Home Post 846-chapter-115-1


King Radel’s letters were always similar, only the greetings varied slightly.

The essence was always the same. ‘When will Duke Valentino fully recover and get up to assist me?’

‘He’s quite impatient.’

I wrote the reply and sealed the letter with wax.

Ringing the bell, a servant who entered through the side door took the letter without being asked. This servant belonged to the imperial attendant, who would ensure the letter reached the hands of the imperial household. Soon, it would be in King Radel’s hands.

Just as King Radel always made the same request, I had been responding with the same message. Like this:

[My husband still requires rest for his recovery, I hope for your gracious understanding, Your Majesty.]

This was the fifth time… I wonder when King Radel would give up. He seemed unexpectedly persistent. Despite always appearing cheerful, he was quite dark on the inside… Well, perhaps it’s better than a ruler being a naive fool.

“…Have you finished writing?”

As I approached the bed again, Theodore poked his head out from the blankets. He had been feeling particularly cold these days, apparently due to the effects of Seraphim raising his body temperature too much.

It seemed the event in the cave, where he had burned his life to protect me, had caused a significant change in Seraphim. It was showing signs of growth and becoming stronger… or so Somnia said.

“King Radel seems busy with cleanup. He’s desperate for your help.”

“…Please tell him I’m still unwell.”

…I shouldn’t think this way, but honestly, his condition seemed somewhat exaggerated.

While it’s true he has arrhythmia and shortness of breath… it’s not like he’s completely incapacitated…

The doctor did say, ‘He needs rest’, but there’s also a possibility that Theodore and the doctor could have colluded…

It’s a reasonable suspicion that he might be pretending to be worse off than he is.

And he seems to be looking at me with those pitiful eyes on purpose.

“…As usual, I wrote that you’re still recovering and asked for understanding. What can we do, if someone is ill?”

“Thank you, Lily.”

Theodore smiled warmly. His appearance, covered with blankets with only his head sticking out, was somewhat comical. But I didn’t laugh. Keeping my expression neutral, I opened a book and said.

“Get some sleep. I’ll be reading.”

“What book is it?”

“…Just a collection of poems.”

“You like poetry.”

“I like all kinds of writing.”

“So do I.”

“Go to sleep now.”

“Yes, but…”

With a smile tinged with amusement, Theodore cautiously made a request.

“Could you read a poem to me? Just one…”


His request seemed bothersome. Yet, reading one poem was not a difficult task. I opened the page marked with a forget-me-not bookmark and read my favorite poem aloud.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?

Thou art more lively and more temperate.

Rough winds do shake darling buds of May,

And summer’s lease hath all too short a date;

Sometimes too hot the eyes of heaven shines,

And often is his gold complexion dimmed..

And every fair from fair sometimes declines

By chance or nature’s changing course untrimmed;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st

Nor death brag thou wand’rest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to time thou grow’st

So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,

So long as lives this, and this gives life to thee.

“…It’s beautiful.”

“I won’t read any more.”

“That poem suits you very well, I think.”

“…It is my favorite poem.”

“I see. I’m learning more about you.”

Theodore chuckled briefly, then finally closed his eyes. Whether he truly fell asleep or not, I couldn’t be sure. He might have been pretending, as he had done before, and even long before that.

Swallowing a sigh, I withdrew my gaze from him and dropped my eyes back to the book. Reinserting the forget-me-not bookmark, the phrase ‘eternal summer’ touched the blue petals.

Staring at where they met, I then lifted my gaze back to Theodore.


I suddenly wanted to tease him in his peaceful slumber.

He wouldn’t know.

He hadn’t read the letter I gave him but burned it instead.

‘A poem that suits me well?’

A hollow laugh escaped me.

The reason I grew fond of this poem was because of you…