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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 11
Chapter Title: Subtle Kindness
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Knock, knock—
A knock came from outside the door.
“My lady, just a moment. It seems the delicious crab soup has arrived.”
“Mmm.”
“Come in… Gasp! M-Ma…!”
The maid's voice cut off abruptly. Her breathing trembled unnaturally, and her body went rigid.
But Piache, consumed by fever, didn't notice a thing.
“Yes? You're being a nuisance, so get out… Ah, yes, yes. I under… Um, ah, my lady, I have something to attend to, so I'll step out for a moment and be right back. The mas… er, the other maid will help you with your meal. Be sure to chew thoroughly and eat slowly.”
“Okay…”
The sound of the door indicated the maid had left.
A moment later, the person who brought the food took the ice pack from under Piache's arm.
They also removed the damp towel covering her forehead.
Thanks to that, the biting cold vanished, but now the heat was agonizing.
Just as a tear streamed from the corner of Piache's tightly shut eye.
Swish.
Someone wiped it away.
Piache forced her eyes open. Between the fever and the welling tears, she couldn't see a thing.
She closed them again. The same hand as before slowly cupped her cheek.
‘This doesn't feel like one of the maids' hands.’
She had felt all the maids' hands, and this one was much softer and more slender. It was cooler, too.
Piache let out a pained whimper and nuzzled her cheek against the palm.
For a moment, the heat seemed to subside.
‘It feels so nice and cool. Please don't stop.’
But the hand quickly left her cheek.
Before she could feel disappointed, the hand gently slipped under her arm and carefully lifted her.
Soon, a wide, soft cushion supported her small back.
Her neck was limp, and her head lolled back. The slender, cool hand then firmly cupped the back of her head.
It slowly stroked her head, as if telling her to be careful.
“Hah, tha, thank you…”
Piache smiled, her eyes crinkling.
Clink. The soft sound of utensils followed.
After the sound of someone blowing to cool it, something warm touched her lips.
‘It's the delicious crab soup.’
Normally, she would have started eating before she even smelled its savory aroma.
But Piache couldn't open her mouth.
Even though she had promised the maid, she just couldn't bring herself to eat.
‘What do I do? I promised I'd eat. I think I'll throw up if I swallow.’
No. It would be a disaster if she threw up.
She didn't know for sure, since she had never vomited since coming here, but at the house where she was adopted, she would have been locked in the bathroom until the smell was gone.
The thought of that day made her jaw clench.
The fear of vomiting and being locked up was greater than the fear of being disliked for breaking a promise.
Just then, the hand supporting her head moved slowly.
It gently stroked her round head and peeled the strands of hair stuck to her forehead away, one by one.
The touch was so awkward and careful. Even in her pain, it made her smile.
The maids were never ‘gentle’; they were always ‘brisk.’
‘But I think I like gentle better.’
The corners of her mouth relaxed. Soup trickled between her lips.
Contrary to her worries, her stomach didn't churn.
She had been so sure she would throw up. Miraculously, she felt fine.
‘Oh, what a relief! I can eat!’
The person who had slowly fed her the soup also gave her medicine, then wiped her mouth.
Their touch remained awkward to the very end, and she couldn't contain her curiosity.
‘Who are you, miss? Why aren't you saying anything?’
She forced her heavy eyelids open.
A blurry, indistinct shape wavered before her hazy eyes.
‘…Platinum blond?’
She thought she saw a beautiful color, but she couldn't tell if it was hair or clothing.
“Ugh…”
Just from focusing for a moment, her eyes began to sting. A tear rolled down her temple.
It felt like someone was pressing down hard on her eyes from inside her head.
She was terrified her eyeballs were going to pop out.
‘It hurts so much, it hurts!’
Piache wanted to throw a tantrum and bawl her eyes out.
It felt like that might make it hurt a little less.
But she held it in.
She pressed her lips tightly together, her chin dimpling, and endured with all her might.
‘I can't cry out loud. That's a bad thing to do. If they find out, I might get thrown out. No, I will get thrown out. I want to live here. I don't want to be abandoned again.’
Her thoughts rambled on.
Piache prayed, not even knowing to whom.
Just as she closed her eyes, holding back the pain and her groans.
A fine hand gently covered her eyes.
‘It's cool…’
The pain gradually faded. Piache slowly drifted off to sleep.
Clutching a slender pinky finger tightly in her hand.
***
A day later, Piache was perfectly fine, as if she had never been sick.
Piache opened a storybook and gazed at the pictures, waiting eagerly for lunchtime.
‘I'll get to eat with the Duke today, right?’
The thought of seeing the Duke for the first time in a while made her feel like she could fly.
“My lady, excuse us.”
The maids filed into Piache's bedroom.
They set up a round table in the center of the room and spread a wide, white lace tablecloth over it.
A vase brimming with roses was placed in the middle, and place settings were arranged on either side.
Piache sat primly on her bed, watching quietly.
‘What are the maids doing?’
Once the table was set, other maids came in and began to lay out the food.
Only then did she understand.
‘Oh, they're preparing the meal in my bedroom because I was sick.’
But she was all better now. Well enough to eat in the dining room without any trouble.
“I-I'm not sick anymore.”
“Even so, please dine in your bedroom for today.”
The maids' kind smiles vanished as they stepped back.
As if clearing a path.
A moment later, someone entered the bedroom. It was the most beautiful person Piache had seen in her entire five years of life.
“D-Duke…?”
She couldn't believe the Duke was in her bedroom.
The Duke had never once visited Piache's room.
As she just stared blankly, the Duke looked down at her with cold eyes.
“What are you staring at? Are you protesting because I didn't come to see you when you were sick?”
“W-what's pro-protesting?”
Did the corner of the Duke's mouth just lift slightly? Did I see that wrong?
“Hmph. Come and sit.”
Piache blinked a few times before scrambling off the bed.
“But… th-this is my b-bedroom…”
“And? There is no place in my house that I cannot go.”
‘So she knew this was my bedroom when she came!’
Piache twisted her fingers and grinned like a fool.
The Duke gestured to the table with a look of disdain.
“What are you doing? I told you to sit.”
“Yes!”
Piache hopped into her chair, then froze.
She'd done it without thinking, simply because she was so happy.
‘The Duke hates undignified behavior more than anything. What do I do?’
Recalling how the Duke would leave without a second thought, she felt tears welling up.
“…”
But the Duke simply unfolded her napkin elegantly.
Why isn't she saying anything? I thought I'd be scolded for acting so frivolously.
‘She must not have seen me! Phew, what a relief!’
Piache sighed inaudibly and picked up her salad fork.
‘I want to eat the soup.’
Perhaps because she had been so sick, she didn't want to eat anything cold.
But she had to eat the salad first to follow the proper dining sequence…
Just as Piache, showing no sign of her preference, poked at the salad with her fork.
“This salad isn't fresh. Take it away.”
“?”
Piache's eyes widened as she inspected the salad.
It looks perfectly fresh, though?
“Yes, my lady.”
The maids approached like ghosts and whisked away the salad plate, along with the fork Piache was holding.
‘N-now what do I do? Should I wait until the maids bring another salad?’
Piache's panicked gaze fell upon the Duke.
The Duke had picked up her spoon and was very slowly sipping her soup.
‘Ah! I guess it's okay to eat the soup first today!’
Piache grinned and drank her chicken soup.
The warm broth settled her stomach.
‘It's delicious!’
A sudden hunger washed over her, and her mouth watered.
She dangled her feet for a moment before quickly putting them down, then glanced at a dish placed near the Duke.
It was a dish Piache usually loved, but it was too far away.
Stretching one's arm across the table to get food was a very undignified act and was forbidden.
Piache smacked her lips and quietly swallowed her soup.
“This one, move it over there. The scent is bothersome.”
“?”
A maid moved the dish in front of Piache.
‘It doesn't smell like anything, though?’
Besides, until now, the Duke had always ordered bothersome dishes to be taken away entirely, not just moved.
Piache started to feel stranger and stranger.
