Fay entered the room, pushing a trolley with lunch laid out neatly. She found the young lady on the bed, leaning against the headress.
"My lady, Mrs. Reinel already sent a letter to the marquis. Told him your fever won't go away. Don't worry," Fay said.
"I'm sorry, Fay." The words slipped out before she could stop them.
Fay blinked. "For what, my lady?"
Nyasia smiled, faint and sad, remembering Fayʼs death. "For making you worry."
"Draw the curtains later," she added.
"But sunlight is your enemy," Fay muttered, glancing at the lady whose great beauty had been trapped within the Paragon Hall by poor health.
"It won't kill me," Nyasia replied, pulling down the quilt and rising.
Then she moved to the trolley and lifted the cup without a word. Fay gasped as Nyasia poured the tea into a flower pot on the side table. A minute later, half of the leaves turned yellow. Some had turned black.
Fayʼs hand went over her mouth.
"This is... "
"With the plant dying so fast, this isn't medicine at all," Nyasia said.
"But you've been taking that tea for three days! You must tell the lord and the young master!" Fay's voice carried both exasperation and rebuke.
Nyasia said nothing.
Her illness was about sunlight weakening her body, yes. But not enough to keep her bedridden. Rian once tried to prove it by bringing her to the garden. Nothing happened. Her heart only palpitated.
Poison.
'The only explanation', she thought. She had always been sickly. If there was poison, this was hard to notice.
But...
The problem with her dream was that she didn't know everything—only a few flashes of scenes and the ones she could see from the sky.
"Why do you hesitate?" Fay said.
'If the lady was truly poisoned, then this person was bold enough to do this against the Rashet Clan!'
The lady was the heiress of one of the most powerful clans in the entire Tenusa Empire.
'And someone dared...'
Nyasia turned to walk toward the windows.
"My lady, Madam Nox—" Fay didn't finish.
"Aunt?"
Nyasia took a brief sideways glance.
Fay's eyes trembled.
She turned to Fay, who met her gaze with quiet solemnity.
"Just a feeling, my lady," Fay whispered.
"I—be careful. You must never allow anyone to step on you." Her tone was firm, defiant. "You are the precious heiress. The marquis' beloved daughter and the young master's sister. B—But some people might take your place."
Nyasia's lips curved.
"If I were truly beloved, no one could take my place. But that's not what I want." She looked away, turning her gaze to the orchid gardens. "I just wonder—does it exist? Being so loved that someone would kill for you?"
"That sounds terrible, don't you think?"
'So even Fay found it terrible, huh,' Nyasia thought.
Back then, she had always believed Rian was just being good to her, because he was Levon's friend at the Academy. And even though he may have said things he shouldn't, she never believed he could abandon everything for a sickly girl like her.
He was, after all, an heir of the most important clan next to the imperial family.
And yet... he couldn't accept her death.
'Did her death trigger the monster?'
'Or has it always been there?'
"This pot will die before the day ends," she said finally. "Hide it somewhere here. Give it to Brother soon."
Fay nodded and carried the pot away.
"Pick a few herbs at the courtyard garden," Nyasia added.
She needed to detox.
"Yes—oh." Fay paused, remembering something "The young master comes home tomorrow."
Nyasia's eyes fluttered.
"Brother's coming?"
In her dream, he was supposed to arrive tomorrow.
The day she died.
He came late, of course.
"Yes," Fay replied. "And His Grace also comes."
Nyasia's heart stopped.
Her gaze turned to the terrace.
'His Grace.'
Dorian Alexei Varyn.
It was painfully harder to call him Rian now.
*