009
Ricardo recalled how seamlessly Evelon and Melaria had worked together to suggest sending him to the countryside to recuperate—and his thoughts drifted to the times they’d unrelentingly criticized Izuli.
“Is this what people these days call ‘gaslighting’?”
“Pardon? Ah, yes.”
“You seem used to it.”
Even at his odd question, Izuli bowed her head quietly. Though her expression was hidden, her retreating steps and hunched shoulders made it clear this wasn’t the first time.
“We’ve been married for five years, so I’ve been dealing with it for five years too. I got used to it a long time ago.”
She wore a faint smile, but it was far from genuine—it was the withered smile of someone too exhausted to even muster the strength to resist.
“Don’t worry about me. I’ve endured it well for five years, so I’ll be fine going forward. You just need to help make sure the child I choose becomes heir.”
That wasn’t what he’d meant. Ricardo was about to explain, but Izuli changed the subject.
“Ah—so you don’t have any of Kalyon’s memories at all?”
“Not memories, but there are habits ingrained in the body. Like feeling annoyed the moment I see Evelon and Melaria, or finding you familiar.”
“Then that’s a bit of a problem. Can you… act like Kalyon?”
At his sharp glare, Izuli laughed awkwardly.
“Are you asking me to play the fool?”
“W-well, we can’t just say he suddenly came to his senses! What if someone notices he’s possessed?”
After a moment’s thought, Ricardo spoke calmly:
“Why not?”
“Pardon?”
“Say he survived a life-threatening crisis and finally came to his senses. That works, doesn’t it? There’s no reason it wouldn’t.”
As Izuli mulled this over, her eyes gradually widened.
“Does it?”
This had actually been her first thought when she noticed how different he was—wondering if he’d truly come to his senses. The more she considered it, the more it made sense, and their faces slowly brightened as they looked at each other. Ricardo was glad he wouldn’t have to play the fool, and Izuli was relieved to have found a simple solution.
“What if we say only some of his memories are gone? If we claim all of them are lost, the Dowager might try to pretend his past mistakes never happened.”
“Good. I don’t care about anything else as long as I don’t have to act stupid.”
“Then you’re good at other kinds of acting?”
Ricardo raised an eyebrow, looking at Izuli’s inexplicably mischievous expression.
“Even though we’ve only known each other less than a day—shall we try to get in sync quickly?”
Ricardo narrowed his eyes, then nodded.
—
After Izuli left, Evelon ate her usual overly lavish meal.
“Tsk—Auntie, we need to replace the head chef. The food keeps getting worse.”
Melaria set down her utensils roughly, speaking irritably. The chef’s skills hadn’t changed, but the quality of ingredients had dropped due to budget cuts—there was no helping it. Evelon agreed with her.
“You’re right. Replacing the chef is probably….”
“D-Dowager!”
Just then, a maid rushed into the dining room.
“What’s all this commotion?”
“I—it’s the Marquis! His fever is back! It’s extremely high—we found him too late, and he’s unconscious!”
The two women looked at each other. They barely managed to smooth their expressions before smiles could spread across their faces.
“Auntie, we can’t look too happy. Understand?”
“Of course—that’s what I was going to say.”
They climbed slowly to the fourth floor, only pretending to rush and pant once they neared the room. Inside, the physician was examining him with a grave expression. Ricardo’s face was pale, and ragged breaths escaped his lifeless lips.
“My boy! What on earth happened? How did he end up like this when he was fine just yesterday?”
“Dowager, I hate to say this… but it may be too late. His fever is dangerously high and won’t break! It seems he was left unattended for hours while suffering from it.”
He clicked his tongue and added:
“How could you leave a patient who hasn’t fully recovered completely alone? I clearly told you to be careful for several days!”
In any other noble household, a close servant would have been assigned to care for him. But most of the marquisate’s few servants were posted on the second floor, where Evelon and Melaria stayed, and rarely came up to the fourth floor. Besides, Izuli had left early that morning for her morning respects—he’d clearly developed a high fever during that time alone.
The physician was a friend of one of the retainers, hired as the household doctor for his decent skills. For him to speak like this meant there was truly no hope.
“That fool is really going to die? Then… isn’t this great?”
The unexpected stroke of luck left her dizzy. Evelon’s gaze fell on Ricardo—he looked as if he’d breathe his last at any moment, death seeming certain. She almost smiled, but Janna tugged at her sleeve, bringing her to her senses.
As Janna had warned, everyone’s attention was on the marquis, who’d miraculously survived before. If word got out she was happy to hear he might die, it would be disastrous.
“How could this happen…!”
Struggling to suppress her joy, Evelon glared at Izuli, who was wiping away tears by the bed.
“I explicitly entrusted Kalyon to you! How did he go from fine yesterday to this?”
Izuli’s shoulders trembled as tears welled in her eyes.
“M-Mother, I told the nanny about this yesterday. But all the other servants were busy, so I couldn’t find anyone to tend to him—and I couldn’t be disrespectful to you by skipping my duties….”
“You fool!”
Evelon pressed her thumb hard against Izuli’s forehead.
“Can’t you think beyond one thing? Did you really plan to leave a sick man alone?”
“But you said honoring you was more important than anything….”
“Now you’re looking me in the eye and talking back? And you dare to implicate the nanny?”
Janna frowned and bowed her head.
“Dowager, the lady is telling the truth. It was my fault.”
“Fine, just fine! If you can get the better of the nanny today, tomorrow you’ll be trying to devour me! Not content with killing my husband, you want to kill me too!”
The physician frowned at her raised voice.
“Dowager, that’s enough! The most important thing now is to keep the Marquis as comfortable as possible!”
Good physicians who worked for low pay were rare, so Evelon fell silent at once. Now that she’d shifted the blame to Izuli, it was time to pretend to grieve.
“Oh my boy! He came back to life like a miracle, and now he’ll die because of that wretch!”
Evelon collapsed to the floor, sobbing loudly, and Janna supported her. Melaria patted her back.
“Auntie, you’ll make yourself sick like this. Let the Marchioness stay and watch over him—you need to calm down.”
“Right, you’re right.”
As if waiting for the cue, Evelon took Melaria’s hand and left the room. The physician let out a heavy sigh and spoke to Izuli:
“My lady, if the Marquis can hold on, there’s still a small chance—not much, but it exists. For now… your presence by his side will give him strength.”
While not one of the empire’s top physicians, he was competent—and he knew Ricardo wouldn’t survive. It was a miracle he’d lasted this long with such a high fever. But he couldn’t tell the only person truly grieving, so he left with those words.
Once the door closed, Izuli casually wiped her tears and approached the bed.
“They’re all gone.”
At the same time, Ricardo’s eyes snapped open.
“How on earth did you fool the physician?”
The physician was connected to Baron Piace, one of the retainers struggling to keep the marquisate afloat under Evelon’s thumb. He worked only for the household and pitied Izuli, but he wouldn’t have gone along with Ricardo’s act if he’d known.
“He couldn’t help but believe it—my fever is real.”
When they’d first planned this, Ricardo had said he could make himself ill. Izuli hadn’t pressed for details, and when she’d waited outside and then returned, his body really was burning hot.
