WHM | Chapter 13

 ~Chapter 13~

The physician’s hands were busy tearing the sleeve to check the wound. Cedric’s vision blurred—splitting into two for a moment before merging back together.

 Cassel, who noticed Cedric’s swaying head, stopped mid-sentence.

“Is the poison that strong?”

“…I said I’m fine.”

“Still, poison is poison. You need to take the antidote properly—”

It was hard to focus.

Cedric pressed a hand to his forehead, then froze. The burning heat on his palm made him hesitate.

 He opened his mouth to say something, but instead collapsed forward without a sound.

Then everything went black.

***

When Cedric finally woke up, he was lying in a soft bed.

One glance at the ceiling was enough to tell him he was in his own room.

 The curtains were drawn, and the hazy daylight outside confirmed it was daytime.

“…Cassel.”

His voice was rough and dry. He wiped sweat from his forehead.

 He’d built a resistance to most poisons, but this one must’ve been powerful to knock him out like that.

But the person who answered wasn’t Cassel—it was Eden.

“You’re awake, sir.”

He had apparently stayed by Cedric’s side the whole time.

Eden stood up from where he had been leaning against the wall, arms crossed.

“Are you alright?”

Cedric blinked slowly instead of answering, then asked a question.

“…How long was I unconscious?”

“You collapsed last night. It’s now the afternoon of the next day. Even with your resistance, it takes time for a full recovery.”

“You stayed with me all night?”

“…You slept quite peacefully.”

“Don’t do that again, even if Cassel orders you to. Take turns if you have to.”

“I was worried, that’s all.”

“I’m sure the physician said I’d be fine.”

Cedric frowned and pushed himself up.

The room smelled strongly of medicine. The heavy air made him feel suffocated. He thought of opening the window.

“You shouldn’t move so suddenly.”

But the dizziness hit him right away, and he slumped back down, holding his head.

“I just… felt stuffy.”

“I’ll open the window for you.”

Cedric watched Eden open the window as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts.

“What about the ball? What happened after?”

“It ended safely. No one knows you were injured. We thought it best not to let that information spread.”

So they had taken care of the assassins quietly, without letting anyone find out.

“…What about Eileen?”

His hazy thoughts were starting to clear again—and she was the first person to come to mind.

He hadn’t been able to finish their conversation last night. He had passed out, leaving her in silence.

What could she be thinking now?

“Did Eileen send any message?”

The way Cedric glanced at the door, almost hopeful, even he didn’t understand why.

Eileen Cassier was the kind of person who couldn’t leave things unresolved.

 She would’ve barged in this morning if she thought something had been left unsaid.

He had honestly expected her to.

But Eden answered firmly.

“There’s been no word from Lady Eileen.”

“…I see.”

Cedric instinctively raised his hand to rub his face, but a sharp pain stopped him. All he could do was feel even more frustrated.

She’s probably upset…

It had been an urgent situation, and even if he hadn’t meant it, Cedric had coldly pushed Eileen away.

 He knew very well that he hadn’t done anything right.

 But still—he couldn’t deny that he felt a little hurt that Eileen hadn’t even offered a basic explanation or excuse before.

Just then, as Cedric sat in conflicted silence, Eden spoke up carefully.

“Shall I inform Lady Eileen about your current condition?”

“We can’t let word of the assassination get out. Just tell her I was lightly injured during sparring.”

“I’ll send someone with that message.”

As soon as the words left his mouth, Cedric realized how pathetic it sounded—like he was using his injury as a cheap way to get Eileen’s attention.

“Wait a minute…”

He tried to stop Eden, but the knight had already left the room in a flash.

Would she really care that I was hurt?

Even if she mocked him for it, he’d have no right to complain.

But now that Eden had left and he was stuck staring at the wall alone, his thoughts started to shift.

He realized he wouldn’t even mind hearing Eileen scold him for saying something unnecessary—just to hear her voice again.

***

Eileen Cassier would be lying if she said Cedric Lowell’s cold words hadn’t hurt her.

But instead of drowning in despair or sadness, she chose to turn her negative emotions into anger.

 Because that was who she was—someone who didn’t just collapse under pressure.

Knock knock.

That was why, on the morning after the ball, she stood firmly in front of the Count’s office.

“Count Cassier, may I come in?”

He always tried to act close to her, calling himself her “uncle.”

But Eileen refused to consider him family anymore. So she stuck to using cold, formal titles.

“Come in.”

As expected, the count responded with a sweet voice as soon as she knocked.

“What brings you here? I was just about to write to Lord Lowell—”

“I heard you said something completely unnecessary.”

Click.

 The door shut behind her as Eileen cut him off and got straight to the point.

Her eyes drifted to the polished new desk in the room.

The old, worn wooden desk her father used—full of memories and handprints—was long gone.

She remembered sneaking into this room despite her mother’s warnings not to bother her father.

 But now, it was so changed, it no longer stirred any warmth or memories.

Once again, Eileen was painfully reminded—there was no place for her here anymore.

But she hadn’t come here to recall her past.

“…What exactly did you tell Lord Lowell?”

She finally pulled her eyes away from the desk and asked.

“I said what needed to be said.”

The Count coughed and stood up, clasping his hands behind his back.

“You said it was necessary… to suggest hiring a knight we don’t even know as my personal guard?”

“He’s the son of one of my most loyal men. He’s hardly a stranger. You can rely on him.”

Of course. It was all so predictable.

Rather than spending the family’s money to reward his loyal servant, he wanted to use her marriage to flaunt his authority.

He was likely thinking of how to profit off the Duke’s household while he was there.

“You think I can rely on him? No—you were thinking about how to plant someone in the Duke’s house.”

“Come now. We’re all Cassiers here. The more people from our family inside the Duke’s estate, the easier your marriage will be.”

“I don’t need that. So never approach Cedric Lowell like that again.”

This wasn’t just frustration—it was a matter of pride.

Eileen had always hated looking pitiful. She couldn’t forgive the Count’s selfishness.

It didn’t matter what Cedric thought of her. That was separate.

No matter who it was, she would never allow anyone to use the Cassier name to pull something like this.

Because being a Cassier came with responsibilities—ones her grandmother and parents had taught her well.

“Cassiers don’t crawl after power like this.”

Just a few more years. That was all she needed.

Just a few more years of staying safe under the emperor’s orders, behind the shield of Lowell.

If only… that was all it took.

But what would happen after she left?

She could already see the Cassier family being dragged into the mud, consumed by greed and power struggles.

She couldn’t just sit back and let that happen.

“If it were my grandmother… or my father… they would never have done what you did.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with your fiancé. You don’t even know what you should or shouldn’t say anymore.”

To the Count, she was just a powerless noble girl.

 What right did she have to speak up for a family she would one day leave?

That was the reasonable argument anyone would make.

But Eileen didn’t care.

Everyone she loved had already left her.

But for Aileen, the only things she had left were the values and memories of the loved ones who were no longer with her.

So how could she throw away the name “Cassier” without a second thought?

How could she not care?