“……”
“You didn’t do it? Why not? Because it’s not an obligation? But is the marriage still recognized then? Don’t tell me we have to do it right away—.”
Just as I read affirmation from the silence and started blurting out questions in growing worry.
“Enough!”
Aizen, who had been staring at me blankly, abruptly straightened up and cut me off.
With his back turned to me, he dragged a large palm down his face and took a deep breath.
In the novels I had read, the wedding night was a mandatory part of marriage, and skipping it could even invalidate the union, so I was on edge.
After a moment, Aizen regained his composure, sat back down, and took my hand.
His cool lips trembled faintly.
“That is correct, my lady. We have not yet consummated our marriage.”
“Really? Then…”
“However! We cannot do it right now. There is a reason we were unable to.”
“What is it?”
At my curiosity, he slowly opened his mouth with a grave expression.
“The truth is, I am afflicted with a truly dreadful illness. I am not in a physical condition to consummate the marriage.”
“An illness? Where does it hurt?”
“It is an incurable disease called Iceblood Syndrome, where the blood gradually freezes and the heart eventually stops.”
“T-that’s…”
The shocking revelation made it feel as though my breath was caught in my throat.
My heart dropped straight to my feet.
Aizen was terminally ill…
For a moment, my father overlapped with him, and my life before possession flashed past my eyes.
My mother had died in an accident right after I was born, and I lived alone with my father until I was twelve before entering an orphanage.
My father, who had been ill since I was in kindergarten, passed away after a long struggle with disease.
Left alone, I lived by his dying words to “always live brightly and bravely.”
Thankfully, I met a kind orphanage director and managed to grow up well enough.
Still, because I never wanted to experience the pain of losing someone precious again, my ideal type had always been a healthy man.
And yet, the man who became my husband turned out to be terminally ill, just like my father.
As my affection transferred to Aizen, I reached out without realizing it, overwhelmed with emotion.
I wrapped my arms around his broad body and spoke through tears.
“You can’t die, dear.”
I felt Aizen stiffen.
He must have been startled by my sudden crying.
Feeling my eyes heat up and my nose sting, I lifted my head to look at him.
No matter how fleeting beauty might be, possessing a face that was a blessing to the world just by breathing, only to die young, was unfair.
Taking something away after giving it was the worst thing of all.
Aizen gently pulled away from me with a wistful smile and spoke.
“It’s alright. I’m not dead yet. But it is only a matter of time.”
Tears welled up again as I stomped my feet and clutched his sleeve.
“W-what should we do? Is there a treatment?”
“Yes.”
Hope briefly took hold at his gentle reply, only for despair to follow with his next words.
“However, I can no longer be certain about the future.”
“Why? Why?”
“Because the one who was making the medicine to treat my illness was you, my lady.”
“…Me?”
Me, who had only ever bought medicine at a pharmacy, entrusted with such a critical task?
Aizen nodded sincerely and placed a hand on my shoulder.
“Of course you wouldn’t remember. You are the only one who can save me.”
“……”
“But it’s fine. If it’s the you I know, you will quickly research and create the cure again.”
With a gentle smile, he leaned his upper body closer.
As the distance narrowed, I instinctively held my breath.
When he lightly grasped my hair and kissed me, my ears burned hot.
Save my heart.
Meeting my gaze directly, he whispered in a low voice.
“May I trust you?”
“Y-yes…”
When asked like that at such close range, there was no way to refuse.
A satisfied smile appeared on Aizen’s lips as well.
“Good. Then let us sleep for now and meet again tomorrow.”
I obediently lay down on the bed.
He kindly covered me with the blanket himself, wished me good night, and extinguished the candle.
Only after Aizen left did a belated realization hit me.
But how am I supposed to make the cure…?
I didn’t lose my memories. I was possessed, so there’s really nothing I can do.
* * *
After leaving Jena’s room, Aizen headed toward his office with a weary expression.
He had originally been handling ducal affairs there before going to Jena after receiving Greta’s report.
* * *
The next morning, I woke up in my room for the second time.
After sleeping for a bit, the gloom from last night about my husband being terminally ill seemed to fade—
…It really doesn’t.
I stretched, then collapsed forward like a deflated balloon.
“Good morning, my lady.”
Greta entered through the door, once again walking with her crisp, disciplined steps.
“Yes. Did you sleep well too, Greta? It was a little cold while sleeping.”
“I apologize. The insulation magic cast on the mansion is weak, so this is the best we can do.”
I nodded at her slightly cold response.
That meant it couldn’t be helped, right?
Then I had no choice but to accept it.
I washed my face with lukewarm water, changed clothes, and ate a simple breakfast alone in my room.
Noticing Greta standing stiffly by the door, I asked.
“Do you want to eat together?”
“I will decline.”
“Why? Aren’t you hungry?”
“You need not concern yourself.”
She firmly rejected my offer.
Thinking she must not be hungry, I didn’t press further and changed the subject.
“Greta, you said we were close friends originally, right?”
“I have never said such a thing.”
“Huh? Didn’t Aizen say you were close when he introduced you?”
“No. He only said that you trusted me, my lady.”
Wasn’t that basically the same thing?
If you trust someone, it means they’re like a close friend!
When I stared at Greta in confusion with a fork in my mouth, she added.
“A maid like me cannot be friends with my lady.”
“Oh… because of status?”
“Yes.”
Greta answered briefly and closed her mouth.
Feeling the cruelty of a rigid class system, my eyes drooped.
“That’s a shame. I think we could be good friends. Don’t you?”
“……”
“Then how about being secret friends? Like when we were kids, we could write exchange diaries!”
When I asked excitedly, Greta stared at me for a long moment before saying just one thing.
“Please finish your meal.”
“Okay.”
I picked up my utensils and finished eating.
After the meal, the time I had been eagerly waiting for finally arrived.
That time was—
