THNW 07

To My Husband’s New Wife Chapter : 07

She thought it would stop soon, but once it began, the coughing did not let up.

When it led to difficulty breathing and even retching, Anita hurriedly got up and ran to the bed.

The blanket that had been draped over her shoulders slipped down and fell limply onto the floor.

On the bed, Lancelot—she didn’t know when he had returned—was curled up, enduring the pain.
“Lancelot?”
She carefully wiped Lancelot’s forehead, drenched in cold sweat.

The way he gulped for air looked so difficult it chased away what little drowsiness she had in patches.
“L-Lancelot.

Are you okay?”
The blurred focus between his half-open eyes turned toward her.

Lancelot looked at Anita without a word.

He blinked his eyelids slowly as if he might fall asleep at any moment, then barely moved his parched lips.
“…Not really.”
His voice was terribly hoarse.
“Hm?”
“What you made.”
Staring at him blankly, Anita’s mind flashed to the ginger stew she had offered a few days ago.
“Y-you ate it?

But that, you definitely told the maid to throw it away….”
Lancelot coughed several times again, enough to bring up retching, then slowly continued.
“I… hate strong scents.

It makes me nauseous.

And I can’t stand noisy things either.

It makes my head ring and hurt.

It feels like someone’s gouging my brain with a nail.”
She was surprised.

She’d only thought he was sensitive; she hadn’t imagined he suffered to that extent.
‘I didn’t even know… and Claudnia and I took over one side of the room and got excited and loud.’
With guilt, words wouldn’t come easily.

Lancelot kept his eyes on Anita and continued in a frighteningly hoarse voice.
“I’m just… someone who can’t endure things that are noisy and that stink.”
The eyes that had rested on her for a moment quietly vanished behind thin lids.
“If you’re going to keep coming to Edenbahir, remember this.”
His breathing seemed a little calmer.

Anita gripped the blanket and carefully covered Lancelot’s shoulders.

Letting out a relieved sigh, she left the room.

His words made Anita sink into many thoughts all the way back to her own bedroom.

Countless unendurable stray thoughts tormented her, but the conclusion was one.

No matter what anyone said… she was glad she had come to Edenbahir.
***
Noon on the day the snowstorm that had raged for two full days had eased somewhat.
“Eeeeng, Anitaaa.

Don’t do that—let’s go out.

Huh?

A circus troupe arrived last night!

They say there’s a super tall man, and a woman who breathes fire!”
It was already the tenth time she had pleaded.

Claudnia clung to Anita’s arm with a crying face, repeating the same thing for ten minutes straight.
“Yeah?

Yeah?

Yeeaah?

Let’s go, let’s go!”
Normally, she would have done whatever it took to go along with her, but….

Anita’s gaze went to the tightly closed door.

Beyond that door, Lancelot was asleep.

His condition had worsened a lot since last night, so she kept worrying.

The Duke of Edenbahir wouldn’t return until late evening, and the Dowager Duchess hated Lancelot so much she couldn’t even set foot in his bedroom.

His nanny was nursing him day after day, but she looked very tired.

Anita wanted to help that nanny.
“Today it’s cold too… let’s play outside all day tomorrow, Claudnia.

The circus troupe stays in one place for at least a week.

We can still see it if we go tomorrow.”
“But I want to see it today!

Not tomorrow—I want to see it today!”
Claudnia, pouting as she thrust out her lips, didn’t nod until quite a while later.
“Hmph!

Fine, just this once.

You always grant my requests, so.

I’ll let it slide this time.”
“Thank you.”
“Mom said it’s important to give as much as you receive.

But tomorrow, we really have to play outside all day.

Promise.”
“Yeah, promise.”
And so Anita stayed by Lancelot’s side all afternoon, and then all evening, reading books and doing puzzles.

Feeling relieved that he wasn’t showing symptoms as painful as last night’s.

When she suddenly came to her senses, the clock hand was pointing at eleven.
“Anita.”
Late at night.

Claudnia, changed into a nightgown, approached with worried eyes.
“When are you going to sleep?

You were next to Lancelot all day today.

Aren’t you tired?”
There was nothing to be tired of.

All she did was read or play at puzzles while occasionally checking on Lancelot’s condition.
“I’m worried.

And it’s cold, too.”
“But Lancelot’s originally sick a lot… don’t stay too long.

Then you’ll get sick too.

If two of you are sick, I’ll be lonely because I won’t have anyone to play with.”
“Don’t worry.

Sleep well, Claudnia.”
After Claudnia left.

In the silent bedroom, it seemed she had dozed off lightly.

At the rustling noise, Anita’s consciousness, sunk into the deep sea, slowly woke.
“…Ah.”
After blinking blankly for a while, she hurriedly sat up at a rough groan.
“Ugh….”
Again.
“Lancelot?”
Had the pain started again?

But this time, it was different from usual.

Lancelot had rolled off the bed and was jerking all over as if in a seizure.

W-what do I do.

She rushed over and checked his condition.
“Lancelot, are you okay?”
But his condition was not normal.

From his upper chest to under his jaw, pallid veins stood out clearly like the roots of an old tree.

His lips, split beyond being merely pale, were being bitten without pause, blood streaming down, and his whole body trembled as if convulsing.

Gasping for breath, Lancelot muttered as if sick.
“Damn it, my chest… it’s hot.”
C-chest?

Why?

Is his h-heart sick?
“Just wait a moment, I’ll call someone… ow!”
As Anita tried to call a servant, her body was yanked back and thrown down by a powerful grip she had never experienced.

A hand with bulging veins was choking her arm.

Under pale fingernails digging into her white skin, red droplets of blood began to bead.
“It h-hurts, Lancelot!”
“Ghk.”
Then suddenly, in Lancelot’s eyes, snapped open with a flash, a strange gleam could be seen.

For an instant, Anita’s breathing stopped.
‘Ah.’
At the unfamiliar sensation that made her heart ache, she reflexively bent her back and drew in breath.

What was that?
‘It stung, like a flame had ignited inside my chest.’
At the unfamiliar, strange sensation, Anita stared at Lancelot with a blank face.

His eyes were a little strange.

Pupils slit long vertically, like a reptile’s.

And in those pupils….
‘Golden eyes?’
Were Lancelot’s eyes always such a vivid gold?

As she remembered, they were a slightly deep green….
“Damn it!”
Startled by the scream-like cry, Anita pulled Lancelot into her arms.

A painful groan spilled from his blue-tinged lips.

She was afraid.

The fact that it was Lancelot—no one else, Lancelot, that strong Lancelot—shedding tears because he couldn’t bear the pain was impossible to believe.

Lancelot grabbed Anita’s hand and pulled it up to his own neck as he said,
“Kill me….”
What should she do at times like this?
‘I’m scared.’
What if something happens to Lancelot like this?

If she went out to find someone, she was afraid he might hurt himself.

Anita did not strangle Lancelot’s neck.

Instead, she pulled his shoulders into a deeper embrace.

The aching pain in her arm, covered by fear, vanished before she knew it.

A hoarse voice whispered with difficulty.
“It fucking hurts.

Rather than this… you kill me, Anita.

Please.”
“I-it’s okay, Lancelot.

If you hold on just a little, it’ll be okay.

It’s always been like that.”
Even if only for a single day, she wanted to share his pain.
“I’ll stay here the whole time.

I’ll watch over you all night.

It’s okay, Lancelot.

It’s okay.”
His seizure did not stop.