Chapter 43
Contrary to his expectation of tossing and turning all night, Stefan slept soundly without waking once. Even after waking, he lingered in bed unusually for him. Due to exhaustion from the long journey, Baroness Boild also struggled to rise. She pulled the blanket up to her chin and buried her face in the fluffy pillow.
"Darling. I'm going back to sleep. I won't budge from this bed for days."
"Of course you should. The physician said not to overdo it and rest well."
"Yes. The physician named Anton was so kind. He seemed like a good man, with vast medical knowledge."
"That's a relief. It's reassuring to have a proper physician in this remote place."
Though he desperately wanted to laze about, the documents handed to him by the Duke loomed before his eyes. Letting out a deep sigh, Stefan forcibly dragged his weary body upright.
"I need to get up now. The Duke laid down the law yesterday—twenty-two tasks to complete within the year."
Matilda, face buried in the pillow, feigned surprise and raised her voice.
"Twenty-two? Oh my. He plans to work you to the bone. Serves you right for catching the Chamberlain Count's eye and ending up in this mess. It's all because you're too clever."
Stefan chuckled and nuzzled into his wife's nape.
"Didn't you say you liked that I'm different from those empty-headed noble idiots, Baroness Boild?"
"Eek! Stefan! Stop it. That tickles."
Matilda laughed until she was breathless, finally stopping after a long kiss. Looking up at her husband, she smiled brightly.
"Stefan, I have a good feeling we'll do well here. The Rihardt Duke doesn't seem as savage as rumored, and above all, the Duchess. Isn't she just too adorable?"
"She is."
He didn't yet know what kind of man the Duke was, but the Duchess being adorable was undeniable, so Stefan nodded without disagreement.
"I see why they called Harkbon women saints in the old days. If I'd seen a woman like that a few hundred years ago, I'd have called her an angel or a witch too."
"It's truly a pity. Is it true that women of that house have short lives? It could be exaggerated rumor."
"Who knows."
Stefan's esteemed professor at Chelino University had spoken of the Harkbon family.
"Curse? Nonsense. That house isn't cursed—it's simply a disease that afflicts only the women. Just as you inherited your father's brown hair, and I my mother's green eyes."
Exaggerated talk of curses aside, it confirmed there was indeed a disease.
"She does look unwell, that's true. I was amazed she could even walk around."
"I thought so at first too, but talking to her, not at all. So spirited and bright. Not sure if it's proper to say of the Duchess, but like a fluffy puppy. I want to adopt her as a little sister."
Stefan's lips softened as he brushed back his wife's dark blonde hair.
"I'm glad you like it here. And our child holding on healthily. Wonder if it'll be a brave one like its mother."
"As long as it's as brave as its father, who walked into the mad dog's lair to protect his family."
No matter the mad dog of the Emperor, he'd understand post-journey laziness the next day. Stefan cupped his wife's cheek and began a kiss even longer than before. ***
'Eek.'
Dominic, entering Marian Hall, hurriedly ducked behind a pillar. Heinrich passed swiftly by the pillar where he hid, just barely missing him.
"What's with that guy. He hates sweating so much he avoids running."
Son of a border margrave fated for battlefields, yet so fastidiously clean. Even captured and hung upside down from a tree as a prisoner, he loathed dust on his face more. His greatest hatred for those starting wars in hot seasons was even more ridiculous. Sticky sweat-soaked clothes clinging to the body, or whatever. Not a sane bone in him. That was Heinrich Updyke. Dominic emerged only after Heinrich vanished from sight. He'd disliked him from first sight, but decided to distance himself right after Daniel's marriage was set. After seeing Heinrich visit Daniel in the capital and immediately fly into a rage.
"That Dowager Empress hag must be senile. Daniel, ignore that bullshit. If she keeps bothering you, screw it—let's flip the table. The Updyke Margrave is on your side..."
In Chelino swarming with the Dowager Empress's spies, he spouted such nonsense openly, even loudly. Unable to stand it, Dominic had shut his mouth and gotten bitten—the finger still ached in the rain. And that wasn't all. Three years ago, upon hearing Daniel had lost consciousness, it was worse.
"Dominic, what were you doing? Why'd you make Daniel risk his life for you? No, it's all those Nottingen bastards. I'll rip their limbs off..."
"Haa..."
He didn't even want to recall details. Shaking his head, Dominic ascended the stairs and nearly collided with Muriel hurrying down. Her expression was visibly anxious and dark.
"Something wrong? Or still hungover from last night?"
"Dominic, have you seen Lady Frida?"
"Not in her room?"
Where else would the Duchess be at this hour but her bedroom?
"She's not. She complained of heaviness yesterday and went straight to bed after returning from Skadi Hall, but she's gone this morning. Where on earth did she go?"
"Probably out for a walk. I'll let you know if I see her."
He said it to calm Muriel, but knew it unlikely. Munheim Castle's lady wouldn't waste time on pointless, inefficient walks. She especially disliked dressing elaborately to protect fragile skin that blistered in strong sun. Reaching Daniel's bedroom door, Dominic reached for the iron ring but tapped lightly with his knuckles instead. Daniel, who started mornings earliest, hadn't appeared at the Training Ground yet—might still be asleep. Tap tap. Even asleep, Daniel would catch this sound. No stir from within, so Dominic quietly opened the door.
"......"
This must be what they mean by speechless. Glancing inside the slightly open door, Dominic closed it more quietly than he'd opened it. Tell Muriel he'd found the Duchess, or not? Morning worries deepened. ***
"Mm..."
Frida sat up sleepily and lifted her heavy eyelids.
"Thought I heard something..."
Blinking dazedly in place, her vision soon cleared. The sturdy wooden door, firmly shut in the distance, sharpened into view.
"Misheard?"
Muttering to herself, Frida's gaze dropped downward. Daniel lay peacefully asleep on the bed, head precariously at the pillow's edge. Without his faint breathing, it might seem he'd lost consciousness again like three years ago. Last night, he'd kept saying his head hurt. His pained face clutching his head was vivid.
'If it hurt, say so sooner. Foolishly holding it in. Thought he was tough, but maybe just pretending?'
She'd assumed quick recovery and relaxed, but no. His unfamiliar yet pitiful sleeping face after so long held her gaze.
"No way... he hasn't really passed out?"
Frida cautiously pressed her ear to his nose tip. Daniel's steady breaths, deep in sleep, tickled her ear.
"Phew. Good."
Frida pulled the blanket down to his waist and carefully covered his shoulders, whispering softly.
"I should have paid more attention. Sorry."
How much it must have hurt to suffer so. She remembered laying him in bed and patting his back, but not when she fell asleep. Had he suffered alone after she dozed off? Heart aching, she stared at his sleeping face. Just then, the sun emerged from clouds, casting long rays beside the bed. Outside the window, clear skies promised another fine day. Suddenly worried the bright sun might disturb his sleep, Frida quietly got off the bed and drew the undone curtains from last night to block the light. So deeply asleep, Daniel showed no sign of waking despite her rustling. Returning to the bed, Frida propped her chin on folded arms in a prone position. Tilting her head, she gazed intently at her handsome sleeping husband. Being like this felt like time before he woke. Memories of their not-short time together flooded back, moving her deeply. Those first days sharing a room, she'd clung to the bed's edge uncomfortably until used to someone beside her. Around a month later, she began greeting his motionless form with "Did you sleep well?" Alone. Around then, she'd started massaging his unmoving body multiple times a day, chattering away. Castle gossip from servants, progress on her estate projects. She'd ramble alone, then stare at his sleeping face like now. Why wouldn't he wake? What if something went wrong? Some nights she'd stayed up worrying over unhatched troubles. Stray locks over his forehead swayed with his shallow breaths. Careful not to touch his skin, Frida swept them back. Looking at his fully exposed forehead, she tilted her head.
"Strange. Why does he look different from back then?"
Not even two months since waking, so no big changes... But something subtly different. Jawline sharper? No, expression seemed changed. Oddly, his serene sleeping face evoked all the emotions he'd shown lately. Strict to fearsome at times, but mostly kind and gentle.
'Annoying sometimes, sure.'
Smiling, Frida grew serious again. Despite confirmed breathing, his utter stillness scared her.
"Still hurting a lot?"
Should have brought Anton no matter his insistence. Last night's headache looked severe—what if accident aftereffects? No way he'd never wake again? Caught in grim foreboding, Frida crept onto the bed. Then carefully but firmly shook his arm.
"Your Grace. Wake up. Duke..."
Suddenly recalling his request to call his name.
"Daniel, wake up."
Calling him, Frida grasped his shoulder.
"It's morning, Daniel. Da... Oh!"
Daniel seized her slender wrist shaking his shoulder, eyes still closed.
"Daniel, you're conscious?"
Even holding her wrist, he didn't open his eyes right away. His closed lids rose slowly only after minutes. His deep reddish-brown eyes, heavy with fatigue, locked onto her unerringly. Frida, eyes wide, tilted her head to meet his gaze.
"You okay? Or still hurting? Shall I call Anton?"
Daniel just stared silently. Quiet as in sleep, save slow blinks.
"Daniel... What's wrong?"
"You tell me."
His voice, heavier than ever, rasped from barely parted lips.
"Why are you doing this to me."
"Da, Daniel?"
He yanked her wrist, pulling Frida into his arms. Her white hair spilled messily across the bed. Cupping her cheek, his eyes churned desperately, like cornered on a cliff.
"How do you plan to handle this."
