BIHNM 13

Chapter 13 

Nightmare

The shopping itself ended quickly. Without making any detours, I bought an extra jar of fig jam and headed back to the little bird.

Inside the wooden apple crate, the small bird stayed still, its tiny lungs rising and falling faintly. With my shallow, makeshift knowledge, I had done my best to splint its injured leg, and then prepared food and water. Yet it continued to sit there motionless, like some handcrafted souvenir figurine.

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

When I gently held out my hand and poured magic into it, the bird gave a small shiver—and then, slowly, began to peck at the food. Perhaps the pain had lessened.
Maybe my power wasn’t limited to healing drakes—it could even work on a small bird.
If that was true, I would be so happy.

“I’m glad…”

It was still fragile, but if it could ease the pain enough to keep eating and regain its strength, then even if it never flew again, it might at least stay alive.

Feeling relieved, I continued to watch the little bird eat. Before I knew it, night had completely fallen.

I stepped out into the corridor and made my way toward my room.
The door was slightly ajar; a nightgown had been laid neatly across the bed, and the lamp was already lit.
Surely this had been done every evening—waiting quietly for the room’s rightful occupant, for me, to arrive.

But right now, I didn’t want to move the bird unnecessarily. I should stay and observe its condition first. If there’s still more work for me after that, I can move then.

As I walked through the hall, I noticed a faint light leaking from the study—the door was a little open. Lord Margus was still working.

The words from earlier in the day echoed in my mind:
“Helping is also a wife’s duty.”

––Was there something I could do for him?

If I truly was his wife, it wouldn’t be strange for me to visit his study.
After all, only Lord Margus himself knew the real circumstances.
Since everyone was acting according to that rule, it wouldn’t do for me to break the harmony.

––I should speak to him. This is an important matter.

Taking a deep breath, I knocked softly on the door.
There was no response.

“Lord Margus…?”

Still nothing.
Perhaps he had already gone back to his bedchamber.

I hesitantly pushed the door open—and saw no one at the desk.
Instead, Lord Margus was asleep on the sofa, leaning back, clearly exhausted.

…So much for having a conversation tonight.

I couldn’t bring myself to wake him, and of course I couldn’t carry him to bed either.
When I quietly returned with a blanket, I noticed that his brow was furrowed.

He hadn’t looked like that before.
It seemed he was having a bad dream.

“Lord Margus…”

I called out again. No answer—only a deeper crease between his brows.
It wasn’t anger. It was sorrow, pain.
In the soft lamp light, his face looked terribly sad.

“…Excuse me.”

Careful not to touch him directly, I hovered my hand over his forehead and let a gentle magic flow.
It was faint enough that the glow wouldn’t wake him.

I didn’t know if it would work, but it had to be better than doing nothing.
There’s nothing more unpleasant than waking in a cold sweat from a nightmare.
If he was feeling pain or suffering in his dreams… then if my power could ease it, even a little, that would be wonderful.

After a while, his expression gradually relaxed.
Maybe… it worked.

Watching his face—so different from his usual composed, dignified self, soft and peaceful like a sleeping boy—I felt an unexpected warmth bloom inside my chest.

––No, that’s not right. I shouldn’t be feeling this way.

I was only hired for this job.
If I let myself feel more than that, I’d only end up hurt again.
I couldn’t afford to hope for anything beyond this.

Just as I started to pull my hand back—

“Algerieta…”

Lord Margus suddenly grabbed my wrist.

“…!”

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest.
I could almost praise myself for not screaming.

“…”

He had called my name, but his eyes never opened.
It seemed I was simply appearing in his dream—and he had spoken my name in his sleep.

––So he isn’t awake. Thank goodness.

If he woke now, he’d surely feel uncomfortable.
After all, who wouldn’t be embarrassed to find someone watching them sleep?

Holding my breath, I stayed frozen until his grip finally loosened.
His lips curved faintly, as if in a gentle smile.
At least I wasn’t being scolded in his dream.

I laid the blanket over him, slipped quietly out of the study, and exhaled.

He was probably haunted by memories of the battlefield—or perhaps the troubles of the ducal house.
Whichever it was, they were all heavy burdens to bear.

––Compared to that, my worries are so small.

Resolving not to trouble him further, I quietly returned to my room.