Chapter 2.7

Was it a dream? 

That was the first thought that came to her when she opened her eyes. They say the world can change overnight. They call it a miracle. 

For some reason, it felt like the illusion created by her obsessive longing, making it hard to grasp reality. The events of last night were exactly like a suffocating nightmare on a midsummer night, and her feverish eyes couldn’t focus properly. 

“Are you sure there’s nowhere else that feels uncomfortable?” 

In the early morning, her mind, floating in a haze from the mild fever, gradually awakened to the serious voice of the Skavisa family’s physician, the sight of three maids in neat uniforms bowing their heads, the stern expression of Barnes, and Julie’s tearful face. 

“Really, there’s nothing wrong. I often get a slight fever in the morning. Julie, you know this.” 

“Yes, but… this is your first time experiencing it in a foreign land.” 

Julie, who had caused this commotion, looked as though she was about to burst into tears. The moment she found out Hillienti had a fever, she had run out and gathered everyone in the mansion. 

It was understandable to be worried since she showed symptoms of a fever despite not leaving the house in the increasingly chilly weather. After all, as a child, she had nearly lost her life to a simple cold several times. 

“When was your last menstrual cycle? When did it begin, is it regular, and could you describe its nature?” 

At the unexpected question, her tired eyelids, heavy from a sleepless night, shot open. The eyes behind the rimless glasses were persistent, so she sighed and answered. 

“It started two years ago. It’s fairly regular, every month… but why are you asking about this?” 

“A woman’s body is like the moon; her basal body temperature fluctuates depending on her menstrual cycle. If yours begins at the end of the month, the mild fever may simply be due to that. Do you usually experience pain?” 

Though his explanation was straightforward, she felt an odd sense of déjà vu. 

The reason the mansion had been decorated with fresh flowers, filled with the scent of blossoms and sunlight, even after the death of the Duke’s lover. The way the servants were unusually kind to her, as if she were more than a temporary guest. The way they rushed to her aid, as if she might die from a mild fever. 

Why hadn’t she realized it sooner? They had already decided she would be the lady of this mansion. 

Perhaps it had been decided the moment Idris called her name. It wasn’t an unpleasant realization, but it was strange. 

“No, I don’t usually have pain.” 

“You’re blessed with a healthy constitution. Still, I’ll prepare some herbal medicine to improve blood circulation. The temperature fluctuations are significant this time of year, so I recommend avoiding overexertion for a few days.” 

“Thank you. But… will this conversation reach Idris?” 

“Unless the Young Master becomes a lady overnight, he won’t hear of it.” 

The physician, who had been closely observing her expression, winked playfully and stepped back. 

“Then I’ll go prepare the medicine. I’ll need the help of your maid, Julie, Miss. May I take her with me for a moment?” 

“Huh? Oh, yes! Miss, may I go?” 

“Yes, go ahead.” 

Once Julie, whose expression had brightened upon realizing Hillienti wasn’t seriously ill, left the room, a soft silence settled. Hillienti turned to Barnes, who had been standing like a shadow behind her, and spoke first. 

“Lady Barnes. Don’t you have something to say to me?” 

“I apologize for what happened last night.” 

“Not that.”

It wasn’t a question meant to accuse her. 

“Did you know from the beginning that I would stay here?” 

“How could someone as lowly as us presume to understand the intentions of the Young Master? We merely follow his orders.” 

So, she wasn’t part of some scheme. Had Idris planned this from the start? Was it important? Did it matter? 

She didn’t know. 

“What orders did he give?” 

“He instructed us to ensure that you lacked for nothing. I can swear that last night’s incident will never happen again.” 

“I see. I’ll be counting on you from now on.” 

What mattered was the future. Lady Barnes, who had blocked her path under Idris’s orders, was also the one who could open doors for her. There was no lingering resentment, and if it had been for Idris’s sake, Hillienti might have done the same. With a bow of her head, she let the matter rest. 

When she offered a glimmer of hope, a kind smile spread across Lady Barnes’s otherwise stern face. 

“Where is Idris?” 

“Before the sun rose, he was summoned to the Imperial Palace. He said he would return before dinner, so he should be back soon.” 

Ah, so he hadn’t avoided me. 

The disappointment melted away, replaced by relief. After telling her to rest well, Lady Barnes and the maids quietly left the room. 

Then, like a flood, the memories of last night, locked behind a door, came pouring in. Gripping the edge of the blanket, Hillienti bit her lower lip until it nearly bled and buried her face in the pillow. 

‘Is this it?’ 

She screamed silently. 

What had I done? Why had I acted like that? 

Reality began to sink in, heating her entire body and sending blood rushing to her head. Idris had kissed her lightly on the forehead as a token of his vow. Then, as he ran his fingers through her hair, he had told her that it was late and they would talk tomorrow, leading her back to her room. 

Frozen by the mere touch of his lips on her forehead, she had walked like the ticking hands of a clock, hesitating at her door and mumbling as she clung to the hem of his coat. He had laughed softly, like the rustle of summer leaves. 

‘Anything more will have to wait until you come of age.’ 

‘…I-I wasn’t talking about that! I meant something like a knight’s vow!’ 

She had stammered, flustered, but he had smirked mischievously, pressing his knuckles gently against her cheek. It was the same teasing gesture he had often made before she turned sixteen. 

‘It’s late. Let’s end it here for tonight.’ 

His voice, his laughter—it was just like the Idris of twenty years old. She had felt like a child again, begging him to play late into the night. Floating on clouds, she had returned to her room and thrown herself onto the bed, kicking her legs in the air. 

“I must be crazy. Truly, I’ve gone mad.” 

It felt like there was another soul living inside her. But the face that had demanded his vow was hers. 

The face he had shown her, one she had never seen before, was simply another side of the Idris she loved. 

She rubbed her heated forehead with her palm. Though the token of his vow wasn’t visible, it felt vividly etched into her skin, her chest, and it pulsed wildly. 

Realizing belatedly why her fever had risen, she covered her face with both hands. Her breath, as fragile as a tropical butterfly, warmed her palms. 

Now she understood why unrequited love was likened to a fever. 

When you have a fever, you’re not in your right mind. 

***

It was only after waking up from the dream that she realized it had been a dream. And with that realization came a sudden wave of fear. 

Was Kashian on his way to Rinshers after leaving the capital? How much did father know? Perhaps it would be better to send a letter first, even now. 

…But would father even allow it? 

“What is all this?” 

The emotions that had been oscillating between excitement and anxiety were abruptly interrupted by the documents Revron, the aide, placed politely in front of her. 

Revron, with his deep, wood-brown hair and eyes, was as familiar a face as Orlang. As the second son of the Ricano Earldom, a close ally of the House of Skavisa, and twin to Orlang, he was a central figure. 

The two brothers were opposites in temperament. While Orlang was cheerful and emotional, often behaving in a way unbecoming of a noble, Revron was the epitome of nobility—thorough and meticulous. 

“These are the engagement gift list and the draft contract prepared by the Young Master. Please review them and let us know your thoughts so we can make any necessary revisions.” 

A draft contract? 

The unexpected term made her lips part slightly in surprise. 

She knew that verbal promises, agreements, and negotiations held no legal weight, but she hadn’t expected things to proceed so formally and so quickly. Pressing her lips together, she tried to suppress the discomfort that rose unbidden. 

She had been drinking tea sweetened with honey to balance out the bitterness of her medicine, but the businesslike atmosphere cooled the feverish flush on her forehead, prompting her to set the teacup down. 

That’s right. What she and Idris had wasn’t a romantic confession of love—it was a transaction. Naturally, this was a necessary process. Engagements and marriage arrangements were formalities governed by law. 

In noble society, engagements weren’t personal affairs but rather unions between families, requiring extensive prior negotiations. Still, the situation felt like being handed a test and told to solve it immediately after learning the basics of the equation. 

“I’ll review it thoroughly.” 

“Thank you. Then, I’ll take my leave.” 

Was the marriage truly so urgent? Well, considering how important it was for him to secure his title without delay, it was understandable—and truthfully, she had also desperately wished for this. 

Yet, she couldn’t help but feel hurt that he had sent the documents through his aide after sealing their promise with nothing more than a kiss on her forehead. She knew her desires were excessive, but still… 

Whether it was a political marriage or a love match, the process of engagement was largely the same. A couple who had reached an understanding would first seek approval from their respective families. Upon receiving permission, the man would officially visit the woman’s family to offer his greetings and prepare the engagement gifts.