Elysia was quietly enjoying the spectacle when Cassiel’s voice drifted toward her in a perfectly serious tone.
"Would you like me to have someone bring you a chair?"
"Huh?"
"...So you can watch the show more comfortably."
Elysia nearly choked.
Heat rushed into her face.
"Your Grace!"
She laughed awkwardly.
"It’s not nearly that entertaining."
One corner of Cassiel’s mouth lifted slightly.
But he spared her any further embarrassment.
Instead, he asked calmly,
"Shall we return?"
Elysia immediately nodded, "Yes."
Bran remained behind to deal with the boy.
Melissa was carried away toward Rose Hall.
The crowd slowly dispersed.
At last, the courtyard fell quiet.
Elysia stepped behind Cassiel’s chair and began pushing him back toward their residence.
Neither spoke.
The night air was cool.
Only the soft sound of wheels rolling across stone accompanied them.
By the time they reached the bedchamber, Elysia had nearly convinced herself the evening was over.
Then she heard it.
A restrained cough.
Very soft.
Very brief.
She looked down immediately.
Her heart lurched.
Cassiel’s complexion had turned even paler than before.
His lips had lost all color.
A thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead.
The hand resting on the armrest was trembling almost imperceptibly.
Elysia’s expression changed instantly.
"I’ll summon the physician."
She turned to leave.
A hand closed around her wrist.
Not tightly but just enough to stop her.
"Wait."
His voice sounded rough.
Elysia turned back anxiously.
"But Your Grace—"
"I forced myself awake."
Cassiel closed his eyes briefly.
"When the body is not ready, remaining conscious requires effort."
A faint smile touched his lips.
"I can stay conscious for a little while."
His voice grew quieter.
"But not much longer."
Elysia nodded immediately.
The worry in her eyes remained.
Then a thought suddenly struck her.
A very alarming thought.
She hesitated.
Then cleared her throat.
"Your Grace..."
Cassiel opened one eye.
"What is it?"
Elysia looked away.
"When you were unconscious..."
She paused.
"...could you hear people speaking around you?"
For a moment, the room became suspiciously quiet.
Elysia’s ears began heating.
Over the past days, she had spoken to him countless times.
She had told him stories.
Complained about household matters.
Talked about her family.
Cried beside him.
Laughed beside him.
Even rambled when she couldn’t sleep.
At the time, she had been completely convinced he couldn’t hear a thing.
Now?
She wasn’t so sure.
Cassiel remained perfectly still.
"No."
The answer came without hesitation.
"I heard nothing."
Elysia narrowed her eyes.
She wasn’t entirely convinced.
"Really?"
Cassiel slowly lifted an eyebrow.
An innocent expression settled across his face.
"Did you say something interesting?"
Elysia choked and quickly looked away.
"No... Nothing..."
The answer came far too quickly.
Cassiel hummed softly.
The sound suggested he didn’t believe her in the slightest.
Before Elysia could panic further, he changed the subject.
"Help me to the bed."
Grateful for the distraction, she immediately stepped forward.
Carefully, she helped him rise from the chair.
His weight settled briefly against her shoulder.
Warm.
Solid.
Far stronger than someone supposedly on the verge of collapse ought to feel.
Together, they reached the bedside.
Cassiel sat down slowly.
Then he glanced toward her.
"You’ll be managing the household tomorrow."
Elysia straightened instantly.
Like a soldier receiving orders.
"Yes."
His gaze lingered on her.
"Don’t bankrupt my estate."
Elysia blinked.
"I won’t! I promise."
Her answer was immediate.
Firm.
Determined.
Something resembling amusement flickered through Cassiel’s eyes.
Then the exhaustion finally caught up to him.
He released her wrist.
Lowered himself onto the bed.
And closed his eyes.
Within moments, his breathing steadied.
He had fallen unconscious again.
The room became quiet.
Elysia remained standing beside the bed.
For some reason, she kept looking down at her wrist.
At the place where his hand had been.
The warmth seemed to linger.
After a moment, she glanced back toward him.
The effort of waking had loosened his collar slightly.
His throat and collarbone were exposed.
A thin sheen of sweat glimmered against pale skin.
His chest rose and fell steadily beneath the blanket.
Elysia stared.
Then continued staring.
And staring.
"Your Grace!"
Bran’s voice suddenly exploded from outside the room.
"How is His Grace?"
Elysia nearly jumped out of her skin.
She spun around so quickly she almost tripped.
Her face burned.
Her ears turned bright red.
Thankfully, Bran was too focused on the Duke to notice.
"He..."
Elysia cleared her throat.
"He fell asleep again."
Bran immediately rushed to the bedside.
His excitement faded into disappointment.
"Oh..."
He sighed heavily.
"I thought His Grace was truly recovering."
Elysia finally regained control of herself.
"This is recovery."
She spoke with certainty.
"He’s waking more often and each time lasts longer."
A smile appeared on her face.
"If we continue taking proper care of him, he’ll wake for good someday."
Bran’s eyes brightened immediately.
"You’re right!"
His enthusiasm returned at once.
He rolled up his sleeves and stepped closer to the bed.
"I’ll take care of cleaning up and the rest for His Grace tonight."
Noticing the sweat along Cassiel’s brow, he added,
"You’ve worked hard enough already. Go get some rest."
Elysia nodded.
Before leaving, she looked at Cassiel one final time.
Then she quietly withdrew.
Later that evening, while washing up, Elysia found herself lost in thought.
Something didn’t make sense.
In her previous life, Cassiel had remained unconscious for years.
Years.
Yet this time, he had already awakened twice.
And it hadn’t even been half a month since she arrived at Draevenor Manor.
Why?
Could he have awakened briefly before in her previous life as well?
Perhaps the news never came out.
She considered the possibility.
Then dismissed it.
No.
That wasn’t right.
She remembered seeing him years later.
Even seated in a wheelchair, he had looked frail.
Gaunt.
Deathly pale.
Nothing like he did now.
If he had awakened earlier, his condition would never have deteriorated that far.
Which meant something had changed.
Something significant.
The answer appeared almost immediately.
Her.
She was the only difference.
Elysia frowned.
A complicated feeling settled over her.
Cassiel had always intended the title of Duchess for the woman he loved.
Everyone knew that.
Instead, fate had delivered Elysia into Draevenor Manor.
Perhaps seeing her here had shocked him enough to pull him back from the edge.
And because her father and brothers had once fought beside him...
Because she was alone now...
Because he pitied her...
He had never mentioned divorce.
The thought filled her with guilt.
She lowered her gaze.
If that truly was the case...
Then she should speak with him properly the next time he awakened.
She could leave at any time. After all, the title of Duchess did not belong to her.
It belonged to the woman Cassiel truly wanted.
The following morning, Elysia rose before sunrise.
Today was important.
Beginning today, she would assume responsibility for the entire household.
And if there was one thing she had learned since arriving at Draevenor Manor, it was this:
Melissa Asheford should never have been entrusted with any of it.
If the estate remained in her hands, it would definitely be brought to ruin.