WLTIS | CHAPTER 68

~CHAPTER 68~

“…It’s nothing.”

Despite saying that, the man looked perfectly fine.
Maybe he realized it was hard to keep pretending he was sick, because he lowered his eyes and leaned against her.

“Lincia.”

“Then you should rest more. Lie down. I’ll get up now.”

Though she was relieved Harvich wasn’t actually sick, she was still annoyed that he had made her worry.

“Please don’t go.”

Lincia firmly pushed away the hand gripping her robe and said coldly,
“Sick Harvich Cassius. Rest.”

As Lincia tried to rise, he quickly spoke.
“It’s a sickness that only gets better when I go somewhere with you.”

“What kind of sickness is that?”

“This kind.”

Harvich gently took her hand again and placed it over his heart.
“It seems to be the kind that strikes when one breaks a promise.”

Hadn’t he written in his letter that he would show her a new place if she stayed healthy until they met again?
He had also said yesterday that he would stay by her side.

Harvich added things like how he had to go in the daytime, as if to make his lie about taking sick leave sound more convincing.

“Please, just this once, close your eyes to it. I need some rest too.”

The way he clung to her — like a man trying to act cute — melted away her anger completely.

Besides, she was curious about the place he mentioned.
Once Lincia admitted defeat, Harvich immediately called for the servants, saying they should first have a proper meal.

He had them bring various dishes, but he spent more time taking care of Lincia’s plate than his own.
He kept pushing her favorite foods toward her and insisted on feeding her himself.

At first, she was too embarrassed and refused to let him feed her, but he persisted, offering different dishes until she gave in.
By the end, she was sure she had eaten more from his hand than on her own.

“I’m full.”

“How about just one more bite?”

“You keep saying that and adding another each time. I really can’t eat anymore.”

When Lincia grimaced, Harvich set his spoon down reluctantly.
“Understood.”

Only after she finished did Harvich start eating properly himself.
Lincia, mimicking what he had done, speared a piece of food and held it to his lips.

Harvich softly caught her wrist and ate it without hesitation.
She thought he’d at least check what it was first, but he simply accepted it.

“Do you even know what I’m giving you?”

“Does it matter? It’s from you.”

“…Don’t you have any shame?”

“Anything you give me is good.”

“And if I hesitate, you’ll have to keep holding up that fork with your delicate arm — I don’t want that.”

At his low, teasing voice, Lincia’s cheeks burned.

Do men in love always become this shameless?

She couldn’t help thinking that as she looked at him.

“…There’s nothing you dislike or can’t eat?”

“I eat everything.”

True to his word, Harvich didn’t refuse a single thing she offered.
Now and then, he glanced at her arm as if worried she’d get tired, but Lincia was too amused and pleased by how obediently he ate to stop until the dishes were empty.

When she finally looked down and realized all the plates were cleared, she was horrified.

“You didn’t eat all that just to please me, did you?”

Harvich paused, then nodded.
“Yes.”

He then called for the servants to clear the table.

“Please wait a moment while I get ready. Make sure you dress warmly too.”

He said that, but seemed reluctant to part from her, still holding her hand.

“It’s hard to let go.”

“Are you saying you want to watch me change?”

When Lincia teased him with a glare, he quickly released her hand.

“I’ll step out.”

His ears flushed red as he vanished from the room.

Once she finished getting ready, Lincia ordered Erna to call Harvich back.
He appeared wearing a coat — something he rarely wore indoors.

Harvich carefully looked her over from head to toe.

“That seems too light.”

“I’m dressed plenty warm. It’ll take me forever to take all this off.”

His expression stiffened, his neck turning red as he pulled something from his coat and placed it in her hands.

The fur scarf was soft and warm, embroidered with flowers at the ends — elegant and delicate.

Trying not to show her delight, Lincia asked,
“What’s this?”

But no answer came.
For a simple question that should have been met with “It’s a scarf,” Harvich hesitated for quite a while.

“A gift…”

He finally managed to say the word.
That only made Lincia more confused.

“You don’t like it?”

He had given her unexpected gifts many times before — jewels, a coat, even when he had placed a ring on her finger — yet he had never acted so awkwardly.

“No, I do. But what’s wrong? You don’t look well. Did I make you eat too much?”

At her concerned voice, Harvich waved his hand.

“Actually, I meant to give this as a token of thanks for the handkerchief you gave me. Not the coat from before.”

At his words, Lincia suddenly remembered the day she had left the Grand Duke’s castle.

‘Can you stay with me tomorrow?’

Harvich, who hadn’t kept that promise — and everything that followed because of it.

“Why are you telling me this now?”

“Because His Majesty came here for your sake.”

Now, receiving a gift in return for the handkerchief felt strange.
Hadn’t Harvich already given her the jeweled flower back then?

Lincia’s eyes drifted toward the table, where a glass jar holding a dried flower sat beside the sparkling jeweled one.

“I know it’s a memory that pains you.”

Lincia stared blankly at the scarf in her hands.
He knew that — and still.

“Even so, I wanted to give it to you.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to respond to your sincerity with sincerity of my own.”

Lincia looked down at the scarf again.
It was lovely, though not particularly unique.

“It’s made from a fox I caught myself.”

“…”

“But if it brings up painful memories, you may throw it away.”

* * *

Harvich hesitated as he watched the woman smile over the scarf.
But he knew that if she ever discovered the truth later, there’d be no chance for forgiveness, so he chose to confess.

Even if she discarded it, he would accept it.
Yet, Lincia showed him unexpected mercy.

When Harvich couldn’t take his eyes off the scarf around her neck, she spoke coolly,

“That doesn’t mean I’ve forgiven you, so don’t get the wrong idea.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

Her fair skin and the memory of her in a white dress flashed through his mind.
The scarf suited her even better than he had imagined.

As they walked toward the greenhouse, Harvich began talking nervously, saying things like he had thought one fox would be enough, and sharing things he couldn’t easily tell anyone else — just so she might look his way.

“You told those embarrassing things when I wasn’t there…?”