“Nurse you? Of course.”

After arriving at the bedroom, Calliphe pushed Lynen onto the bed.

She neatly covered him with the blanket and smiled brightly.

“Lina will take good care of you. I’ll call the family physician and have him check on your condition regularly.”

“Traitor. Did you trick me?”

“Trick you? I never said I’d nurse you myself, did I?”

“…So you’re going to work again?”

“Since I look healthier than someone who’s staggering like a noblewoman, of course. Take today off and don’t do anything.”

“Calliphe Offensa. You really…”

Lynen looked at Calliphe with eyes full of indignation.

Seeing his face, Calliphe felt guilty inside but just shrugged her shoulders.

It’s not like she didn’t want to rest either. But she felt anxious just sitting still when she could move.

‘The Harvest Festival won’t wait just because I’m resting.’

Just when she was about to leave the room.

An extremely artificial staccato coughing sound came from behind Calliphe.

“Cough. Ugh. Cough. Haah.”

“…What are you doing?”

Calliphe’s eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“Even a third-rate actor would be appalled by this stone-throwing performance… You’re not actually faking it, are you?”

“No, I’m not.”

“That’s a very quick answer? And such a healthy voice?”

“……”

Lynen’s eyes rolled to the side.

With her suspicions growing stronger, Calliphe was dumbfounded.

“Are you really faking illness? Why are you wasting a busy person’s time?”

“……”

Lynen was in a difficult position.

At this rate, his plan to make Calliphe rest by having her nurse him would fall apart. His sacrifice of pride would be for nothing.

But at that moment, an unexpected ally appeared.

“The Duke is really sick!”

Noah, who had been watching from somewhere, came running in and took Lynen’s side.

“…Really? Noah, you knew about this?”

Nod!

“Since Lady Calliphe collapsed, the Duke hasn’t rested properly. He’s been by Lady Calliphe’s side the whole time.”

“……”

“He couldn’t eat properly either.”

“……”

“And he couldn’t sleep well.”

“……”

“Oh, and, nosebleed! He had a nosebleed too.”

Lynen’s expression became increasingly puzzled. But after glancing at Calliphe’s wavering expression, he quickly put on a serious face to support the story.

Calliphe was half-convinced.

“Lina didn’t specifically report anything like that. Is it true?”

“Y-yes.”

“Lynen doesn’t seem like he’d get nosebleeds from nursing someone for a day or two.”

“……”

“Is this really true?”

The scale of doubt was gradually tipping. Calliphe’s eyes narrowed.

But the next moment, Calliphe had no choice but to believe Noah’s words.

“It’s true…”

Noah’s eyes glistened with tears, looking wronged.

Surprised, Calliphe quickly comforted the child.

“O-okay. I understand. The Duke was really sick?”

“Yes. He needs someone to watch over him so he doesn’t get sicker…”

“I’ll ask Lina to nurse—”

Noah’s eyes widened in shock. His expression seemed to ask, ‘Your fiancé is sick and you’re leaving him to someone else?’

Faced with that gaze, more powerful than a hundred words, Calliphe quickly changed her words.

“…Not leave it to her, I’ll do it myself. Yes.”

“Really?”

“Really. I’m so, so worried.”

“Then…”

Noah wiped his eyes with his sleeve and smiled broadly.

“Hit the Duke, please.”

“Huh?”

“What?”

Calliphe and Lynen asked, dumbfounded.

Noah tilted his head.

“When someone’s sick, showing affection makes them feel better… Oh. Right.”

Ah, my mistake. Noah clapped his hands lightly.

“The Duke is sick now, so you shouldn’t hit him, right? Then hold his hand instead.”

“……”

“The Saint said so too. That holding hands when someone’s sick makes them feel better.”

“Did she…?”

“Yes. Is the Saint wrong?”

“No, no. She’s right. That’s right, of course.”

Unable to say that Imelen was wrong, Calliphe awkwardly took Lynen’s hand.

Noah spoke with relief.

“That’s good. Then I’ll tell Head Maid sister to go to the training ground instead of Lady Calliphe today.”

“Huh? Wait!”

Noah left the room before Calliphe could catch him and firmly closed the door.

Then he quickly wrote “No Entry” in large letters on a piece of paper and stuck it on the door.

“Phew. Done.”

He had followed them because he was worried when the Duke looked sick, and ended up intervening without realizing it. He even made up a lie about what the Saint had said.

But he had no regrets. Noah smiled with satisfaction.

“I’m glad I learned how to cry on command from Pimang.”

Dietrich had told him before. “Hey, if your plan is about to fail, just start crying. That’ll do it.”

“Mission accomplished.”

Even the thigh he had secretly pinched to squeeze out tears no longer hurt.

* * *

“So Lucilia is following the Offensa lady as her mentor?”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

The head lady-in-waiting of the palace, who had been commuting to Calliphe’s annex with the Crown Princess, reported to the Empress.

“She shows deep respect without hesitation, treating her with the utmost courtesy.”

“My daughter is going that far?”

Lucilia’s birth mother, Empress Loraine, found the daughter in the story unfamiliar even as she listened to the report.

She had raised her to be a child with a high nose befitting her position as Crown Princess.

Yet, to think she would follow someone so devotedly, even setting aside her pride, despite them just being a mentor.

“Calliphe Offensa…”

The person who brought about change in Lucilia.

Someone who could potentially make her daughter an even more confident Crown Princess.

Honestly, she felt some goodwill toward her.

But.

“It seems like excessive treatment.”

She’s just an ordinary woman with a small talent. Being magically incompatible, she won’t even become the head of House Offensa.

She worried that the future mistress of House Ortega, who should remain a loyal subject, might try to rise above her master.

“It might be good to bring her down a notch so she doesn’t become too arrogant.”

Just then, the Empress’s eyes fell on a letter of application for the Harvest Festival.

Although the Crown Princess was officially in charge of this Harvest Festival, she was still young, so the Empress was also handling the work together.

“This is Viscount Gallard’s application.”

“Yes. It’s a letter to register a sponsored child named Dillen for the martial arts tournament. However, it should be rejected.”

“Why?”

“The age limit for the youth division of the martial arts tournament is up to 14 years old. But Viscount Gallard’s sponsored child is a boy who will turn 15 in a few weeks. He’s already at an age where he can hardly be called a child.”

The letter also introduced the swordsmanship skills of the boy named Dillen.

The Empress’s lips curved upward while skimming through it.

“Hmm… but he is 14 years old at the time of application, isn’t he?”

“That is true, but…”

He would be 15 by the time the martial arts tournament begins.

There were no specific regulations for such ambiguous cases. Therefore, such issues were left to the organizer’s judgment, and Lucilia had been rejecting all such exceptions so far.

But the Empress classified Viscount Gallard’s letter as a youth division participant.

“Come to think of it, I remember seeing the application form for the Offensa lady’s sponsored child, who receives direct instruction from Duke Ortega.”

“Yes, that’s correct. Although he’s the youngest participant, he’s expected to achieve considerable results.”

“The Offensa lady must be counting on that when sending the child to participate.”

After all, a sponsored child’s achievements lead to the sponsor’s honor.

“Make sure the two children don’t compete too early.”

“By that, you mean…”

“Let the Offensa lady’s sponsored child show his skills freely.”

That way, won’t he be defeated by the strong competitor named Dillen at the crucial moment?

“Only then will she understand the deeper meaning behind my approval of this participant and realize her place.”

In other words, it was to establish discipline for the future mistress of House Ortega in advance.

Loraine smiled with satisfaction.