to Isabella’s forehead.

“Yes, I understand.”

Avoiding his gaze, Isabella lowered her head as she answered. His nagging was no different from before, yet the intimacy that had so naturally woven itself into their interactions still felt unfamiliar.

‘How am I supposed to face him…?’

Her heart had always fluttered in his presence. Now that all her memories had returned, however, she was uncertain how to respond to him.

Should she treat him as the duke, as she had in recent years?

Or should she treat him as the young man who had once taught her to read and write?

Having grown up almost like siblings, the answer was even harder to decide.

Flustered, Isabella hid her reddening face.

***

Isabella’s rehabilitation continued.

Several days passed before she was able to walk the short distance from her bed to the door. Some days, even those few steps felt impossible, as though all her progress had disappeared and she had reverted to square one. One day she would seem stronger than before; the next, she would struggle just to stand.

Even so, Logan never left her side.

Although this slow, uneven progress could have tested anyone’s patience, he did not rush her. He stayed where he was, quietly watching over her and letting her find her own balance. He only offered his hand when she truly needed it.

At a time when he should have been promoting his newly opened hotel and attending public engagements, Logan reduced his workload to the bare minimum so that he could stay by her side. Some questioned his decision. But he paid no heed to their opinions.

What he needed to protect was not his business or his reputation. It was Isabella alone — the woman he loved and his entire world.

After she woke up, Logan began to live according to her rhythm. They had breakfast together, and he helped with her rehabilitation. While she practiced walking along the corridor holding the railing, he stood slightly behind her, matching her pace in case she fell.

“One, two, three…”

In time with Logan’s voice, Isabella slowly lifted her feet.

Her legs were covered in bruises from countless falls, yet she did not miss a single day of training. Whenever she felt like stopping, she would look down at the pair of shoes moving in step with her own.

Without looking up, she could sense him close enough to touch her at any moment.

“Ah!”

In a brief lapse of concentration, Isabella’s foot tangled.

Just as she began to fall, Logan moved first.

“You need to be careful.”

“I can do it on my own.”

Catching her breath, Isabella pushed away the arm wrapped around her waist and forced herself to stand again.

“I know. That’s who you are.”

Logan let out a quiet laugh.

“But I’ll always be here to catch you.”

So that she could rise again.

After helping her steady herself, Logan took a step back.

Like a child taking their first steps, Isabella walked forward, arms slightly outstretched, carefully holding herself upright. As her world gradually widened, color slowly returned to her face.

She was still slow and clumsy. But she was undeniably improving.

***

Perhaps it was the strength of Isabella’s resolve.

Or perhaps it was the result of her relentless efforts and her ability to endure pain day after day without complaint.

Gradually, her hard work began to pay off. With each passing day, her stamina improved. The gauntness of her face softened, a healthy color returned to her cheeks, and warmth gradually replaced the pallor of her complexion.

Encouraged by her faster-than-expected progress, the attending physician cautiously suggested that she might soon be ready for discharge.

That morning, Logan had gone to the hotel early for an important meeting. In his absence, Isabella quietly ate the breakfast that the nurse had prepared for her.

After finishing her warm soup and bread, she watched the nurse tidy the room with practiced care. The water in the vase on the table was changed. The fresh flowers were removed and replaced with a newly arranged bouquet.

As Isabella observed in silence, a flicker of curiosity rose within her.

“The flowers seem to change every time.”

Especially in the cold of winter, when flowers were costly, she did not understand why they were replaced before they had even begun to wilt.

“Yes. We change them every three or four days.”

“Every three or four days?”

At that, Isabella looked toward the vase again. The petals, fresh as if just bloomed, were unblemished and vibrant. With proper care, they would have easily lasted a week.

“It was the same while you were unconscious, Miss Isabella.”

The nurse paused and smiled gently at her surprised expression.

“It was the Duke’s instruction. He said that since we didn’t know when you might awaken, you must never open your eyes to see wilted flowers. He ordered that they always be replaced with fresh ones.”

For the many months that Isabella had lain unconscious, the flowers had been replaced faithfully and on schedule. Although there was never any guarantee that she would wake up, the Duke never rescinded his order. Even after she regained consciousness, the order continued.

Aware of the depth of the Duke’s devotion to Isabella, the nurse rose at dawn each day to visit the flower market, never once complaining.

When she added softly that the Duke must cherish Isabella very deeply, the nurse turned her gaze to the fresh bouquet resting in the vase.

A quiet, tender emotion flickered across her face.