Miss, It’s Just a Cold

Chapter 2: Home (2)

I walked down the hallway, which hadn’t had its wooden planks replaced once since I was born.

Each step brought the familiar creak of aging wood.

A bit of regular oiling and maintenance could easily eliminate the noise, but such tasks required servants with more specialized skills—ones far more expensive than the laundry or cleaning staff.

This household would never spend money on something so “frivolous.”

After all, even I am scolded for the cost of merely existing here.

The truth is, just selling one of the jewels on that gaudy necklace Mother wears could fix these floorboards in an instant.

But that would be sacrilege.

Vanity and pride as a noble are the very essence of their existence.

Carefully descending the wooden stairs, I reached the first floor and stood outside Ellie’s room. Taking a deep breath, I prepared myself.

I am a kind, gentle, and loving older sister.

I repeated this mantra three times in my head.

The truth is, I find myself wanting to sneer every time I see her sweet little face.

Knocking on the door, I called out, “Can I come in?”

Knocking and asking permission—it’s the right thing to do.

Especially when it’s someone else’s room.

But why, then, is this kind of courtesy never extended to me?

Why does no one respect my boundaries?

I respect everyone else’s.

Somehow, my kindness and goodwill had become something they expected, almost demanded, as if it was their right.

And if I withheld it, they acted as if I had stolen something from them.

“Come in, sister!”

With her cheerful reply, I opened the door and stepped inside.

Ellie was at her desk, diligently copying notes and underlining passages in her notebook.

I had no idea what the subject matter was.

Unlike Ellie, I’d never had a private tutor or attended school.

If she was just going to call me here to study, why even summon me in the first place?

“Studying has been so hard lately,” Ellie complained. “It’s exhausting going to school every day when I’m sick, and the teacher keeps giving us so much homework!”

I didn’t quite get it.

I knew Ellie was born frail, but I didn’t think her condition was so severe that attending school was truly difficult.

She got out of breath after a little running or felt dizzy now and then, sure.

But Mother fussed over her as if she had some terminal illness.

If she were truly so concerned, she could just shove Ellie into a hospital and throw money at it until she was cured.

Ellie seemed to have internalized all the coddling. Hearing “you’re sick” every day probably made her genuinely believe it.

But I didn’t say any of this aloud.

“…That sounds tough,” I said instead.

“You’re so cold, sister,” Ellie murmured, her tone deflated. “Even when I tell you I’m sick, you just go, ‘Oh, is that so?’ and leave it at that.”

Then she hesitated, her voice becoming tentative. “Do you… not like me? Should I try harder to be better?”

“No! It’s not like that!” I protested, practically shouting. “I just… don’t know what to say, that’s all…”

I denied it fervently.

After all, if Mother heard this, I’d be labeled the trash of the family again. She’d ensure I learned firsthand what treatment trash deserved.

Ellie giggled. “Hehe, I was just teasing.”

She flashed a bright smile and let it go.

I clenched my right fist tightly.

If I relaxed even a little, I feared I might slap her.

But I couldn’t risk it—not unless I wanted to go hungry for three days.

“By the way, sister, can I ask a favor?”

I nodded.

It wasn’t a favor; it was an order.

“Could you deliver this letter to Ernst for me? I’d do it myself, but it’s just too embarrassing…”

Ellie rummaged through the bag by her bed and handed me a letter.

I took it and forced a smile.

Ernst was the boy next door, the same age as me.

He was likely the male lead of this story. He certainly had a handsome face for it.

The novel had gone to great lengths to describe his looks, but I’d skimmed over most of it. I didn’t care much for descriptions of male characters.

It wasn’t until I heard his name and connected it to my surroundings that I realized he was the Ernst from the novel.

Letter in hand, I left the room, gently closing the door behind me.

I crouched down just outside, pressing a hand to my face. Then I stood and checked my expression in the mirror near the front door.

Satisfied, I grabbed my shoes.

As I was about to step outside, Daniel caught me. Somehow, he was already on the first floor.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Ellie wants me to deliver a letter.”

“To him?”

“Yes, to him.”

Thankfully, the neighbor’s house wasn’t far.

At least I didn’t have to walk a long way. But even with the short distance, errands like these always left a bitter taste in my mouth.

If only it were farther, I thought, I’d have a proper reason to hand it off to someone whose job it was to deliver letters. What were they called again?

A Postman, Perhaps.

Or maybe not. Knowing this household, they might’ve sent me to the post office instead of hiring someone else.

I stepped outside, onto the street lined with countless grand mansions.

Without sparing a glance around, I headed directly next door.

Ernst’s house was at least three times larger than the one I lived in.

As I approached, the servants stationed at the gate greeted me and opened it without question.

They recognized me immediately, likely thinking of me as “the noble young lady who’s close to the young master.”

Though honestly, the servants here were probably treated far better than I was at home.

Once inside the gates, I made my way forward, where a square-bearded butler awaited.

“Have you come to see the young master?”

“Yes, I have a letter to deliver to him.”

“Ah, I see. At this rate, the pile of letters will grow into the thousands.” He chuckled. “Would you like to wait in the drawing room, or shall I escort you to his room directly?”

From the way he spoke, one might think we were a couple.

My mother always dreamed of marrying me off to Ernst.

With our shared history and proximity, she probably assumed we’d naturally like each other.

And, more importantly, because Ernst’s family had money.

Ellie, however, found the idea infuriating.

To her, Ernst, handsome and charming, was hers by right, and she couldn’t understand why anyone would try to pair him with her “unworthy” older sister.

Everyone was jumping to conclusions.

As if Ernst could fall for anyone in this neighborhood.

If he were to fall for someone, it would have to be someone truly remarkable—a blonde with piercing blue eyes, exuding charm, unshaken even in the presence of powerful men, and more beautiful than anyone around.

Their meeting would have to be romantic, too. Perhaps a chance encounter at a ball, a stolen moment in the garden.

That’s the heroine’s story.

I had picked up the book because the cover looked pretty. Who could’ve guessed it would lead to this?

“I’ll go to his room,” I said.

The butler nodded.

I ascended the stairs—silent, no creaking wood underfoot here—and approached the door on the left. It was a large room.

Knocking, I called out, “It’s me. Open up.”

There was no response, so I slipped the letter under the door.

Just as I was turning to leave, the door opened.

“Where are you going?”

“Home.”

“You came all this way, though?”

“All this way? It’s literally next door.”

“Who’s the letter from this time? One of those ladies you have tea with?”

“Ellie. Our adorable little sister.”

“Hmm. I’m not particularly interested in someone three years younger than me.”

Ernst, dressed in a simple shirt and tailored trousers, grabbed my arm and pulled me into the room.

The space was as massive as ever—a large bed, a wardrobe, and even a private bathroom. Despite all this, the room didn’t feel cramped at all.

It was easily twenty times the size of my own room.

“Since you’re here, why don’t you stay and chat for a bit?”

“And do what? Climb trees like we used to?”

“That could be fun,” he said with a grin. “Remember when your mother got mad and dragged you off after catching us?”

“….”

“She was furious. I was so sure I’d get scolded too, but she treated me kindly instead.”

“Guess you charmed even my mother with that face of yours.”

As I brushed back the hair tickling my nose, Ernst suddenly grabbed my arm.

“Hey, there’s a bruise here.”

“I bumped into something.”

“What kind of idiot bumps into something and gets a bruise on the inside of their arm?”

“It’s just from bumping into something, alright?” I said, shoving him away.

The atmosphere grew awkward.

Not wanting to leave things like that, I changed the subject.

“So, tell me more about that girl you met at the ball. You know, the pretty one.”

“Turns out she goes to the same school as me,” he said, his tone lighting up.

“Sounds like she’s someone impressive.”

And so, he went on about her stellar grades, her resilience despite being a commoner, and her captivating presence.

I didn’t really get it. I’d never been to a school that taught swordsmanship and magic, much less one with nobles and commoners studying side by side.

Emily hadn’t, either.

After chatting idly for a while, I said my goodbyes and left the room.

Looking up at the sky, I saw it was clear, with only a few small clouds dotting the blue expanse.

For a moment, I let myself enjoy the sight before returning to the dreadful house I called home.

I began to understand why Emily might have loved Ernst.

Not because she truly loved him, but because being with him felt safe, peaceful—even happy.