Chapter 9

“I have to get this flower to her.”

“That’s hardly important right now!”

“I know I shouldn’t... ask you to do this for me, but... please, help. I can’t...” I couldn’t catch my breath to finish my sentence, but Lenox seemed to have understood. He scowled angrily and looked at me with quite an emotional expression.

“I-I’ll help. Just try to stay awake... Actually, just take a short nap. It won’t hurt anymore when you wake up,” he said. His eyes were glued to my feet rather than my face.

Lifting me into his arms, he made me lean against him. He then began to walk swiftly. I couldn’t recall anyone ever having held me this way besides my mother. I knew he was a complete stranger, and maybe the exhaustion was clouding my mind but I felt so comfortable in his embrace. I felt the tension draining out of me and closed my eyes to try and forget the pain.

As my eyes fluttered shut, I could see the butterfly slowly disappearing.

Thank you.

“Bye, butterfly.”

And then everything went black.

* * *

My body felt hot. I felt like I was getting boiled alive, like I’d caught a cold or the flu. My breathing was ragged, and I couldn’t stop coughing. Breathing alone was painful enough, but combined with the pain from my injury I was dead to the world. The fever caused me to fade in and out of consciousness for days until my head finally cleared and I opened my eyes.

“Ah, ahem.” It felt like my throat had been split down the middle. My voice was thick and raw. As I started to cough, a glass of water appeared before me. I took it without hesitation and drank deeply. Warm water slid down my throat and the sensation made me feel more awake. Looking around, I realized that I didn’t know where I was.

I heard quiet laughter next to me. When I turned to the noise, there was a boy who looked a few years younger than Lenox. He had pale pink hair and red eyes that glistened with interest behind his round spectacles. When our eyes met, his eyes curved with his smile. Red pupils—just like Chloe’s. Examining him closely, I noticed that they resembled each other.

“So you’re finally awake,” the boy said.

“Who are you?”

“Oh, my apologies. Introductions first, of course.” I knew I sounded suspicious and abrupt, but he merely grinned. He pointed at himself and began his introduction as if he were talking to a very young child. “My name is Ricarda Benedito. I’ve been looking after you.”

“Are you a doctor?”

“Something like that.”

What could that possibly mean? A doctor is a doctor. So, what is he? Seeing the deep suspicion in my eyes, Ricarda began explaining hastily, “I-I happen to be a mage. Only healer mages can choose to be doctors, but my major isn’t healing.”

“A mage,” I repeated.

“Yes, yes.”

I looked down as Ricarda explained, and found my arm wrapped in bandages. I lifted the blanket dubiously, and I saw that something resembling plaster was around my injured right leg from the knee down. It was just like the casts I had seen in my previous life.

Ricarda sounded relieved when he spoke, “It’s good to see you awake. You’ve been struggling with a fever for days. I don’t think it’ll bother you anymore.”

“What happened to my leg?”

“Hm?” Ricarda hesitated upon hearing my question, before trying to change the subject.

I asked him once more, “Is my leg ruined?”

“What are you talking about? Of course not!”

“Then what happened? Am I disabled now?”

The question made Ricarda groan before he asked me with a serious expression, “What would you do, if you were disabled now?”

“I guess I’d say that I’m lucky to be alive.” It would be rather unfortunate, though.

When I said this, Ricarda gaped at me, dumbstruck. Seeing his bewilderment, I tilted my head in confusion. Ricarda, still gaping, stood up. “No! Absolutely not!” I stared at him, still confused. He scrubbed at his red eyes and said with a rigid look, “I’ll fix your leg no matter what it takes. It’s a very serious injury, almost indescribably so! But I promise I’ll make you all better.” Ricarda refused to explain anything more about my condition.

The injury must be more serious than I anticipated. I might have a limp for the rest of my life. But look how far I’ve come. I’m pretty lucky to be alive, aren’t I? Ricarda seemed unaware of what I was thinking because he went on to explain that I had been unconscious for three days. He said that I might be left with a scar, but he swore that he would heal it. I wasn’t inclined to trust him completely regarding this matter. I don’t think he sensed my indifference because he went on speaking endlessly before finally collapsing in his seat and attempting to catch his breath. Then he took my hand in his and said earnestly, “I am your brother now, and I will fix you no matter what. So put your trust in your big brother.”

What was he on about? I don’t have a brother. “I don’t have any siblings,” I said bluntly, having no idea what he was talking about.

Ricarda weakly said, “Ah,” before slowly rising from his chair. “I forgot that I had to fetch Mother as soon as you woke up. Wait here for a moment.”

“Okay.”

Lenox must have carried me back, seeing that I was safe and had been treated. I hope he delivered my flower too. It made me uncomfortable to think I hadn’t been able to finish the task with my own hands, but the mission had been to bring the flower here. I hope she doesn’t make excuses to try and force me away.

Ricarda left the room after bidding me to stay put. I examined the quiet room for a moment and sighed loudly. I had been so frightened by the idea that death had come for me, but it seemed help had arrived instead to save me. Chloe was proving more difficult to win over than I had expected, but I had a good feeling about this—like everything was going to work out.

* * *

It wasn’t long before I heard a knock at the door. It opened abruptly.

“You’re looking a lot better. Three days ago, you were a mangled mess,” Chloe tutted in annoyance, ignoring the glare Lenox was aiming at her as he followed her into the room. She then approached me. “I asked for a flower, not a mangled little girl. You gave me quite the shock, and it’s not easy to surprise me.”

“You were surprised?”

“I may seem like a cold woman, but anyone would be shocked to have a half-dead child brought to them.”

“Mother, you don’t need to be so crude.” Chloe tightly pressed her lips together when Lenox pointed this out.

I didn’t think she’d care. In the book, I knew her to be a cold, fierce, and vengeful woman. As I stared up at her in disbelief, our eyes met. I could see my reflection in her startling red pupils. She did not avoid my eyes. Fortunately her gaze no longer seemed so hostile.

“I believe apologies are in order.”

“Apologies?” I tilted my head, confused.

Chloe sighed and sat next to me. “I assumed that you would give up as soon as you set foot on the other side of the castle gate. The forest was dark, and you weren’t in great condition.” I remained silent as I listened to her.

“But you wandered around that forest until you found this flower.” Lenox approached with a glass bottle held carefully in his hands. Inside the jug-shaped bottle, the flower was immersed in a liquid that sloshed about.

“The flower you brought is called a stacia. It is a rare herb that eases pain.” She frowned and sighed again. “They say it’s tricky to grow stacias since they only grow between rocks and are easily affected by the weather. And you found one.”

“Is it expensive? Is it a gift worthy of you?”

“Yes. It is more than sufficient. 100 gold wouldn’t buy you one of these. Her voice was strangely amused, as if she were struggling not to laugh.

I felt hope rising from deep within me.

“You managed to make the impossible, possible. You won.” Chloe wore a satisfied smile.

I smiled slightly in return and nodded. Her words of approval brought me immense happiness.

“Yes. An apology is an apology. I will hear you out, now that I have the documents and the flower.”

“There isn’t a lot that I want—just to be named your heiress.”

She was taken aback, blinking in surprise. As I had anticipated, Chloe certainly had not expected me to ask for so much. “You said you didn’t want a lot, yet you ask to be named my heiress?”

“Just the title will do. I don’t need to be your real heiress.” The position itself would give me the leverage I needed to change the story. I just didn’t want the hero to come and take it for himself.

Everyone grew quiet, realizing that I was serious. Chloe stared down at me and then asked, “Why are you doing this? If you just wanted to survive, all you’d need is patronage from the estate.”

“I want to change the story.”

“The story, you say?” My sudden use of such a strange word seemed to confuse Chloe.

I kept steady eye contact as I explained, “The villainess of a duchess is dead, and everyone wants her daughter dead as well. That’s my fate in the story—or so everyone says.” Shoving down the sorrowful ache in my chest, I continued, “I don’t want to blindly follow a story written for me. It’s my life, and I want to survive.” I wanted to change the ending of this story and snatch up the happy ending for myself. “I want to write my own story and outlive them. I’ll do it—even if it means twisting fate.”

It would be hard to make them understand, but I tried to keep to the truth, seeing as Chloe was the one who had agreed to take me in.

“After all, who doesn’t like a little twist?”