Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 65

“Young madam? Were you saying something to me?”

Miesa was startled as Gella, who had been organizing something at the console on one side of the bedroom, turned her head slightly and asked her.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh! Your voice seems a bit more energetic today.”

“Really?”

Turning towards the bed, Gella’s eyes widened briefly at Miesa’s clumsy speech but then she smiled brightly as if it was nothing.

“Of course. It’s been a while since I heard it, and it sounds even more beautiful.”

Miesa followed Gella’s smile with a soft one of her own. But Gella, seeing this, was shocked and rushed over, dropping the medicine pouch she was holding to the floor.

“Young madam, what’s wrong?”

“What, what is it?”

“Does your face feel numb or hurt?”

Miesa quickly shook her head and used the sign for ‘no problem’ to reassure Gella.

“No, if it’s paralysis, we need to act quickly, so please try saying ‘eee’ again, like before.”

Oh no, my smile must have been awkward. Miesa focused and recalled Margravine Cladnier’s smile. As she slowly lifted the corners of her mouth, Gella looked relieved.

“You’re okay. But why did it look like that just now?”

Not being able to speak properly, Miesa didn’t want to explain. She shook her head and sat up.

“Lunch will be here soon. Would you like to lie down on the floor for a bit?”

Miesa shook her head again.

Just in case Eirik came early today, she wanted to show him that she was looking somewhat well.

But today, he visited her later than usual.

“Oh, you’re here,” Miesa greeted him with a smile, carefully ensuring the corners of her mouth were symmetrical as she spoke.

Eirik, who had expected to see her lying weakly on the bed or just sitting as usual, paused briefly before sitting across from her without saying a word.

“Please, you two go ahead and talk,” Gella said, always stepping aside even though she knew the young master wouldn’t stay long. However, Eirik stopped her.

“No. I won’t be here long today. You may stay.”

“Sorry? Oh, alright then,” Gella replied, while Miesa’s muttering was drowned out by Gella’s response.

“…ah…”

Eirik, always perceptive, didn’t miss it.

Turning his head, Eirik asked, “What did you say just now?”

“Are you… busy?” The words tumbled out awkwardly as her eyes met his. Miesa’s face turned bright red, and she waved her hand.

“No, no. It’s fine.”

“It doesn’t seem fine,” Eirik frowned and turned to Gella, who was standing at a distance.

“Is she unwell?”

“As I mentioned, she has been eating less and has no energy. I’ve been bringing various antidotes every day,” Gella said, her voice growing louder with frustration at his apparent ignorance.

Gella would write a brief report every evening when she returned to the knights’ quarters and send it to the office. Now, seeing the young master act as if he hadn’t received any of these updates, she felt indignant.

Eirik sighed, prompting Miesa to panic.

“R-really, I’m fine.”

“Please, just don’t say anything. That would be more helpful,” he uttered sharply.

“Has this been ongoing since her fever?” he asked Gella.

“Yes, ever since then, her condition has been worsening, but we can’t find a clear reason.”

Miesa felt deeply embarrassed.

Even though she was right there, the two of them were discussing her. Despite wanting to erase her presence, witnessing their conversation made her feel even more insignificant. She used to naturally participate in such conversations.

“Earlier, the young madam’s face looked a bit unnatural, almost like she had facial paralysis—”

“I… I’m right here.”

At Miessa’s urgent outburst, Eirik turned to look at her.

Noticing the frustration on his face, Miessa froze even more. Why did her words come out so pathetically? Why had she suddenly blurted out something so ridiculous? That wasn’t even what she meant to say.

“I have urgent matters to attend to and can’t stay longer,” he sighed briefly. “I’ll return as soon as I’m done. Please take good care of her in the meantime.”

Eirik stood up hastily. Miesa, her head bowed, couldn’t bear to watch him leave.

“A plumber, really?” A middle-aged man with spindly limbs and a distended belly burst into laughter.

Eirik responded stoically, “It would have been better if Your Highness’s coughing fit occurred at dawn. You’d have seen me as a vegetable seller.”

“I didn’t want to converse with Cladnier, but you’re so serious and earnest it’s amusing.” Grand Duke Hagail waggled a bony finger at Eirik. “Go to the garden.”

“The garden, Your Highness?” Eirik was puzzled.

“Yes, the garden with sunlight, breeze, and flowers.” Grand Duke Hagail strode ahead.

The elderly butler of the Grand Duke’s household hurried to the garden, dusting off a central table and preparing it before asking, “My lord, His Grace does not drink tea. Would you prefer water or wine?”

“I’ll have what His Grace is having,” Eirik replied.

Grand Duke Hagail muttered, “Bring water.”

Another surprise. Judging by his ruddy face and trembling fingers, Eirik had expected him to choose wine.

As Eirik cautiously observed, the Grand Duke turned over an hourglass on the table and said curtly, “Ten minutes, give or take.”

“Is that the time you’re giving me?” Eirik asked.

The Grand Duke nodded. “So you’d better use every second to keep me entertained.”

“Why did you reject our proposal?” Eirik asked.

The Grand Duke’s lips twisted into a smirk at the abruptness. “Ah, I expected you’d waste at least three minutes on pleasantries.”

He fell silent. Tap, tap. Tap, tap. His long nails drummed on the table as he appeared deep in thought. Eirik drank his water, watching the sand in the hourglass flow quickly.

After a long silence, the Grand Duke spoke, “Why indeed?”

“If you’re asking for my answer, perhaps you should at least…”

“I’ve done enough. Now I have just enough strength left to live one day at a time.” The Grand Duke’s dull eyes fixed on Eirik.

“How much courage or sacrifice do you think a goddess expects from a man? No one, nothing, can demand anything from me anymore.”

With that, Grand Duke Hagail gestured to the butler, who handed him a cigar and lighter, and the Grand Duke accepted them with trembling hands.

“May I light it for you, Your Highness?” Eirik asked.

“I might lack the energy for rebellion, but I can light a cigar.”

“I’m anxious about the time,” Eirik admitted.

At Eirik’s candid remark, the Grand Duke chuckled and handed over the lighter. Indeed, the sand in the hourglass had more than half runout.

“Here you are.” Eirik lit the end of the Grand Duke’s cigar. It wasn’t just ordinary tobacco; a sharp scent filled the air as the Grand Duke exhaled smoke.

“Your father was quite the steady one in his youth. Are you the reincarnation of Cladnier’s ancestral spirit? Perhaps the first Margrave himself?” the Grand Duke said, laughing as smoke and laughter seeped from his mouth.

“You must be weary,” Grand Duke added.

“Why do you say so, Your Highness?” Eirik asked.

“Isn’t everyone burdening you? Trusting and relying on you so freely?”

The sand in the hourglass continued to dwindle, but Eirik no longer paid attention to it. It was clear that Grand Duke Hagail was intrigued by him.

“…Being born as the heir of a noble family comes with certain expectations,” Eirik said.

“Were you born with those expectations, or merely raised with them?” the Grand Duke asked.

“I can’t argue with that,” Eirik replied, allowing a small smile.

The Grand Duke chuckled, waving his hand dismissively at his butler. “Like a bright light, you attract moths.”

“……”

“It’s unfortunate. They are drawn to your brightness but soon become repulsed by their own ugliness, and so they begin to resent you,” the Grand Duke continued.