WHM | Chapter 18

~Chapter 18~

“Everyone will just assume Cedric is making a public complaint for financial compensation.”

“His Lordship isn’t that kind of person. How could he ever use this as a way to ask for money?”

Cassel’s immediate defense of Cedric carried more than just loyalty—it reflected the resolve that the Lowell family would never stoop to that level.

Eileen gave a bitter smile.

Though Cassel was technically just an advisor to Cedric, in moments like these, he clearly revealed himself as a true and upright Lowell.

If only all nobles had at least this much dignity…

 Then perhaps people wouldn’t be selling off their children for titles or killing their relatives over inheritances.

“I know. That’s why I’m saying—whether it’s a fake apology or money, none of it means anything to me. That’s why I don’t want to escalate things.”

It was hard.

 Eileen wasn’t some saint. Of course, a part of her wished the Count of Cassier would fall into ruin.

But if he fell, then the name “Cassier” would fall with him.

 And no matter what had happened, she wasn’t ready to destroy the name she had once been proud of.

It always came back to the same problem.

 She didn’t want to be the one to stain that name, even after everything.

“I just… don’t get it,” Cassel said quietly.

 “From what I can tell, you don’t seem like the type to just endure things. So why are you letting this go?”

Eileen’s words had hit the mark.

 Though Cassel hadn’t meant to imply that, she wasn’t wrong.

“If someone other than Cedric—some lazy, reckless stranger—suddenly became the Duke, you wouldn’t abandon the Lowell family right away, would you? You’d try to protect at least part of the legacy the late Duke left behind.”

As she stepped into the drawing room, Eileen added quietly, “I know it’s not quite the same, but I feel the same way.”

She reached out and gently touched one of the dried petals from the vase sitting on the table.

The withering flowers were proof enough—no lady of the house had cared for this place in some time.

“It’s a shame… that the heir to the Cassier family turned out not to be someone wise and decent like you.”

“…It really is,” she replied softly.

She ran her hand across the table, and a thin layer of grey dust clung to her fingertips.

 The current master of the house was tolerant, which was nice, but this was essentially neglect.

Of course, Cedric likely had bigger concerns than dust in a temporary residence.

 But by the standards of Eileen’s strict grandmother—who despised even a speck of dirt—this place might as well have been abandoned for years.

I should check if there’s even a regular cleaning maid here…

She was about to habitually start managing things around the house—but then remembered she had no right to do so.

She shook off those thoughts and decided to focus on what really mattered. Like Cedric Lowell’s condition.

The way he collapsed like that…

 Honestly, her heart had nearly dropped.

 She couldn’t lie and say she hadn’t been scared for him.

“…Do you think Cedric will be okay?”

“I asked the physician earlier. He said the wound reopened, and he’s suffering from fatigue—but there’s no serious damage. Besides, the young master is naturally strong. He’ll be fine.”

“Still. He pushed himself to come find me… He didn’t have to do that.”

From Cassel’s point of view, it wasn’t something Cedric had done unnecessarily. It had been important—valuable—to Cedric.

But the problem was, the young master he served tended to speak in a very self-centered way. He was so bad at expressing emotions that sometimes Cassel thought it’d be better if he just stayed quiet altogether.

Honestly, they’re total opposites.

 Eileen chose her words with such care and precision—while Cedric blurted things out or said nothing at all.

It was no wonder they often misunderstood each other. They were simply too different in how they communicated.

“He pushed himself because he cares about you, my lady.”

“…You think so?”

Eileen wasn’t sure.

 Maybe Cedric just had a really strong sense of gentlemanliness.

But she didn’t say that out loud.

“Of course.”

“Then… maybe.”

Cassel understood her tone—she wasn’t really agreeing with him, just humoring him.

Still, as someone who hoped Cedric and Eileen’s relationship would improve, he decided to gently change the subject.

“I believe the young master will wake up around early afternoon.”

“I see.”

That was the end of Eileen’s reply.

 She picked up the dead flowers and looked around suddenly.

“Is something wrong, my lady?” Cassel asked.

“It’s just… it doesn’t look good to keep dead flowers in a vase.”

“I’ll have someone take care of it right away.”

Only then did Eileen put the flowers back down. Still, she didn’t seem eager to talk about Cedric.

Is there… some other problem?

 Cassel recalled they had some kind of argument at the ball.

But from what he had seen, they seemed close—they called each other by name from the beginning.

 So maybe she didn’t want to say anything because it was too hard or awkward?

Thinking that, Cassel spoke more directly.

“I believe the young master would feel more at ease if you were with him when he wakes. It may even help with his recovery.”

“…Me?”

Eileen didn’t think that was a good idea.

No matter what she said lately, Cedric’s reactions had all been cold, annoyed, or uninterested.

If he sees me the moment he wakes up, he might even get irritated.

But Cassel seemed to think otherwise.

“Yes, of course. The physician will be in his room, so if you wish, you could… also receive something for your injury.”

He suggested treatment gently, in case she felt burdened.

“All right.”

 Eileen was the kind of person who often softened when others showed her warmth she hadn’t asked for.

“It wouldn’t be good if your wound got worse, would it?”

Instead of ordering her to be examined, Cassel left the choice to her, worried she might feel pressured.

 Moved by his thoughtfulness, Eileen finally nodded.

***

That’s how Eileen, worried about her fiancé’s health, found herself playing the role of the concerned bride-to-be, waiting for him to wake.

“…This is boring.”

At that moment, her honest feeling was that she was bored out of her mind.

 Reading books could only distract her for so long.

 She closed her book and glanced over at the bed.

Cedric Lowell was still lying there, breathing evenly in his sleep.

 Eileen watched him quietly.

It’d be nice if you could be this calm and peaceful more often. 

She thought briefly as she watched him.

“You’ve really been through a lot, huh.”

She crossed her legs on the chair and rested her chin on her hand, muttering to herself.

“An assassin at a ball… who does something that bold?”

Either they were reckless, or they had a lot of confidence.
As her thoughts grew tangled, Eileen’s mind began spinning in circles.

Maybe it wasn’t boldness—maybe it was urgency. Maybe they had to act.

“…Hmm?”

At that moment, a faint groan came from Cedric.

Eileen sat up a little straighter, wondering if he was in pain and whether she should call the doctor.

 But then he opened his eyes halfway and buried his face in his hands, letting out a deep sigh.

At least he doesn’t seem to be in too much pain…

Then suddenly—perhaps sensing her presence—Cedric pulled his hands away and looked at her with a frown.

“Diana?”

“…Wrong guess.”

Even though she gave a calm answer, Cedric’s face was still hazy and unfocused.

The doctor had mentioned that the medicine included a sleeping agent to help him rest,
so even if he sensed someone nearby, he was still too foggy to fully react.

“Too bad. I’m not the one you were hoping for. You’re in the capital, Cedric Lowell.”

Even to her own ears, her voice sounded colder than she’d intended.

Calling out someone else’s name like that…

Of course it was natural that he would expect the one by his side to be someone he’d trusted and been close to since childhood—Diana.

But even knowing that, she couldn’t help but feel hurt.