“I feel like I can live.”
A few days later.
My physical condition was steadily recovering.
“I’m so glad, my lady.”
“I was really worried. Huhuh.”
Marie and Siena, who had stayed by my side the longest, were on the verge of tears at the sight of my regained health.
No, Siena was already crying.
I felt a lump in my throat as well. I realized once again how heartwarming it is to have someone genuinely worry about me.
“Thank you both. You must have been very worried?”
“Is that even a question...? I was really worried that something might happen to you...!”
“Siena.”
“Sniff.”
I chuckled at the two of them, who were just like usual.
Well, I had been a little worried myself this time, wondering if I might actually die.
For two people who are overly protective, it must have been quite concerning.
“I’ll be healthy from now on. I promise.”
“...Yes. Please, really don’t get sick.”
“That’s right. You have to keep your promise, okay?”
“Of course. I’ll only be healthy from now on.”
Huh? Why are they tearing up again?
At my promise of health, the two of them showed a choked expression once more.
This sudden flow of emotions was baffling, but I also felt my nose twitching.
* * *
“Just fight already!”
Watching the frustrating protagonist from the original work, I often thought that way.
I felt it would be more refreshing to have a big fight than to keep silent and dig a hole.
After all, there’s a saying that a couple’s quarrel is like cutting water with a knife.
Once you fight and make up, wouldn’t it be better?
Yeah. I definitely thought that way, but...
“My lady, are you really not going to make up?”
That didn’t mean I wanted to have a couple’s quarrel.
“I won’t. I’m not going to make up.”
I shook my head firmly at Marie’s worried question.
In the meantime, my nose was running due to the lingering effects of the cold.
Marie sighed and handed me a handkerchief.
...She didn’t sigh because of my runny nose, right?
Fortunately, it seemed that wasn’t the case.
“What on earth did you fight about? You were getting along so well.”
What did we fight about?
Hah. Just thinking about it made my blood boil and my sense of injustice rise.
“I don’t know. I didn’t do anything wrong.”
Yeah. I really didn’t do anything wrong. I’m the one who’s wronged!
The prologue to our quarrel dates back to last night.
* * *
Last night.
Thanks to my significantly improved condition, I had a hearty meal when Dante came to visit.
“Dante!”
Maybe because I had been sick, seeing him sober was incredibly welcome.
“Are you feeling a bit better?”
“Yes. I’m much better now.”
“That’s a relief.”
I could feel his genuine relief in his expression.
He really worried a lot.
My heart swelled with emotion. Truly, a man who is tough on the outside but soft on the inside.
A kind man disguised as a regretful man.
I resolved once again.
I would do my utmost to ensure Dante could be happy.
So, I was still troubled by the worry etched on his face.
Well, I suppose it’s understandable since I’m not completely well yet.
To ease his worries, I exaggeratedly clenched my fist and added, “I’m really full of energy. I feel like I could do anything right now.”
But then it happened.
“...Are you talking about that again?”
Dante’s face suddenly hardened.
“Excuse me?”
I blinked at the abruptly cold atmosphere.
From the looks of it, it seemed like I had done something wrong.
Did I unknowingly make a mistake?
But I had no idea what it could be. While I was lost in thought, Dante added his words with a biting tone.
“Please, just stop.”
...What’s going on? Why is he acting like this?
I began to wonder if it was really necessary to speak so firmly, especially to someone who had just barely recovered from being seriously ill.
“What do you want me to stop?”
A slightly aggressive tone slipped out of my mouth without me realizing it.
I felt uncomfortable, as if I was being scolded for no reason.
I felt a bit hurt.
“What have I done?”
“Don’t do anything at all.”
“Excuse me? What do you mean by that...?”
“I’ve told you several times not to overexert yourself. Yet you keep taking on tasks and exhausting yourself, and in the end, you got really sick, didn’t you?”
I tried to interpret his words carefully.
So, what he meant was...
“Are you talking about the tea party?”
“...”
What? Is that really it?
Wow. It seems to be true.
The lack of a response and his unwavering gaze fixed on me indicated affirmation.
I was so dumbfounded that I couldn’t even comprehend it.
What kind of logic is that? What does a tea party have to do with catching a cold?
I just caught a cold because of the changing seasons.
Soon, a storm of sorrow began to sweep over me.
Who do you think caused that situation?
I hoped that Flora, whom Dante would come to like, wouldn’t be unjustly attacked.
If he found out that the woman he loves was being attacked without her knowledge, I felt like Dante would blame himself because of his personality.
And there was also the reason I was concerned about Dante, who had been blaming himself since the incident with Count Vietsa.
If I showed interest in the northern nobles, surely his image among them would improve as well.
Of course, I didn’t do it for recognition.
No one asked me to do it; it was all my own selfishness.
Still, hearing such words made me feel so hurt that I couldn’t bear it.
“I wanted to help you. I wanted to fulfill my duties as a hostess...”
“I never asked for that.”
“...What, what did you say?”
I stumbled over my words in disbelief at his coldness.
“If you truly cared for me, then just stay still. Don’t do anything, and don’t overexert yourself unnecessarily. No one would dare impose any duties on you.”
However, there was not a hint of wavering in his blue eyes.
...Ah. I completely understood Flora’s feelings.
If someone said such things to me directly, I would also want to cry, thinking, ‘He must not like me.’
But instead of crying, I regained my composure.
Yeah. He probably doesn’t mean it with bad intentions.
The Dante I know wouldn’t say such things with bad intentions.
If I weren’t someone who could understand him perfectly even when he spoke clumsily, I would have misunderstood him completely.
Could he be saying this out of concern?
Yeah. It must be concern.
He tends to be overly protective of me, and he thinks I’m so fragile and delicate that I might fly away if I’m not careful.
Wow. That’s really touching.
He takes care of me and worries about me. It’s like a pot of emotional soup boiling over.
But, you know.
I have my limits too.
Being worried about when I’m sick is appreciated, but being treated like a patient when I’m perfectly fine feels quite unpleasant.
He confines me with his worries and tries to restrict my activities as he pleases.
Look. His logic is just that.
“So, what you’re saying, Duke, is that I’m weak, so I shouldn’t go around causing trouble? You’re worried I might fall ill again.”
This time, Dante affirmed with silence.
Now I was starting to get angry.
Why isn’t he answering?
This is why he’s always just digging holes with Flora!
“I’m tired of this now. I’m not as weak as you think, Duke. I’m not a patient!”
What the heck.
Why is it that I’m the one feeling wronged, yet he’s the one making a hurt expression?
Dante seemed to have a lot to say, his lips twitching, but he sighed and rubbed his face.
Again, he’s not saying anything. Again!
“Say something. Don’t just avoid me every day.”
“Avoidance is what you’re doing right now, my lady.”
“I’m avoiding right now?”
Is the whole world frozen in avoidance? Where else can you find someone as honest as I am right now?
“You’re lying.”
...Me? What lie?
“You keep lying so that I can’t even dare to ask.”
“What lie am I... cough, cough.”
I raised my voice in excitement, but a cough interrupted me.
Ah. My throat is so clueless.
I’m trying to assert that I’m not weak, yet I’m coughing, which is humiliating.
Even if I want to hold it in with all my might, as the saying goes, love and sneezes can’t be hidden, and the cough wouldn’t subside.
What’s even more infuriating is...
“Are you okay? Here’s some warm water.”
Just a moment ago, he labeled me a liar, yet now he genuinely seems to be worried about me.
He stepped closer and offered me a glass of water with concern.
It’s really funny.
It’s not like he’s giving me medicine after making me sick.
I pushed the glass away with my palm.
“Cough. Get away from me.”
Whether it was due to the intense coughing, the feeling of injustice, anger, or sheer absurdity, tears welled up in my eyes.
I roughly wiped my eyes and pulled the blanket over myself.
“I don’t want to see your face, Duke. I don’t want to look at you.”
“...”
“I’ll rest in the room as you said, so... please just go out.”
After a long silence with no response, heavy footsteps gradually faded away.
Creeeak. Bang.
With the sound of the door closing, the room fell into silence.
And that was the beginning of the cold war.