BEW 3

"Something's definitely up with the Madam... She might be seriously ill."

Rumors began to sprout around the same time as the seeds Serafina planted started to grow.

"Marie, the seed I planted is sprouting! Wow, I'm so proud. Maybe I have a knack for growing herbs."

Serafina, unusually excited, was showing off the tiny sprouts peeking out from her plot. She wore an old, borrowed dress, deeming noblewomen's dresses too cumbersome, and sported a straw hat she had taken from Markovs. She stopped every passerby to boast about her new seedlings.

The servants, hearing the news, started passing by the garden just to hear the Madam’s proud announcements.

Marie was one of them. Although she came of her own volition, she felt awkward in the unfamiliar setting and let out a hesitant laugh.

Gathering her courage, Marie spoke to Serafina. "What kind of herb is Sandrapul good for?"

"It's good for headaches. Especially if you eat it when your temples are throbbing, it works like a charm."

The explanation was more detailed than she had expected. Now that she thought about it, it seemed the Madam had been reading a lot of books about herbs.

"But, Madam, why did you decide to start growing herbs?"

"It was a childhood dream."

"...Did you suddenly want to fulfill a childhood dream? Oh dear."

Marie was startled by her own words. She always told Sienna to watch her tongue, but she couldn’t even do it herself.

Fortunately, Serafina didn't seem to mind.

"You only live once. I want to live the rest of my life with no regrets, so I thought I should fulfill some childhood dreams."

Sienna's expression hardened at Serafina’s offhand remark as she gazed at the sprouts.

Living life with no regrets? The words had a strange ring to them. Maybe it was because they reminded her of her late grandmother's last words before she passed, or perhaps it was the irreverent rumors that briefly circulated after the Madam’s sudden change.

Some had wondered if the Madam had injured her head...

"Ah-choo!"

Right then, Serafina let out a dry cough.

"Are you okay, Madam?"

"Yeah, maybe I got too much fresh air. I was so excited, I stayed outside all day..."

"Heavens, you should go inside. You’re not even fully recovered."

"...Huh? I'm weak?"

"Of course. You were bedridden until just the other day. If you push yourself too hard all of a sudden, you’ll get sick."

"I've been out of bed for a month."

However, Marie, who was supporting Serafina, didn't hear a word. All she could think was how frail the Madam looked as if she might break at the slightest touch.

It was only after she had forcibly changed Serafina's clothes and gotten her into bed that Marie left the room and let out a deep sigh. And that was the problem.

"Why the sigh?"

To be precise, the problem arose when Gina noticed and asked.

"It's just... the Madam seems so fragile. She's saying strange things too... I'm worried she might be ill."

No, that wasn't the real problem.

The problem was Marie’s response.

"You're worried the Madam might be sick?"

Gina was kind but had a loose tongue. Marie had momentarily forgotten this.

Anything Gina heard would be known to all the servants within an hour.

Moreover, the rumor gradually morphed as it spread.

"You're worried the Madam might be sick?"

"I'm worried the Madam seems sick."

"I'm worried the Madam is sick."

"The Madam is sick."

When the rumor finally made its way back to Marie, it was:

"Something's definitely up with the Madam... She might be seriously ill."

"Oh my, is she really sick? That's terrible."

Marie could only be genuinely concerned about the now established illness, unaware that it stemmed from her own baseless worry.

* * *

Three days had passed since I was forcibly confined to bed. Tears welled up as I looked out the window at my precious herb garden.

I want to go out.

I really want to go out.

I had planned to stay in bed for just one day and then sneak out, but more and more people were holding me back each day.

When I was stuck in bed, they were desperate to drag me outside. Now that I'm out, they can't wait to tuck me back in.

"I’m really not sick."

"But Madam, please rest a bit longer. You don't look well."

"I never look well. It must be genetic. Now let me out."

"Madam. Please."

Okay, now I'm starting to feel sick.

My blood pressure is rising, and I feel like I'm going to die soon.

To prove my health, I lay sprawled out on the bed. Then, I started kicking and flailing about, throwing a tantrum.

"My little sprouts are crying! They’re crying for their mom! They have separation anxiety!"

"Your sprouts want to see a healthy mom too."

"Actually, the separation anxiety is mine. I'm so anxious right now. Please, let me out."

It was at that moment.

I heard a polite knock on the door.

Panting from rolling around and shouting, I sat up.

“Come in.”

No sooner had I spoken than the door opened, revealing Barhan, who looked pale.

“Madam, are you alright? I heard you were ill. Oh, my goodness. Heavens.”

Damn it.

In the end, I was allowed to leave my room two days later.

After the doctor Barhan brought had me open my mouth, close my eyes, open them again, raise my hand, lower my hand, repeating the process several times,

"While your constitution is naturally weak, there’s nothing immediately worrisome."

He confirmed my health.

Doctor, nice.

"But you are indeed frail, so it would be best to limit your outdoor activities. Don’t stay outside for more than an hour a day. Spring in the North is quite chilly."

Doctor, not nice.

Thus, my gardening time was reduced to one hour a day.

Spending the entire day hovering around the garden and then only being able to spend an hour there was unbearable.

So, I decided to start another hobby for my future plans.

Baking.

“You want to bake cookies yourself, Madam?”

“Yes. Is that a problem?”

“It’s not that, I’m just worried you might get hurt.”

“Don’t worry. Apart from my heart already being in tatters, there’s nothing else to worry about. I’m good at baking.”

“Is this how Markovs feels?”

Though Ena, the head chef, muttered that, she eventually gave me a spot in the kitchen.

The first cookies I made were herb cookies.

It would have been better to use herbs I grew myself, but unfortunately, my babies were still too young.

I had to make do by grinding up some dried herbs stored in the duchy.

“You really know how to bake cookies?”

Ena was impressed with the fairly decent cookies I’d baked.

“See, I told you I’m good at it.”

Had she lived her life always underestimating people?

Feeling proud, I puffed out my chest and broke a cooled cookie in half.

The sound of success, “Snap,” rang out pleasantly.

“Here, try it.”

“...You’re giving it to me?”

“Of course. I made plenty to share with everyone.”

Ena looked at me with the expression of someone watching a child successfully complete a task for the first time.

“Everyone will be delighted.”

“Really?”

“Absolutely. Thank you, I’ll enjoy it.”

With a grateful expression, Ena put half the cookie in her mouth.

Does it taste good?

It must taste good, right?

Ena’s chewing, which had been steady, gradually slowed down.

...What kind of expression is that?

Eventually, she stopped chewing altogether, her face frozen in an unreadable expression.

“Could it be... not tasty?”

That’s strange.

I was pretty good at baking cookies.

Feeling disappointed, I slumped my shoulders and asked, and Ena shook her head vigorously.

“No, no? It’s delicious. Really delicious and very, very... healthy.”

“Right? Isn’t it? I told you I bake good cookies.”

I replied with a big smile and popped another cookie into my mouth.

“Wait a minute.”

“Mmm. It really is good.”

“...Yes, right. Exactly. Haha. Ha.”

What’s with that weird laugh?

When I offered her another cookie, Ena waved her hand, saying she’d feel bad eating them all by herself and wanted to share with others.

As expected, she was a kind head chef of the Richter family.

I busily packaged the cookies, with Ena helping even more enthusiastically than me.

“Here. Have a cookie. I made them myself.”

Carrying the nicely wrapped cookies, I went around the mansion, giving them to everyone I met.

Those who received the cookies smiled brightly, thanking me, but after eating them, they were at a loss for words.

Wow.

They must be so good that they’re speechless.

Feeling proud, I decided to focus on making cookies for a while.

I heard the news of my husband’s return while making cookies with ground Hokan tree roots.

“...You’re baking cookies again?”

“Yep. The ground Hokan tree root is good for the stomach. I’ll share them with everyone once they’re done.”

Marie smiled slightly at my words.

“Could we just destroy the oven...?”

“Hmm? What did you say?”

“Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”

Strange. I thought she mumbled something.

Well, never mind.

“By the way, you said the Duke is returning soon?”

“Yes. We received a carrier pigeon from the direction of the northern forest. He should arrive by the end of this week at the latest.”

This week, huh.

The Duke left about ten days before I started recalling my childhood.

So, he’ll be back in roughly a month...

Wow. This is going to be awkward.

And I felt a pang of guilt.

I remembered how I always hid and looked at him like he was some kind of monster.

Oh, God. That must have made him feel really bad.

From now on, I’ll treat him like a precious seedling.

Cherish and love... well, the female lead will take care of that part, so I’ll just try to be a good friend.

To do that, I need to correct the terrible first impression I left long ago...

At that moment, my eyes fell on the cookie dough.

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