The physician arrived at a dead sprint, his necktie flying.
“Your Grace! Is the young lady all right? I was told she injured her ankle?”
“No. The ankle will be fine.”
“Pardon?”
“She’s in the middle of acting out a severe sprain. I’ll need you to play along convincingly.”
“I—I beg your pardon?”
The duke gave the physician a brief account of the situation.
The ankle in question was almost certainly uninjured, but as Ivelina had apparently been sweating in a state of sustained anxiety all day, he was to select some generally beneficial medicinal herbs and have them prepared.
“Humor her tearful performance. Give it your all.”
“Leave it to me, Your Grace! I’ll diagnose her with a thoroughly debilitating ankle injury!”
“Hmm. That alone may not be enough.”
The duke stroked his jaw slowly with one broad hand.
He wanted to keep the impudent baby rabbit confined for a few days and enjoy a thorough, unhurried period of looking after her.
“Then—what specific direction shall I take it, Your Grace?!”
“Just tell her she won’t be able to walk for a few days. Act natural.”
“An excellent plan, Your Grace! Understood!”
The physician was confident.
Forty years ago, he had been one of the founding members of the Drama Club at his academy.
“Ah—and one more thing.”
The duke stopped, hand on the door handle, as though something had just occurred to him.
“While you’re at it, do a general examination. Check whether anything else is the matter. I intend to keep her here for a few days to recuperate.”
“Yes, Your Grace! I’ll work in a full check-up as naturally as possible!”
The bedroom door opened.
The small white figure on the bed was vibrating faintly, counting the geometric patterns on the ceiling. She had been wiping the sweat from her palms on her dress repeatedly.
“…!”
The moment she spotted the physician, Ivelina went white in real time. Her green pupils trembled. Her hands, clasped over her stomach, shook and would not be still.
The physician maintained his composure and approached the bed. The duke took up a position beside him, expression solemn.
“I’ll take a look now, miss.”
“…Yes…”
Faced with a medical professional, Ivelina became a cooperative lamb. She offered her ankle without protest. The physician performed his craft with the air of a seasoned practitioner, studying the ankle with great gravity.
“Hmm.”
He turned the slender white ankle this way and that, murmuring thoughtfully to himself.
The duke stood to the side, arms loosely crossed, observing the frightened little lamb with patience, until he judged the timing right.
“How does it look?”
“Walking immediately would be difficult, I’m afraid.”
Ivelina made the expression of a raccoon whose sugar confection had just dissolved in water.
She stayed frozen like that for a moment—then snapped upright and bared her teeth. She began silently fuming. To demonstrate that she was perfectly capable of walking, she rotated her ankle in brisk circles and fixed the physician with a scorching glare.
The physician pretended not to notice and continued his diagnosis.
“I would advise minimizing movement. Her bones are on the finer, more fragile side as it is, which makes the ankle particularly vulnerable to strain. Further stress would only worsen the condition.”
It was a flawless performance.
Ivelina’s face crumpled accordingly. This was a complete disaster, her expression said.
She reached out with one plaintive hand.
“I—the thing is, actually, it’s not quite that—”
Neither the duke nor the physician noticed.
“In my professional opinion, as the longtime physician of this household, I would strongly recommend the young lady remain in this bed, without moving at all, for a day or two. Absolute rest is of the utmost importance, Your Grace.”
The physician’s acting was superb.
“As I thought.”
The duke nodded gravely, exhaled, and gestured for the physician to join him at the far end of the room.
They moved to a sufficient distance from the bed and lowered their voices to where only each other could hear.
“Your Grace—will this do? Shall I come back to extend the prescription by a few days if needed?”
“Well done. That’s more than enough.”
“Ha—excellent.”
The duke caught Ivelina’s eyes across the room. He looked away without expression.
The physician similarly avoided the heat of her gaze.
“Your Grace—the young lady keeps glancing over here like a puppy who’s had its food taken away…”
“Pretend you don’t see it.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Lower your voice further. Tell me what you actually found with her health.”
The physician absorbed the term ‘baby rabbit’ as referring to Ivelina without any particular surprise.
“The ankle is, as expected, perfectly fine. However…”
“However?”
The duke’s brows drew together.
“Her bones are genuinely quite fragile. Think of them as soft throughout—meaning her risk of fracture is relatively high. Her weight is also, as I had heard, near the underweight threshold. And—has the young lady been going out frequently recently?”
Ivelina had been visiting the ducal manor nearly every day, darting around with considerable energy.
“It would seem so.”
“That would explain it. There is some mild swelling in her legs.”
“What should be done about that?”
“For the time being, she should reduce her outings, take nourishing meals, and begin a course of restorative herbs to build her strength. Until the swelling subsides, rest is advisable.”
“That will be sufficient?”
“Entirely. I’ll begin her herbal course today.”
The physician made careful notes. He finished writing up the prescription—and then something flashed across his mind, and his eyes went wide.
“Oh! Your Grace—you haven’t taken today’s suppressant yet! That could be dangerous!”
“I’m already half out of my mind.”
The duke’s eyes glittered dangerously.
The physician’s palms went immediately, catastrophically damp.
“G—good heavens! I’ll have Hugo bring Your Grace’s suppressant at once—along with the young lady’s herbs!”
“Yes. And—have word sent to Florence manor in advance. Tell them I’ll be returning her in two days. If they express any concern, have a written medical opinion drafted and sent along.”
“Understood, Your Grace!”
The two of them returned to their respective roles.
The seasoned physician delivered his sentence from the doorway.
“Your Grace, I’ll take my leave now.”
It was at that moment that Ivelina, who had been watching the door with enormous effort, mustered her courage.
“Um—excuse me, Doctor—”
“Yes. Good work.”
The duke gave the physician a pointed look: ‘out, now.’
“—sir…”
The physician bowed quickly and was gone.
The duke closed the bedroom door and turned back toward the bed.
He settled beside Ivelina and closed the distance between them.
She flinched visibly, her fists clenched white-knuckled in her lap.
She had the look of a small animal that had been caught by the scruff and dragged somewhere against its will. The duke regarded her with quiet satisfaction and drew the back of his hand slowly down the soft curve of her cheek.
“What are we to do, Ivelina.”
“…”
“For a day or two…”
“…”
“The doctor says you’re not to leave my bed.”
“…”
“We really ought to do as the doctor says, don’t you think?”
The duke drew one corner of his mouth upward. Ivelina, chalk-white, wrestled the words out of herself.
“…B—but I need to go home, everyone will be worried—”
“I’ve already sent word to Florence manor.”
“Pardon?”
The hand that had been grazing her soft skin began to move with new purpose. He combed slowly through the honey-gold hair and said, low:
“That for the sake of your recovery… you would be staying in one of the guest rooms for two days.”
“…”
“So there’s no need to worry.”
The duke watched the alarm flare across her face—and let his blood-red eyes curve gently.
* * *
