Chapter 25

In the kitchen, warmed by the stove that Adel had lit, the only sound was the ladling of soup. Occasionally, the sound of a glass being emptied or the crunch of vegetables being chewed would accompany it. Frida, who had been sitting quietly watching Daniel eat, stealthily reached for her glass. As the alcohol quickly rose to her cheeks, making them flush, a thirst crept up on her. Drawn by something, her hand kept reaching for the glass. Then, with a wobble, her arm shook, and the drink spilled over the rim of the glass.

"Ah."

She must really be drunk. Ugh... I should have listened to Muriel when she tried to stop me. At that moment, Frida noticed a stain forming on the papers she had laid on the table and quickly lifted them to shake off the moisture.

"Huff, huff."

She blew on them urgently to prevent the moisture from spreading. Fortunately, she managed to shake off the moisture before it reached the written parts. As Frida took the papers to the fireplace to dry them, Daniel spoke to her.

"What were you looking at?"

"Oh, the recommendation letters for the new servants."

Frida tilted the damp part of the paper downward and waved it around.

"I've narrowed it down to ten people for now. I thought we'd need more kitchen help since we'll have a lady's maid for Lady Boil and more hands on deck. Would you like to see?"

"No."

Daniel, who had turned away from the papers Frida offered, instead picked up his glass. The drink, different from wine, had a sharp herbal taste, especially mint, which cooled his throat.

"It's a new taste."

"Adel distilled herbs to make it. It's a bit like the medicine Anton gives sometimes."

Suddenly reminded of the taste of medicine, Frida shuddered. The drink she had been enjoying just moments ago suddenly became unappealing. Then, Daniel's hand touched her forehead.

"You seem to have a fever."

Startled, Frida put down the papers and waved her hands frantically.

"No, no. It's just from the alcohol. Really. I've had two glasses in a row..."

"I know. The doctor said you haven't had a fever for a few days."

Even as he said he knew, Daniel did not remove his hand from her forehead. Her face, usually pale, was now flushed like a red flower petal. Her purple eyes, which seemed to dance like the flickering flames, were unfamiliar.

"Don't let the duchess hear the vulgar gossip of the people."

Dominic's words didn't particularly bother him. He hadn't expected to encounter his wife in such a place. When he returned to the castle, he was later than planned and hungry. But he didn't want to ring the bell to summon someone. Growing up not as a precious nobleman, Daniel was used to handling everything himself. It was the same when he was in the mercenary group. Being served and cared for by someone else was uncomfortable. He had come to the kitchen alone to find something to eat. But the reason he didn't turn back even after hearing the chatter and laughter of the women... he wasn't sure. Maybe he was subtly bothered by Dominic's words. A question he hadn't intended to ask slipped out of Daniel's mouth.

"Are you angry with me?"

Daniel, who disliked anything that wasn't straightforward, especially when it came to people, found it particularly annoying. Of course, he also disliked things that were bothersome and annoying. If she was angry, she should just say so. If it was something he could fix, he would; if not, he couldn't. He didn't understand why she hesitated to say it. If she didn't say anything, he could just ignore it. But asking his wife, who was already drunk, seemed equally strange. He considered having a few more drinks to blame it on the alcohol, but he decided against it. It seemed they would have a long conversation tonight, and he needed to be sober since his wife was already tipsy.

"No. Burp."

But then, he changed his mind. It seemed they would have a long conversation tonight, and he needed to be sober since his wife was already tipsy.

"That's strange. I could feel your anger. And you know, you're not very good at hiding your feelings."

Frida pouted like a sulky child. She must really be drunk. She was showing sides she usually didn't.

"You're not angry at the duke, but at me. Of course... the duke provided the cause, but it's not his fault."

He immediately understood. His wife talked a lot and incoherently when she was drunk. If he wanted to hear a long story from her tonight, he needed to be patient. And patience was one of Daniel's strengths. Silence ensued. Frida, as if making a decision, took a sip of her drink and slammed the glass on the table, glaring at Daniel. Even though she said she wasn't angry, there was a strange anger in her eyes.

"The duke... is just too lucky."

Frida's feelings toward Daniel today were somewhat radical. Daniel silently watched his wife take another sip of the mint-flavored drink.

"That's right. After being asleep for three years... you're just... too... fine. How can a person recover so quickly? You're not an animal, how can you have such fast recovery? I'm bedridden for days when I have a fever."

The first reason for her frustration was his animal-like recovery.

"And you can walk around in the dark without any trouble. I can't see anything when it gets dark."

The second reason was his excellent vision.

"And even if you're strong, it's annoying how you treat your body. When you were sparring with Muriel, you deliberately didn't dodge the sword, right? I saw you stretch your leg in the direction the sword was falling."

The third reason was how he treated his precious body carelessly.

"I thought I must have been mistaken. A person can't do that. How can you not be scared when a sword pierces your body? You could die."

"You won't die from that."

Frida shouted at Daniel, who had been silent until then.

"That's also lucky! Acting like you're invincible."

His strength was impressive and admirable, and it made her envious. He seemed great, and it made her heart race. If she hadn't seen him clearly before it got dark, she might have continued to feel that way. She couldn't take her eyes off Daniel and Muriel, trembling with excitement in the tense atmosphere. They attacked, defended, and countered. The way they wielded their swords was so beautiful that she couldn't look away. Muriel, putting all her strength into her sword, and her husband, receiving her attacks without flinching. It was like they were dancing in their own world. Then, her husband's sword broke in two. At that moment, she saw his leg, which had been fixed to the ground, move in the direction the sword fell. It was definitely a move to unsettle Muriel. She asked Muriel about it later, just to be sure.

"The sword piercing the duke's thigh startled me, and I lost my rhythm."

As expected. It was a planned and intended move, which is why he remained so calm even with the sword in his leg. Thinking about it again made her angry.

"Yes, the duke is strong, which is great. He's tall, healthy, and has excellent sword skills. That's why I'm annoyed. My weakness isn't the duke's fault, but..."

Frida twirled her hair, which looked empty and colorless today, in frustration.

"Being born this way has nothing to do with the duke, but it's still annoying. I... I can't even bear the duke's child, yet he keeps talking about fulfilling his duties."

Blaming others is a bad habit. She knew that... but seeing Daniel these past few days had been uncomfortable. After talking about his wife's duties, he backed away when he approached her, which made her feel ridiculous. On the day he said he would come to her room, her period started unexpectedly. She was relieved, really relieved, but also sad. She couldn't bear a child for a husband who didn't want a mistress because he was tired of the rumors of illegitimate children.

"Damn."

Of all the curses Mr. Ricardo taught her, this one best expressed her current feelings. Her head felt heavy, and she couldn't hold it up anymore. Depressed, Frida slammed her forehead on the table and lay down. Her muffled voice spread through the wood grain.

"Still, don't lose hope, Duke. I won't live long, so the next duchess will definitely bear your child."

What am I saying? Her face was uncontrollably flushed, and her mind was ringing with a continuous bell. She had been upset, but was it right to vent to this person? Her eyes kept closing. Amidst this, a low, calm, and soothing voice reached her. This man's voice was also impressive. Really, too lucky.

"People die more easily than you think."

That's true. Sister Rote was like that.

"But they can also be stubborn and live long."

Is that why I'm still hanging on?

"Madam, just as we can't choose the beginning of our lives, we can't choose the end."

I know. Do you think I don't know that? That's why I try hard. I don't want to waste my life until the last day.

"Besides, living for twenty years isn't considered a short life."

Frida, who had been squeezing her eyelids, turned her head to the side and slowly opened her eyes. Blink... blink. Her husband was looking at her, his chin resting on his hand.

'Is he smiling?'

Her vision was blurry, but she thought she saw a smile.

"Don't... smile."

The sound of his lips parting confirmed he was smiling. The calm response that followed.

"I don't think that's possible."

"Really... too lucky."

The mint taste in her mouth and the low laughter were the last things Frida remembered that night. ***

I feel like I'm going to die. Even Frida, who usually avoids such words, couldn't help but say them today.

"Ugh... Muriel, Muriel. Muriel, save me."

Now I understand what it means to have a splitting headache. I wish it would just split. Then it wouldn't hurt anymore. Frida, clutching her head, curled up tightly.

"Muriel..."

When she was in pain and distress, the only thing she could do was call out the name she habitually called. As she writhed in pain, a cold water bag was placed on her forehead, making her come to her senses.

"Lying down won't help. You'll feel better if you get up and have some warm tea."

"..."

Opening her eyes quickly, she saw the ceiling painted with linden trees. That means... this is my room. Why is this voice here? Slowly sitting up, Frida saw Daniel standing by the bed and covered her mouth with both hands.

"W-Why is the duke here..."

Suddenly, a memory that shouldn't be hers surfaced.

"Trust me, duke. I'll bear your child. The next Duke of Rihardt. Burp, I'll bear it, I promise."

Daniel, still in shock, handed her a steaming cup of tea.

"Forget it. Unless you want to die of embarrassment."