“You used to say you loved me all the time.”
Alex studied my face, probing.
He’s a thoroughly calculating man.
Not the type to toss out romantic words without reason.
I smiled shyly, subtly slipping my hand from his grasp.
Taking a sip of water to soothe my parched throat, I said, “Alex, I love you. So much.”
My voice dripped with sweetness, and Alex smiled, satisfied.
In my past life, he poisoned me, and I’d avoided him as much as possible.
But now, things had to change.
I’d play the perfect fiancée, ensuring he’d face ruin unprepared.
Flashing a stream of smiles, I gently touched his shoulder.
“I’ve been so excited I can barely sleep. Our wedding’s just a month away. Preparations are going well, right?”
“Of course. I’m planning to fill the venue with your favorite flowers.”
“Really?”
I clasped my hands, feigning eager anticipation.
Seeing my exaggerated joy, Alex’s lips stretched into a smug grin.
You’re still in the palm of my hand, his arrogant gaze seemed to say.
“The wedding will be filled with the scent of hyacinths. Just imagining it makes me so happy.”
I spoke with heightened enthusiasm.
A flicker of confusion crossed Alex’s face.
“…Hyacinths? Right… I knew you’d love that.”
His stammering attempt to cover up was laughable.
In my past life, he’d decorated the venue with roses.
When I mentioned my love for hyacinths after the ceremony, he brushed it off as a mistake.
[Viscount, guess the meaning of red roses this time.]
[Easy. ‘I swear eternal love to you alone,’ right?]
I remembered a conversation between Alex and Rachel around this time in my past life.
They often played quiz games, so I hadn’t suspected anything.
Only after my death did I realize it was their secret code.
Alex mocked me openly, pledging his love to Rachel by filling my wedding with her favorite red roses.
I wanted to spit in his smiling face.
But the more I felt that urge, the brighter I smiled, swallowing my rage.
I pictured Alex floundering in ruin.
The day to visit Prince Claude’s castle, as per our weekly arrangement, arrived.
I packed the Lazeraan potion, the crumpled newspaper, and various medicines for different effects.
Thanks to the stamina pills, trekking through the rough forest path was easier.
Arriving at the castle faster than before, I knocked on the heavy gate.
On my third visit, the gate opened promptly.
“Welcome, my lady,” the butler greeted, leading me through the sprawling garden to the manor’s entrance, where servants bowed in unison.
Anna greeted me with a bright smile.
“Lady, you’re here! Your bag looks heavy today.”
“Yeah, I brought a few medicines. Where’s His Highness?”
“He’s in his bedroom. The physician’s examining him now.”
“I’ll head there, then.”
The butler bowed, gesturing toward the stairs.
“Take care, my lady.”
Nodding, I climbed toward Claude’s bedroom, thinking it was perfect timing to speak with the physician.
As I reached the door, a crash echoed from inside.
“Get out! Didn’t you hear me?” Claude’s voice roared.
“I-I’m sorry, Your Highness,” the physician stammered, clearly terrified.
The door flew open, and the physician stumbled into the corridor.
“Doctor, what happened?”
“Well… His Highness is in a foul mood…”
“Is his pain worse?”
“No, the pain’s improved, but he’s been irritable since running out of medicine. I noticed some spots on his body and tried to examine them, but he threw a vial at me…”
The physician stared at the floor, dejected.
“I gave him a week’s worth of medicine last time, and it’s gone already?”
“He was so agitated, I… prescribed double the dose.”
“So he took a week’s worth of Lazeraan in three days?”
The physician nodded, trembling, his eyes darting nervously, clearly shaken by Claude’s outburst.
Is this drug addiction or what? I told him one vial a day, but he never listens.
Sighing deeply, I fixed my gaze on the door.
“I’ll go in.”
“His Highness despises showing his body to others. Even I, his long-time physician, face this. Are you sure?”
“If we miss the treatment window, it’ll get worse. I have medicine to ease side effects, and if it gets bad, I’ll run. Don’t worry.”
Smiling reassuringly, I eased his reluctance, and he turned away, glancing back with concern.
Just how bad is it to make the physician act like this?
Tensing, I took a deep breath and opened the door.
Claude, sprawled almost lying on the sofa, tilted his head arrogantly.
He radiated the aura of a languid leopard.
His icy gaze pierced me.
“I’m not in the mood for treatment today. Leave the medicine and go.”
His breath was ragged, his eyes brimming with irritability.
In the heavy silence, I steadied my breathing.
“I heard spots appeared on your body. If we miss this chance, they could spread uncontrollably. You must get treated.”
Claude’s brow furrowed sharply.
As his expression darkened, my heart sank with it.
But retreating now would mean his illness could never be cured.
I traced his skin through the loosely tied nightgown, mustering courage.
“Your Highness, may I ask you to remove your robe?”
“What?”
He let out a scoff, glaring at me.
Striding toward me, he stopped close, his imposing frame looming.
My shoulders shrank under his intimidating presence as he tilted his head down.
His red eyes bore into me chillingly.
“Are you daring to order me?”
“Of course not. I’m obligated to treat you as per our agreement. Please don’t misunderstand.”
My gentle, coaxing tone made him snort.
“A female apothecary unfazed by a man’s bare body? Or are you actually playing the fiancée?”
“I’m just an apothecary. Seeing your body doesn’t faze me. Do you see me as a woman? Is that why you’re embarrassed to disrobe?”
Answering calmly, I saw his lips twist into a smirk after a moment’s pause.
“If that’s your stance, go ahead and try.”
Claude tossed off his half-open nightgown.
Broad, perfectly squared shoulders and a chiseled, triangular torso were revealed.
His broad back bore long scars, as if from a whipping.
There were rumors that the Emperor disciplined him harshly after the late Empress’s death—could these be from that?
Lost in thought, Claude tilted his head, and our eyes met, sharp as a blade.
I quickly composed my expression and focused on examining his skin.
Blue splotches, like splattered paint, dotted his sculpted abs, rising and falling with each breath.
Setting down my bag, I pulled out a green ointment jar.
“This ointment will clear the spots quickly. To prevent recurrence, please stick to the prescribed dose and avoid overmedicating.”
Explaining calmly, I stepped closer with the ointment.
His height made it impossible to reach, even on tiptoes.
Noting the spots spreading from his abs to his chest and shoulders, I said, “I’ll apply the ointment now. Please sit on the sofa, Your Highness.”
He sat with an arrogant expression, as if daring me to try.
Scooping a generous amount of ointment onto my finger, I touched his bare skin.
He flinched slightly, one eyebrow twitching as the cold ointment met his abs.
Cautiously, I began spreading it.
His skin felt firm and taut, like stone.
I carefully applied the ointment from his lower abs, gliding up toward his navel.
The smooth, marble-like skin glistened under the slick ointment.
Scooping more, my finger reached his chiseled pecs, hard as twin boulders.
The grooves of his abdomen were sharply defined, as if water could flow perfectly through them.
They said he never let go of his sword despite his weak heart, and his physique was flawless, like a statue.
As I diligently applied the ointment, I suddenly felt a prickling gaze on the top of my head.
