Chapter 44

“I’ll go get my father’s clothes.”

Hermia thought that the overly alluring silk gown was the problem and stood up.

The thick and sturdy chest was too pronounced, and in contrast to the robust upper body, his waist was elegantly slender.

That’s why it was even more confusing.

As she searched for the largest size shirt in the wardrobe, she gloomily thought that changing would be better.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for her to realize that this was a huge mistake.

While the soufflé was browning nicely in the pan, Walter, who had taken the shirt, didn’t come out of the pantry for a long time.

“Are you done yet? It’ ready.”

She turned off the heat and opened the lid to check on the plump pancakes. The aroma alone made her anxious to taste them.

Just as she carefully placed the cake on a lace-patterned plate and finished preparing freshly brewed black tea, the pantry door slid open.

“Quickly while it’s warm… Oh my god.”

Hermia’s eyes widened in surprise as she turned around. She had secretly hoped it wouldn’t be too big, but this was far beyond her expectations.

It was as if her father’s shirt, which had fluttered like a blouse when he wore it, had suddenly become child-sized.

The Duke, who had exuded sensuality in his shower robe, now looked indecent in Count Arnold’s shirt.

The buttons fastened at his waist became increasingly tight as they went up, leaving the area above his chest unbuttoned. His shoulders were already stretched to their limits. If he swung his arms wrong, it would surely tear apart.

In short, the shirt seemed to be screaming for help. Even Walter, who was used to wearing stiff uniforms, showed signs of discomfort in such a clingy outfit.

“I should either buy a new one or just wear the gown.”

“Send someone to buy them later and let’s eat first. It’s warm… quickly…”

Hermia mumbled while keeping her gaze fixed on his bulging chest. Feeling her subtle insistence in her tone, he reluctantly set down the gown he was holding.

The two headed toward the dining room with a trolley loaded with soufflé dishes, tea sets, leftover scones, and some fruits.

Walter felt his back burning throughout as he pushed the cart. He was incredibly relieved that none of his subordinates saw him in such a ridiculous outfit with pajama pants and an almost bursting shirt.

Although it was embarrassing to be watched by Hermia’s intense gaze, he could endure it. He felt fortunate that he could draw her attention like this.

He briefly considered whether to have his clothes fitted with slightly smaller measurements next time.

Since there were no servants to clear away empty plates or serve food in order, they placed all the food they brought onto the table at once.

Hermia, knowing how meticulous Walter was as a member of the upper class, decided to set some boundaries in advance.

“Your Grace, if your teacup is empty, I won’t refill it. If you drop your fork, I won’t pick it up either. I’m not a servant.”

As she glanced at him for a reaction, Walter nodded calmly.

“Very well. In return, if Miss Hermia’s teacup is empty, I will refill it for you, and if you drop your cutlery, I will bring you new ones. The demands will be fair on both sides.”

“That seems… very fair.”

After saying that and finding it somewhat amusing, Hermia laughed lightly, causing Walter to chuckle along. Once again, his eyes sparkled.

“Wow. This is soufflé. It’s so delicious.”

She intentionally diverted her gaze and took a big spoonful of the thick cake into her mouth. The soufflé Walter made tasted like clouds from heaven.

Walter couldn’t take his eyes off Hermia as she puffed her cheeks like a squirrel while chewing. She ate eagerly while he quietly watched her.

“Why aren’t you eating? It’s soft and sweet.”

Feeling his gaze on her, Hermia looked at Walter’s untouched plate and asked.

It seemed sweet even without him tasting it. She swallowed hard while suppressing her embarrassment over such an awkward remark as he picked up his cutlery.

“It’s delicious.”

“You haven’t eaten yet.”

“Oh.”

Light flooded through the large window and brightly illuminated the table. Perhaps sunlight seeped into the woman’s laughter as well.

Having breakfast alone with a woman he liked felt more splendid and luxurious than any banquet. At some point, he stopped eating while thinking that even after marriage, having such moments wouldn’t be bad.

In an empty place—just Hermia and him—he suddenly felt an ominous sensation rising to the surface when both conditions were met.

The symptoms were always the same.

At first, his heart would flutter before gradually becoming short of breath…

Walter fiddled with his chest. There was a slight fluttering feeling but thankfully no abnormality in his breathing.

They had been alone together for quite some time now; so it should be okay. Probably.

“But by any chance…”

After finishing her soufflé and rolling grapes around in her hand, Hermia asked,

“Did anything… strange happen last night?”

“You mean this morning?”

“Yes. Did you see any ghost resembling someone… or hear any strange noises…?”

When Walter looked at her with a puzzled expression, Hermia shook her head.

“If you haven’t seen anything yet then never mind. You probably wouldn’t believe me anyway.”

After throwing out an incomprehensible question, Hermia ate a couple more grapes before swallowing hard again. There must be seeds in them.

“Are you alright, Your Grace?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…”

Just as she was about to continue speaking, loud hammering sounds echoed from outside the door. It seemed like workers had begun their repairs on the house in earnest.

With shouts of “Hold that right there! No! A little more to the left!” along with more banging noises that reached all the way into the dining room,

“Ugh. So noisy. Just a moment.”

Frowning at the noise, Hermia abruptly stood up and walked briskly toward the sound.

Walter stood there momentarily dazed before hearing a loud click as the door closed behind her. He thought it sounded unusually loud while simultaneously feeling an intensifying fluttering in his chest.

An ominous sensation.

He looked at Hermia with a confused expression as that unusual sensation returned. She walked back, her footsteps echoing in the quiet room, and continued speaking.

“You know, the curse. The author said he would cast a curse on all of us.”

“There’s no such thing.”

Walter firmly denied the ominous thought, but despite his will, sweat was already forming on his forehead.

There’s no way that could be true. It’s ridiculous. A curse?

In this radical age where great discoveries and amazing inventions are announced almost daily, such absurd warnings couldn’t possibly be real.

It must just be a childish threat from an author who writes fiction. A silly superstition like a lucky coin or tying shoelaces to avoid bad luck.

While he stubbornly denied and turned away from it, his body was steadily becoming strange.

His vision blurred, and his breathing became labored. It was at a level that even strong mental fortitude couldn’t overcome.

Walter began to helplessly get caught up in the curse he had dismissed as a childish superstition.

“Ha…”

“Your Grace?”

Hermia stepped a little closer as his breathing grew rough.

“You’re doing it again. Are you sick somewhere? What’s wrong this time?”

How had he dealt with this situation before? How did the symptoms disappear? Even in his hazy state, he desperately tried to remember.

“Move aside! I want to join too; I can’t miss such an entertaining show.”

The military carriage. When the first symptoms appeared, he had sunk down immediately after seeing Gerald’s face through the tent.

Gerald. Should he be here? That’s impossible right now.

The second symptoms had appeared in his private study. The person who opened the door was not Gerald but Emily. Similarly, he regained his composure right after seeing her.

He quickly came to a conclusion with exceptional judgment.

The answer was not a specific person but “another person.” To break out of this situation, he literally needed someone else’s intervention.

Finding a solution was fortunate, but it was unfortunate that he couldn’t act on it while thinking. His body was already refusing to move as he wished.

As even touching his forehead became difficult, Walter barely managed to speak.

“I’m sorry, but could you please call someone else? Anyone will do. I’m…”

He couldn’t bring himself to say that he was desperately suppressing something rising from within him.

“Um, if you’re in pain, you should go back now. Don’t collapse in someone else’s house.”

Hermia, flustered, hurried over but Walter barely registered her presence.

“What should I do? Are your men still outside? I can’t whistle. Should I call those old men?”

Her clear voice sounded like a distant echo.

“I’m sorry. I can’t hold on…”

Just as he spoke those words, Walter lost his reason and self-control.

“…”

The dining room fell silent for a moment.

Hermia, who had turned to leave, sensed something strange and slowly turned her head back. Walter, who looked like he would collapse on the floor any moment, suddenly stood up from his chair.

Had he already recovered?

“Your Grace?”

“…H”

He whispered softly while facing her. Unable to hear well, Hermia leaned in closer to listen.

“What? What did you say?”

“Ha… Honey!”

Suddenly, Walter pulled her waist tightly into an embrace. The sound of fabric tearing sharply pierced her ears from somewhere.

“Gah!”

She was so startled and squeezed so tightly that she struggled to breathe. Hermia patted Walter’s back frantically.

“I can’t breathe! I can’t breathe! Your Grace, hey!”

At her words about not being able to breathe, the strength in his arms loosened slightly. Thankfully, the pressure lessened, but the mental shock hit her hard afterward.

“My love…”

What? What did I just hear?

Rubbing his cheek against the top of her head, Walter kept mumbling nonsensically.

“Hermia… Ha. Hermia. I love you…”

“Are you crazy?! Let go of me!”

Desperately lifting her head, Hermia froze with her arms raised in the air. Walter’s dazed face was pressed right into her eyes.

There couldn’t have been alcohol in the tea; why is he suddenly acting like this…? Just as she thought that, a lightning bolt struck in her mind.

She grabbed Walter by the collar.

“This… This is the curse, isn’t it? This is your curse!”

“You’re wrong. It’s a blessing.”

Smooch.

A short, crisp sound accompanied the sensation of something soft brushing her forehead. Hermia shuddered as if struck by lightning.

“It is a curse! You jerk!”