Chapter 34

“Fifteen pieces of dried chrysanthemum candy, right?”

“Yes. You picked the big ones, didn’t you?”

“Of course, My Lady. Would you like to check them?”

“No, I trust you. How much?”

To pay for the candy, Daphne took out a leather pouch from her pocket and set the hair ornament she was holding down on the display. With a soft thud, the shopkeeper’s eyes naturally drifted to the ornament.

“That’s a peach blossom ornament.”

“Peach blossom?”

“Yes. It’s called a peach blossom because it blooms on peach trees. As you can see, compared to other flowers, it’s rather plain and the colors are soft, so it’s not often used for ornaments. That’s probably why it feels unfamiliar to you.”

The shopkeeper kindly explained for Daphne, who had never heard the name before.

“It’s a piece crafted with great care by an artisan, but it hasn’t found an owner yet. Not that it’s surprising—most customers look for flashy ornaments that stand out.”

The shopkeeper picked up the ornament and gently ran a finger over its surface. The mother-of-pearl petals shone whenever they caught the light.

“Did you know? Peach blossoms have a very interesting meaning in the language of flowers.”

“Language of flowers?”

The shopkeeper’s question piqued Daphne’s interest, and she listened closely.

“What is it?”

“The most widely known meaning is ‘charm.’ Wherever you go, you become the center of affection, possessing a rich and deep allure.”

“Being loved by those around you… That’s truly a charming meaning.”

“Isn’t it? But at the same time, it also means ‘overly emotional nature,’ so in the past, peach blossoms were sometimes given to people who couldn’t make rational decisions because of their emotions.”

“That sounds just like you, Miss Sinclair.”

Ryan, who had been quietly listening, added a sarcastic comment at the shopkeeper’s explanation. Of course, his sarcasm was cut short by Daphne’s sharp glare.

The shopkeeper looked back and forth between the two, intrigued. A large, strong-looking man and a much smaller, delicate woman. Yet he shrank before her, like a mouse before a cat, unable to make a sound. Like a paper tiger soaked and falling apart.

Then, as if realizing something, the shopkeeper smiled softly.

“Actually, there’s another meaning to peach blossoms that most people don’t know.”

Speaking in a whisper, the shopkeeper reached out to Daphne and carefully tucked the ornament into her hair.

“‘I am yours forever.’”

Softly, Daphne’s beautiful auburn hair flowed down the side of her face. Over her deep green eyes, Ryan’s face was reflected.

“It’s a very romantic meaning—declaring yourself a slave to love.”

She smiled brightly, showing her white teeth. Seeing her smile, Ryan unconsciously held his breath.

It was as if the world had collapsed, or time had stopped.

As the colors faded from everything around her, her presence became even more vivid and intense. It felt as if all his senses were drawn to her alone.

His heart, which had dropped with a thud, began to beat a little faster, and then faster still.

Ryan swallowed hard. Some undefined emotion seeped deep and red into his heart.

* * *

That day, the two did not head to the Sinclair mansion.

On the way home from the morning market, Daphne began to sneeze.

She insisted it was a pollen allergy, not a cold. But the idea that an allergy she hadn’t had in nineteen years would suddenly appear overnight was hardly convincing.

For quite some time, they debated whether to go to the mansion or not. The two argued, each insisting their own view was correct.

But it didn’t last long. The moment Ryan mentioned Lily’s health, the debate ended. No matter how much Daphne wanted to see her sister, her fear of unintentionally causing harm was much greater.

In the end, Daphne agreed with Ryan and followed him home with a gloomy face.

Clip-clop, clip-clop. The lively sound of hooves rang out over the frozen ground.

Every time her body shifted atop the horse, the packet of candy she’d bought at the market rustled inside the leather pouch at her waist.

The journey home, with only half their purpose fulfilled, felt longer than usual.

* * *

Knock, knock.

A knock sounded at the door—firm and polite.

Lying in bed with the blanket pulled up to her chin, Daphne turned her head.

“Come in.”

Even with Daphne’s permission, the door didn’t open right away. A short silence followed, reflecting the hesitation of the person outside.

After a moment, the doorknob turned with a click. The door opened slowly. Through the half-open gap, a familiar face appeared.

“Are you all right?”

Ryan stood at the doorway and spoke to Daphne. With the light behind him, his expression was hard to see.

“I could hear you coughing more and more from outside…”

“It seems you were right about me catching a cold, Sir Clips.”

Daphne sniffled as she spoke.

“It was a relief we didn’t go to the mansion, just as you said.”

“I’ve informed the mansion of the situation. So your sister will hear about it soon.”

“I see. I was worried she might be waiting for me.”

Daphne let out a big sigh of relief at Ryan’s words.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Sir Clips. I’ll be sure to repay this favor someday.”

“No need. It wasn’t anything difficult.”

Ryan muttered awkwardly at her sincere thanks.

“Is there anything else I can do?”

“No, what you’ve done is more than enough.”

“Then is there anything you need?”

Ryan kept asking.

“Medicine, a drink, or a cold towel—just tell me, and I’ll bring it.”

“Hmm, let’s see. I already took my medicine, and there’s a warm drink on the bedside table. Plus, it’s not that hot, so I don’t need a cold towel.”

Daphne explained her reasons for declining each suggestion. Then, for some reason, she smiled gently at him, who couldn’t seem to leave.

“I’m fine, so don’t worry too much, Sir Clips. It’s just a cough—I don’t even have a fever.”

“How can you be sure you don’t have a fever?”

“Pardon?”

“How can you be sure you don’t have a fever?” 

Ryan repeated, lowering his voice half a tone.

“From here, it looks like your face is flushed.”

“Oh, that’s just because I’ve been under the blanket…”

Daphne trailed off, a bit flustered.

The room was quite dark, with no candle lit. Could he really see her face? She suddenly remembered hearing that a seasoned knight’s eyesight was like a hawk’s.

“Anyway, really, I don’t have a fever.”

Daphne cleared her throat.

“If you don’t believe me, come over and check for yourself.”

“…Then, excuse me for a moment.”

“Huh…? Wait, hold on! I was joking! Just joking!”

She’d only meant it as a joke, but Ryan strode into the room as if he’d been waiting for permission. Surprised, Daphne quickly tried to stop him, but it was too late.

“Don’t come any closer! You might catch my cold!”

“You don’t need to worry about that. I’m very healthy.”

Despite Daphne’s urgent protest, Ryan didn’t flinch.

Thanks to his long legs—or maybe the room was just small—he was by her side in a few steps. He knelt on one knee beside her bed.

“Why did you come over? I said I was joking.”

Daphne pulled the blanket up to her eyes, pouting. She knew it was too late, but she still wanted to keep her breath from reaching him.

“Go away. Go on, before you catch my cold…”

Her voice grew sharp with frustration, but then she felt a cool touch on her forehead. Realizing it was Ryan’s hand, she drew a short breath and fell silent.

“……”

His hand was large and calloused, rough like a knight’s. Yet his touch on her forehead was delicate and careful.

As if he was handling a fragile glass ornament.

Daphne, who had been tense, relaxed at his gentle touch and closed her eyes. It felt as if all the tension melted away, like she’d taken a sleeping pill.

“You really don’t have a fever.”

Ryan murmured as he checked her forehead with a serious face.

“That’s a relief. I was worried you might have caught the flu.”