Please Don’t Die, My Lady

Chapter 7: Fever

My body feels like it’s on fire.

The heat swirls around my forehead as if it’s burning through my mind, yet I also feel a chill, as if I’ve stepped outside naked in the middle of winter.

Even in this hazy state, I instinctively burrow deeper into the blanket, searching for warmth.

Why does it feel so cold when my body is unbearably hot?

The chills cut deep into my bones, refusing to fade even as I curl up under the covers.

I bend my knees, pressing them against my chest, and wrap my arms around them, assuming a fetal position as I shiver uncontrollably.

The annoying part is that each tremor brings with it the aching joint pain unique to the flu.

In my case, it feels like my body is breaking down, with not just the joints but the bones themselves throbbing in pain.

And then there’s the other pain—injuries scattered all over my body, untreated and unaddressed.

For instance, the wound on my forehead, which hasn’t stopped bleeding, must be deeper than I thought.

My left ankle, swollen since this morning, worsened after it twisted on the stairs. 

Now, it’s so tender that even the slightest touch feels unbearable.

Maybe this time, it’s really broken.

How am I supposed to walk now?

Should I crawl around like before?

What a sight that would be.

Cough! “…My throat hurts.”

I’m thirsty.

I want a sip of warm water.

But, of course, I can’t even lift a finger, let alone get up to fetch it.

In short, it’s an absolute disaster.

My body has gone on strike just two days after transferring to the academy.

So I missed the afternoon classes after all.

Leaving without saying anything—it might turn into a bigger problem than I expected.

To be absent without notice from the second day… I might be marked as trouble.

Even in the midst of this misery, I couldn’t help but let out a wry laugh at the thought.

Worrying about my reputation in a situation like this—how absurd.

It’s not like I had a reputation to begin with; it’s just nonexistent.

What I should seriously be worried about is the possibility of dying alone in the middle of the night, without anyone to care for me.

Ah, but that might not be so bad.

A hollow laugh escaped my lips again.

Maybe it’s the fever talking, but I felt oddly giddy, as if the heat were lifting my spirits.

For some reason, the worries that had plagued me before now seemed trivial.

Honestly, they are.

Why let myself be bothered by the petty bullying of classmates?

I could just hole up in my room forever.

My second home.

The one place in this world that’s entirely mine.

My beautiful, cozy sanctuary.

Here, whether it’s Ariana or even her grandmother coming to threaten me, this place will protect me.

An unbroken truth since the heavens parted from the earth—this is an unassailable fact.

Q.E.D. Proven. Problem solved. I’m happy now.

…Wait?

Even if I can get water from the bathroom, what about food?

Well, if I get hungry, I’ll just gnaw on the pillars or something.

“Pfft, ha… haah….”

This time, I laughed a little louder, only to wince as my head throbbed in protest.

The burst of euphoria subsided slightly.

I’m being ridiculous.

Once my mind settled, I fully realized just how out of it I was.

Still, staying locked up might actually be a good idea.

It’s not like I came here with any real intention of graduating, so what’s the big deal?

…Am I serious?

Do I really want to earn a reputation as the “reclusive duchess”?

I care so much about my image, yet I’m desperate to find an escape. Which is it?

Ah, maybe this was “me” wanting it.

Could be.

I don’t know anymore.

Maybe it’s the fever, or maybe it’s the way I’m starting to blend together—but I was oddly confused.

What’s “you,” and what’s “me”?

If I’m in pain, I should just sleep.

No point wasting energy on strange thoughts.

I closed my eyes tightly and tried to empty my mind.

My whole body sank deeper and deeper into the mattress.

I dreamed.

It was the same dream I always had when escaping reality.

A dream so familiar I was sick of it.

In the dream, I was on my way home from work.

I hailed a carriage, despite my usual effort to save on transportation costs by walking.

But today, I just wanted to get home quickly.

When I arrived at my apartment and opened the door, I was greeted by a sight of antique furniture, ornate chandeliers, and wallpaper embroidered with gold thread.

It felt vaguely nostalgic but still undeniably like home.

I felt at ease.

Knowing I was back, my family came to greet me.

My kind father, Eamond Adelian.

My beautiful mother, Reina Adelian.

They both embraced me warmly.

Their arms were so comforting.

My playful brothers waved at me enthusiastically.

Not just my family but also my dear friends approached me.

There was Raymond, the smug but good-looking acolyte.

Christina, the neighbor’s daughter, with whom I always bickered but trusted deeply.

And Ariana, my loyal follower and constant companion.

They were few in number, but each was an irreplaceable piece of my life.

Today, even Hans, my childhood friend and secret crush, was there.

It turned out it was my birthday.

Hans grabbed my wrist, flashing a bright smile as he led me.

I couldn’t help but notice the contrast between his large hand and my slender wrist, drawing my attention again and again.

My face felt hot, probably because it had been so long since I’d last seen him.

He led me to a table adorned with a cream cake, seaweed soup, and other birthday dishes.

Everyone wore familiar party hats and celebrated with me.

My chest felt tight, and tears welled up.

It was embarrassing for a grown man to cry, but I couldn’t hold it back.

Hans, watching me, smiled warmly and placed something on my hair.

I stared at him blankly, and he whispered that it was a gift and wished me a happy birthday again.

I felt like I might burst.

I was burning up.

My mother handed me a hand mirror, saying it looked good on me.

I took it absentmindedly and looked at my reflection.

Snow-white hair, eyes close to silver.

Skin so pale it seemed almost translucent.

From head to toe, a pure white girl was staring back at me.

On her hair gleamed an ornament made of white jewels that suited her perfectly.

The duchess was smiling.

Tears shimmered in her eyes, yet her expression radiated pure happiness.

It was such an unfamiliar look that I couldn’t recall ever seeing that expression on her face before.

The déjà vu I had been feeling grew stronger.

Is this how I originally looked?

No, is this even my memory in the first place?

I erased all emotion from my face.

The duchess in the mirror, however, kept smiling.

That isn’t me.

Then where am I?

Where is “I”?

As I pondered that thought, I looked around compulsively, only to find that everything around me had vanished.

All the joyous scenery that had surrounded me dissolved into nothing but a blindingly white space, leaving only the mirror reflecting the duchess’ face.

The lips of the duchess in the mirror moved.

“Gone. Nowhere. Anymore.”

The duchess outside the mirror responded.

“I knew it.”

***

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The intermittent sound of knocking woke me from the dream.

“Ugh…”

A headache slammed into me like a hammer, and I let out a groan as I twisted in pain.

My head felt foggy, as though something was clouding it.

The fever hadn’t gone down much, apparently.

I glanced out the window and saw that it was still evening, the same time as when I had fallen asleep.

Had I only slept briefly? Or had I slept the entire day? It had to be one of the two.

Judging by my terrible condition, it was probably the former.

Not that I had taken any medicine or received treatment, so it wouldn’t be surprising if things had worsened.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

The knocking persisted, indifferent to my groans of pain.

It wasn’t a hurried or forceful pounding.

Rather, it was a gentle, almost cautious sound, as if the knocker didn’t want to disturb the person inside.

They’d been knocking for quite a while—why hadn’t they left yet?

I listened to the sound for a while before pushing myself up.

Blood rushed to my head, bringing a wave of dizziness.

I was used to it by now.

As I tried to lower my feet off the bed, I remembered my utterly wrecked ankle.

After some deliberation, I dropped to my knees and crawled on all fours.

It wasn’t a dignified sight.

Most people would probably look at me with pity.

If it were Ariana, she’d laugh.

Honestly, I wanted to ignore the knocking and go back to sleep. But I didn’t want to give the impression that something terrible had happened inside, so I decided to say something brief and send them away.

Whether they’d actually listen to me was another matter.

I hooked my arm around the doorknob and used all my strength to pull myself up.

After a lengthy struggle, I managed to balance on one leg.

Alright, let’s see who’s there.

“…Hello. Are you feeling alright?”

The moment I opened the door, I had the sudden urge to shut it again without a word.

The person knocking was a girl with long black hair, eyes like the night sky, and delicate, symmetrical features. She was similar in build to me and held a thick folder tightly against her chest.

Her appearance was vaguely familiar, albeit hazy in my memory.

It was the girl I’d met on the stairs earlier.

You’ve got to be kidding me.