“I have brought your breakfast.”
Ever since her injury, Anasta had been tended to by the maids.
She felt flustered by such lavish treatment, as if she were already the Duchess, but her body was genuinely incapacitated to that degree.
She finished her meal down to the last bite, then glanced sideways at the maid.
“Could you… bring me some sweets?”
“Certainly. What would you like?”
The maid asked in a flat tone completely devoid of emotion.
“Cake. I’d like something sweet.”
“I shall bring it right away.”
Anasta nodded and returned to reading a book she had brought from home.
It was the only item Natasha had left behind, and her most cherished book.
Principles of Theology.
Anasta found little pleasure in reading it, but it served well enough to pass the time.
A few minutes later, the maid returned carrying three slices of cake.
It was a generous portion for Anasta alone, yet she did not refuse it.
If anything, she was close to tears from sheer delight.
“I would like to read. Would you leave me for a while?”
“Call for me if you require anything.”
Ever since she had risked herself and sustained grave injuries, Anasta's life in the ducal residence had grown considerably more comfortable.
She set the book aside, watched the door for a few moments, and then began to move her heavy, sluggish body.
Extending her arm, she dragged the nearby wheelchair flush against the bed.
Supporting her weight with her uninjured arm, she shifted toward the wheelchair and threw herself onto it.
She almost lost her balance, but managed to settle safely. After steadying herself, she carefully took hold of the dessert plate.
Steering the chair, she made her way toward Ryan’s room.
Knock, knock.
At this hour, the Young Master was bound to be resting.
Having thoroughly memorized his routine, Anasta tapped on the door and said quietly, “It is Anasta.”
· · ·
“I am coming in, Sir.”
Ryan did not answer, but she paid it no mind and opened the door.
From within, Ryan glared at her with a fierce, chilling look.
“I see you didn’t throw a pillow today.”
Using one hand, she painstakingly pushed the wheelchair closer to his bed.
“Have you developed some sympathy for fellow patients?”
Ryan let out a dry, scornful scoff.
“Perhaps. You’ve become an invalid yourself, after all.”
“Yes, isn’t it wonderful? We make quite the matching couple.”
“We are not an official couple.”
He replied coldly. Anasta merely shrugged and presented the sweets to him.
Ryan stared at the plate, unable to grasp her intentions.
“Did you come here to flaunt that before me?”
“Eat it.”
“What?”
“It is delicious. It’s cake.”
Ryan’s brow furrowed at her words.
“I cannot eat cake.”
“I know. You must have small meals every day and consume a precise amount of protein. Vegetables in measured portions, too. One slice of meat, and only two ladles of broth or soup. One slice of fruit, or a single berry.”
“You are remarkably well-informed.”
“I ate similarly for twenty years. That is why whenever I see something sweet, I lose my mind.”
Anasta looked down at one of the three slices of cake.
“From what I gather, eating a single slice of cake won’t kill you. You want it, don't you? Let us share it, then.”
“It seems you wish to hasten my death.”
“You jumped from the window to die. Isn’t dying while eating something delicious far better than dying in agony?”
“And if I suffer a seizure, will you take responsibility?”
“You had a seizure even when you ate nothing at all.”
Ryan was left dumbfounded by her stubborn, unyielding retorts.
When he thought about it, she was not wrong.
Since he was bound to die anyway, dying after tasting something delicious did not sound like such a terrible idea.
Years of deprivation had left him desperately craving sugar and rich meats.
Above all, the three slices of cake resting on the plate looked excruciatingly appetizing.
Yet it was also a matter of his pride.
He hated the thought of bowing to the words of Anasta, whose body had been broken on his account.
“You are quite bold. If we are caught, you will be thrown out.”
“Will you tell on me?”
“I will.”
Despite his threat, Anasta remained unfazed.
“Very well, go ahead. I have plans of my own, too.”
‘What on earth is she plotting this time?’
After a brief hesitation, Ryan snatched the fork and knife from the plate.
With an ingrained elegance and courtly decorum his body remembered, he skillfully sliced the cake and gingerly placed a piece into his mouth.
It was strawberry shortcake with whipped cream.
A light, delicate crumb, white cream of balanced sweetness, and between the layers, fresh strawberries and jam.
Ryan’s eyes widened at the tart, sweet flavor he had not tasted in three years.
‘It… it’s delicious…’
“It’s good, isn’t it?”
When she said that with a broad smile, Ryan’s mood abruptly soured once more.
“Cake tastes good by nature.”
“Have some more.”
“I shall do so without your encouragement.”
Ryan began cutting piece after piece, popping them into his mouth.
It was an extraordinary flavor. His hands never paused as he savored the taste of a life he had missed for so long.
Having devoured the strawberry shortcake, he moved straight to the chocolate cake.
Naturally, it was just as delicious.
He finished off all three slices in the blink of an eye.
Even then, a look of lingering regret crossed his face as he licked his lips, and Anasta had to swallow the smile threatening to break out.
“Goodness, you ate it all. You didn’t leave me a single bite.”
“Were you expecting some? Forgive me for disappointing you.”
Ryan wore a bright, satisfied smirk, his voice devoid of even the slightest remorse.
“If I ask for more, the maid will think I am a gluttonous pig.”
“I could not care less.”
“I had best return before we are caught.”
Anasta gathered the plate and began wheeling herself back.
“Wait.”
· · ·
Ryan called out to her.
“Do not pull such reckless stunts again.”
“Are you worried about me?”
“No, I mean your presence annoys me. I want to die quickly.”
· · ·
“So, when you get your hands on those sweets, bring them to me. As you said, dying after a good meal is not a bad idea.”
Anasta’s capacity for recovery was extraordinary.
Despite the physician claiming she would be unable to walk for days, she began moving about on crutches after a mere four days.
The bruises faded from her delicate skin, and the gashes along her arm knitted together.
Ryan watched this near-miraculous healing with open dismay.
“Are you a monster?”
“Pardon?”
Anasta blinked, leaning on her crutches while carrying a slice of cake.
“Your head is perfectly sound, and you are already walking on crutches.”
“My body is remarkably resilient.”
Anasta replied casually as she handed him the cake.
Today, two macarons sat alongside the slice.
Though he had not tasted them yet, Ryan’s mouth watered as he accepted the fork and knife from her.
This routine repeated for four days straight.
Whenever Ryan was given delicious food, he ceased to be irritable and stopped lashing out with spite.
Instead, he devoted himself to eating cake, a faint smile gracing his lips like a child presented with a long-desired toy.
Anasta found herself thinking that there was something innocent in the sight.
A young man with such sharp, sullen features and a rebellious demeanor, completely disarmed before pastries.
It was not an unpleasant view.
Ryan finished the cake and set the fork and knife aside.
“Thanks to you, another day has been shaved off my lifespan today.”
Even if his tone remained as prickly as ever.
“As long as you enjoyed eating it, that is enough.”
· · ·
Ryan did not deny it.
He truly seemed to have relished the food.
“Is there anything else you would like to do?”
Anasta asked carefully.
“Something I would like to do?”
“Yes. Would you care to read, study, listen to music, or go for a stroll…?”
“And what good would that do?”
He answered in a bleak tone.
“I am hardly the sort to do whatever I please, but I try to live with a sense of balance.”
“And how exactly do you live with balance?”
“I rebelled against my parents quite often. I snuck out several times. And I read books I was forbidden from touching.”
“All of that sounds like pointless foolishness to me.”
“Yet they were things I wanted to do. Is doing what brings you joy truly foolish?”
Faced with Anasta’s candid question, Ryan found no immediate answer and sank deep into thought.
Perhaps owing to the sweet cake he had eaten, the thought of going outside suddenly crossed his mind.
Traveling to the capital before the cold worsened to mingle with people, play chess, browse the shops to look at fine swords or firearms…
And since he had not purchased formal attire in a long time, some shopping would not be so bad either.
Dreams he had long forgotten began to surface once more, all thanks to a few slices of cake.
Catching that glint in his eyes, Anasta asked at once, “Shall I help you?”
“With what?”
“With doing what you want. If you wish to study, I can fetch the books for you. If you want to go out, we cannot travel far, but I can buy us enough time to walk about the estate grounds.”
She looked straight into Ryan’s eyes with an open, untroubled gaze.
“And if you wish to play games, I will be your opponent. I do not know how to play, but if you teach me the rules, I will do my best.”
“And if we are discovered, you will be thrown out, won’t you?”
Ryan could not fathom why Anasta went to such lengths.
“I am not doing this solely for your sake. I do it because I am bored, too. It is to satisfy my own desires.”
Her own desires.
Ryan thought that did not sound half bad.
Though he resented Anasta, she made for a rather convenient tool to stave off his boredom.
He considered asking for something impossible, then parted his lips. “Chess.”
“Pardon?”
“Do you know how to play chess?”
END
