BEW 14

 I pushed everyone out with a polite "Go away" and made sure to lock the door myself.

"Don't even come near until you're called."

I didn’t forget to add a firm warning through the slightly open crack of the door.

When I returned to my seat, the doctor let out a sigh of relief.

His complexion was a hundred times brighter than before. Until just now, I almost thought he was the one who was ill, not me.

"It’s finally quiet."

"Thank you for saving me, Madam."

"Everyone here is nice. They might be a bit peculiar, though."

After making sure to preserve the honor of the Richter household, I returned to our earlier discussion.

"So, what exactly is going on?"

"Ah, well... It’s clear that there’s a health issue. But, strangely, it seems a bit different from the usual kind of sickness."

"...I don't understand at all."

"Um, could you please describe your symptoms again?"

"Well, my stomach feels unsettled."

"Your stomach feels unsettled…"

"Especially in the morning, it feels like my stomach is burning. When I try to eat, I feel nauseous, and I have no appetite. My chest often hurts, especially around the epigastric area where it feels like it’s throbbing and stabbing. The symptoms are worse when I lie down."

I listed the symptoms freely, as if I had no ears to hear.

In truth, I was a bit uncomfortable earlier.

Although I appreciated their concern, it was embarrassing and worrisome to confess to a nation of esophagitis in front of people who might be creating unnecessary concerns.

While I was freely listing my symptoms, the doctor busily jotted them down.

"Based on the symptoms, it seems there is definitely inflammation around the stomach area..."

The doctor muttered quietly and scratched the back of his head.

"Could you please let me take your pulse again?"

"Here."

The doctor took my pulse with a focused expression.

The doctors in this world felt different from 21st-century doctors.

If I had to specify, they seemed closer to traditional Korean medicine practitioners.

They read the body’s energy by taking the pulse...

"So, what’s the problem? Is it still strange?"

"Yes. The symptoms indicate that you are indeed ill. However, the energy flowing through your body is normal. No, not just normal—it’s even healthier than most people. It means there’s no unusual energy."

What does that mean?

I’m sick, but I’m not sick?

It was as absurd as a warm iced Americano.

When I looked at him, stunned, the doctor stared back at me with the same bewildered expression.

"So… What am I? Am I sick or not?"

"Well... um..."

After much agonizing, the answer didn’t come easily.

He seemed to be growing increasingly puzzled and glanced at me with a bit of apprehension.

He seemed worried about blaming himself for his incompetence.

"Well, it can’t be helped."

"Yes?"

"It's not your fault that I'm like a warm iced Americano."

"Excuse me? Americano, what?"

"It exists. Anyway, you don’t know the answer right now, right?"

"Well, yes."

"Then please investigate further and let me know. Still, my stomach hurts, so I would like some medication for it."

"…Really? Is that okay?"

"Why not? If it’s a deadly disease, then it would be urgent, but since it’s just an odd condition, right?"

"…"

"I heard that you’re the best physician in the North. If you don’t know, then no one else will. Or is there no North Physician Association? Maybe you could all put your heads together and discuss it."

Why does he keep making me feel embarrassed without giving a direct answer?

"Madam...!"

No, this is even more embarrassing.

The doctor, with a flushed face, stood up abruptly.

I was taken aback by his unexpectedly lively reaction.

"I’m deeply moved by your kindness. This is... a first for me. In my career, even a slight uncertainty would usually result in a reprimand. Of course, that stopped once I was known as the best physician in the North... but even then, everyone would show their disdain with their eyes. I’ve endured so much hardship…"

"Oh dear. That’s unfortunate."

With hollow consolation, the doctor wiped away the tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes.

"Please don’t cry here. It’s making me uncomfortable."

"No matter what, I will uncover the secret of this strangeness. Just trust me and wait, Madam!"

"Oh, well... okay. Do your best."

"Yes! I will do my best! I’ll go study now!"

The doctor bowed deeply and, without any lingering hesitation, turned to leave.

Just then, those who had their ears pressed to the door poured in.

"...What happened?"

Maria and Siena, who had fallen to the floor, awkwardly laughed, while Barhan, who had nearly lost his balance, cleared his throat in embarrassment.

"Um..."

"Just go. Don’t worry about it."

I waved them off and, feeling like it was the right time, they quickly exited.

"What did the doctor say, Madam?"

Siena, who had somehow jumped up from her seat, asked, stomping her feet.

"He said I’m fine."

"…Lies."

"No, he said there’s some inflammation in my stomach, but other than that, I’m fine."

"But earlier, you said it was strange. What was that about?"

Ah, that.

I rolled my eyes for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain. Eventually, I shrugged my shoulders, feeling too lazy to bring up an unresolved issue.

"It was probably just a strange feeling."

"Madam..."

"Enough. Everyone go and do your tasks. Stop bothering me."

Despite their murmured protests, I turned my back and returned to my room.

"Eh?"

But, I wasn’t alone when I returned to my room.

Somehow, Dante had followed me and was standing silently behind me.

"When did you come in...?"

"Did the doctor really say you’re fine?"

...Why is he cutting me off while I’m speaking?

Even if he’s the male lead and my husband, and despite being a handsome guy who was poorly treated by me in the original story...

Okay. I’ll let it go.

After barely managing to calm my frowning face, I smiled brightly and nodded.

"He really said I’m fine. In fact, he said I’m too healthy."

Dante clenched his fists where they couldn't be seen in response to the calm reply. Lies. Seraphina was lying right now. Her slightly furrowed brow and the awkward smile she wore were proof of it. Above all... Right after Seraphina had chased them out. "What could they possibly be talking about for so long?" "...Can you hear anything, Sienna?" "No. I can't hear a thing." The two maids, who had always been particularly close to Seraphina, paid no mind to Dante or Barhan and quickly pressed their ears to the door. Trying not to seem interested, Barhan too quietly edged closer to the door, lingering nearby. Dante, if he were honest with himself, wanted to do the same, but instead, he stood tall, suppressing his anxiety, glaring at the door. In any case, his hearing was sharper than most people's, so he could easily catch what they were straining to listen to through the door. Just as everyone was mumbling quietly and focusing on the conversation, a few snippets started to come through. "...It feels like my insides are burning. When I try to eat, I gag, and I have no appetite... My chest hurts too, but it's more like the area near my solar plexus aches, as if it's being stabbed... The symptoms are severe." "From the symptoms, it seems likely... that you’re pregnant." "...Is that strange?" "Yes. Based on your symptoms, you are definitely a patient. However, the energy flowing through your body... is not normal. It's far weaker than that of an ordinary person." Gasp. At that moment, everyone held their breath. Her energy couldn’t be felt? Wasn't that a serious issue? Moreover, what followed was Seraphina's resigned voice. "Well, there’s nothing we can do about it." Her voice was overly composed. One of the maids, who had her hand over her mouth, muttered softly, "I knew it. Madam already knew everything. Sigh." Dante’s gaze shifted momentarily toward her before returning to the door. His heart was pounding, but he knew he had to hear more of the conversation. And then, in the next moment— "...So in the end, you don't know the answer right now?" "Th-that’s right." "Then, investigate further and let me know. But... I’d at least like some medicine." "...Are you sure?" "What’s there to lose? It’s... a terminal illness, right?" As the conversation continued, everyone’s faces grew increasingly pale. Any more words failed to register in their ears. They seemed to be talking, but no one could process what was being said. Every time they heard phrases like "dying" or "the top priority patient," their hearts sank. But... The one word that dominated Dante's mind was clear. Terminal illness. The only thing that mattered was that Seraphina might have a terminal illness.