Chapter 87
Aileen decided to stay and watch while the marquisate’s physician treated Cedric.
At first, the doctor looked uncomfortable.
“Lady Aileen, this might be unpleasant for you to see.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
Cedric’s skin was blistered, oozing in places, red and raw, with patches of dried blood.
It was a terrible sight.
But Aileen didn’t even blink.
“Don’t mind me. Just focus on treating him.”
Cedric had lost consciousness under a strong sleeping agent.
His tightly closed eyes looked unfamiliar—Aileen was used to seeing him full of life and energy.
“…The treatment is finished for now.”
The rain tapped steadily against the window. Only then did Aileen realize she had lost focus for a moment.
She rubbed her eyelids to chase away fatigue.
“How is Cedric’s condition?”
“The injury is severe… but his life is not in danger.”
His inflamed skin was hidden under layers of fresh white bandages.
The doctor washed his hands in a basin and continued.
“He must rest completely and avoid any strain.”
“When will he wake up?”
“He won’t wake for a while. At least not until morning.”
Aileen nodded quietly.
“Thank you.”
“If anything happens, call for me immediately.”
After the doctor and his assistant cleaned up and left, a long time passed before Aileen moved from the window.
“Mm….”
As she approached Cedric lying on his stomach, she heard faint groans mixed with his breathing.
Seeing the slow rise and fall of his shoulders helped calm her.
It wouldn’t be peaceful rest, but he would get the rest he needed.
Aileen watched him for a long while, and just when she turned to leave the room—
“A… ilyn.”
A voice came from behind her.
It was faint, but she clearly heard her name.
“Cedric?”
“……”
But his blue eyes were still closed.
Only steady breathing filled the room.
She hesitated, then returned to the bedside and sat down.
“I’m right here.”
She placed her hand on his uninjured hand.
She thought she felt a slight movement… but it stopped so quickly she couldn’t tell if it was real.
“…Honestly, you…”
If he really was awake, her first reaction would’ve been frustration.
He was too brave for his own good—reckless, stubborn, and refusing to listen to her warnings.
“You should’ve listened before running off.”
Her weak voice trailed out.
If he had been more cautious knowing a fire was coming, maybe he wouldn’t have been injured so badly.
“How do you end up like this every time?”
Looking back to the day they first met—Cedric had always been like this.
Stubborn. Resolute. Always charging ahead.
Usually, that decisiveness shone as strength.
But whenever it concerned her, it transformed into something unbreakable—stubbornness so rigid she couldn’t get through to him.
‘I can handle it myself.’
His determined voice echoed in her mind.
Maybe the problem was her.
Maybe she shouldn’t interfere with the North’s issues he insisted he needed to handle.
“But we aren’t strangers anymore.”
She understood him in the beginning, but now she was tired.
After everything they had gone through, their relationship still felt stuck.
She felt… unseen, misunderstood.
Aileen just wanted him to live.
She didn’t want Cedric to become another person she failed to save.
She had tried so hard not to let him into her life—
But Cedric pushed his way into her heart anyway, without permission, without hesitation.
‘No place to go? What, are you saving your fiancé to use as decoration later?’
Even his grumbling came with affection.
His sudden kindness—so casual, so warm—always softened her heart.
But then he’d draw harsh lines again, distancing himself.
It was unfair.
“I don’t want to be tired of you. Or of us.”
Aileen gently brushed back Cedric’s bangs, dampened by sweat.
His exhale tickled her palm.
“So please understand me a little too.”
Just as she tried hard to understand every part of him—
She wanted him to do the same.
Not jump to conclusions.
Not decide things on his own.
* * *
The door to Cedric’s room shut softly behind Aileen.
Down the hallway, Jeon appeared, clutching a thick book.
His lips were pressed together, his expression tense—like someone who had made a big decision.
When she approached, he spoke immediately.
“Banning him from the territory seems best.”
His calm, monotone voice trembled slightly.
“Who? Hyler?”
“Yeah. Because he’s technically a noble under empire law, he’ll demand a proper trial. That’ll drag things out. So banishment is better.”
He adjusted his glasses, explaining his reasoning.
Only then did Aileen notice the bandages on his hands—he must have gotten burns too.
“In the marquisate, the lord has strong authority over residency. If we notify the neighboring territories too, he won’t be allowed anywhere.”
“You’ve been thinking about this the whole time?”
“If he’s left penniless and wandering, something will happen eventually.”
Killed by bandits, starved, or falling off a cliff—Jeon didn’t have to say it.
The implication was clear.
“I even found examples. Technically, we’re not punishing him. We’re just… letting him go. Nothing legally wrong.”
Aileen took the heavy book from him before he could turn the pages.
“You don’t need to show me. If you found it, it’ll be correct.”
Their eyes met behind his lenses.
Jeon’s eyes were a little red.
His shoulders drooped.
“He could’ve escaped without me.”
“Cedric?”
“Yeah. He got hurt because he wouldn’t leave me behind. So… I wanted to do something too. I’m good at reading, so I looked up everything I could.”
He clutched the law book tightly.
“And it happened in my territory too. I should handle it.”
The determination in his voice was unmistakably Cedric-like.
They had bonded so quickly—and Jeon had already started resembling him.
Or maybe Cedric brought this out of him, Aileen thought.
Cedric giving commands confidently, leading knights—Jeon must have wanted to emulate that.
But Aileen gently held his shoulders and steered him toward his room.
“You’re injured too. Rest now. I’ll watch over Ribbonshire. Don’t worry.”
“You look tired too…”
“I’m fine.”
She had something she needed to do anyway.
Theorn had told her to contact him—he had information about Baron Demicalon’s military movements.
After hearing that, there was no way she could rest.
* * *
Cedric drifted between consciousness and sleep.
Pain shot up his left arm to his shoulder, waking him—only for a wave of exhaustion to drag him back down.
I need to get up…
Lying there felt suffocating.
But no matter how he tried, he couldn’t fully wake.
His eyes refused to open.
“…I’m right here.”
A soft touch.
A sweet scent, and the whisper of hair brushing against his skin.
Ah.
Aileen.
It was Aileen.
The tension in his body melted.
No. He didn’t want to sleep again.
She was saying something—he couldn’t hear clearly, which made him even more frustrated.
What expression was she making?
Was she crying?
Frowning?
He didn’t want to worry her like this.
And it wasn’t even a wound worth worrying about.
After surviving multiple brushes with death, he knew instinctively:
Burns hurt and scarred, but he wouldn’t die from this.
I need to tell her…
Your vision of my death won’t become real. Look—I’m covered in ash, but I survived.
But he couldn’t wake.
Her presence drifted away, and he sank back into sleep.
“Eileen.”
The next moment, he snapped his eyes open.
It was dawn.
The sky was still cloudy, the rain falling quietly.
“…Unbelievable.”
His voice came out hoarse and cracked.
Every part of him hurt.
Then—he heard voices.
Muted, through the wall.
He focused.
One voice was Aileen’s—steady and calm.
The other was a man’s.
…Who?
At first, Cedric assumed it was the butler or a knight.
But something felt strange—familiar, yet foreign.
He couldn’t place it.
And the sound wasn’t coming from the hallway.
It was coming from the small door at the corner of the room—
the door to the attached sitting room.
Cedric pushed himself up.
“Ugh…”
Pain tore through him, forcing a groan out.
His body screamed that he should stay down.
But he swallowed the pain and forced himself to move.
Something felt wrong.
His heart pounded faster with each moment—
urging him toward that door.
To open it.
To find out who Aileen was speaking to.
