As expected, a white veil separated the Archduchess and Cassiel.
'Right...they still think Glarot's contagious.'
His eyes flicked to the maids nearby, already taking off their gloves and masks.
'Looks like they just finished feeding her.'
He sighed inwardly. 'Whatever. I already know it's not contagious.'
"Greetings, Your Grace." He said politely, tugging at Viola's sleeve. "I came to visit you without notice, I apologize for that."
Viola set him down gently. Cassiel made his way over to the chair beside the bed, clearly meant for staff, and climbed up onto it with a small grunt.
"I don't mind." Came her voice from behind the veil. It was rough with fatigue, but there was warm beneath it. "In fact, I'm sorry I couldn't welcome you properly, child."
"Your Grace…" One of the older maids murmured, visibly tense at hearing her Lady apologize.
But the Archduchess merely lifted her hand. The shadow it cast through the veil was enough, every maid fell silent.
Cassiel exhaled. "No, I understand why you couldn't." Then, with a faint smile, "I'm not feeling that great myself, too."
"I heard. Don't hesitate to nag Rhydian if you need something," She said, and though her voice remained even, he could hear her amusement beneath it.
He shook his head. "There's nothing I need right now. I just want to get better."
He was speaking calmly, but his mind ran faster than his words. 'W-woah... this is the same woman who smacked the Archduke over the head? She sounds so gentle. Isn't she supposed to be colder than this with a stranger? I didn't even do anything for her...'
He scratched the back of his head. "Actually... I didn't know Her Grace was sick. When I found out, I came right away."
"You didn't need to trouble yourself." She said. "It's dangerous for your health."
A quiet moment followed.
Cassiel's gaze lowered. "No...I know what it's like, being sick, I mean." He slowly reached toward the veil.
"Young Master, don't—" Viola started, anxiety clearly in her voice.
"Viola." He looked up at her, steady. "I know what I'm doing. Please leave us. I wish to speak to Her Grace alone." He turned to the bed again. "Is that alright?"
There was a moment of hesitation from her, too. "As you wish," Honora said. "You may all go."
The maids lingered for a second before slowly filing out, the door clicking shut behind them.
"Child," Honora warned, "it's dangerous to touch me."
But he didn't stop.
Cassiel slid his small hand beneath the veil and gently took hers. The cold temperature of her skin shocked him, it bit through his palm like frost.
"The other day, I walked through a beautiful garden, Your Grace," he said softly. "It was full of color and smelled so nice..."
Her fingers were stiff. The texture beneath his touch wasn't quite skin anymore, it was harder and smoother. 'She's already crystallizing, huh...'
"Yes, that was when Rhydian named you, wasn't it?" Her voice had dropped to something quieter. "Did you see all of it?"
He nodded slowly. "I did. There was one part, though...a section where everything was dead. May I ask why?"
For a moment, she didn't answer. When she did, her tone was flatter. "That garden...is mine."
'Shoot. I figured, I remember something like that from the novel.'
"It withered because I used to feed it with my mana. That bond is what helped it bloom," she continued. "But I can't do that anymore."
In this world, flowers didn't need mana to survive, water alone would do.
But if you shared your mana with them, they'd grow from your very soul. They'd become yours, almost like familiars.
And hers were dying.
"I saw big brother there." He sighed softly. "He was trying to take care of it."
Honora let out a small laugh. It was hoarse, but genuine, her voice was also briefly lighter than before. "Big brother? You mean Kassian?"
'Yeah, well...I'd never call him that under normal circumstances.' Cassiel thought dryly. 'But I still have to act like a kid.'
"Haha, yes. We had a chat," He replied, his was voice calm, but not quite convincing. No matter how he tried to say those words, they didn't sound natural. "I also met Lycan."
"I see, how did he react to your presence?" Her tone held curiosity now, maybe even a touch of concern. "As a vargnoul, he's far more hostile than average."
Cassiel's lips tugged into a small, fond smile. "We played. He even let me ride him."
"He let you ride him? He's not a horse, kid!" She chuckled, clearly amused. "It must be because you're really small."
"Well, yes, that makes sense." His thumb brushed against the back of her hand, trying to feel her skin better. "What's a vargnoul, though? I've never heard of an animal called that."
Honora hummed thoughtfully. "That's normal. A vargnoul isn't exactly an animal. It's a magical beast, one that can only be tamed by a Tirania."
Cassiel blinked. 'Huh? That was never mentioned in the book...' Canaria had been able to communicate with all kinds of animals, but vargnouls? That was new.
"Why is that, Your Grace?"
"You see," she began, keeping her voice slow and clear, trying to explain it as simply as she could, "vargnouls come from Sylvarien, the land of fairies. They're...bound to this family, in a way. They share a thread of mana with the first Archduchess."
She turned her head towards the window.
"Back in her time, vargnouls were nearly extinct. But she gave them her mana to survive. Since then, they've remained connected to this family."
'Damn,' Cassiel thought, startled. 'That's deep. Why wasn't this in the novel?!'
Then a thought struck him like lightning.
His eyes widened. "Does that mean...I'll have to tame one too, Your Grace?"
"Indeed," she answered. "Rhydian is already preparing everything."
The child's face lit up, unable to suppress his excitement. "That's awesome!"
Honora was still for a second, and then laughed again, this time more breath than sound. "Well, of course. You're a Tirania now—"
She broke off into a sudden, violent cough.
Cassiel jolted. Her hand, just moments ago so cold, turned rapidly warm, maybe a bit too warm. Then icy again. Then burning.
"Your Grace!" He stood on the chair, panicked. "Come inside! Her Grace isn't feeling well!"
The shift in her body's temperature wasn't just alarming, it was completely unnatural.
'Her mana just surged again.' He realized, watching her with wide eyes. 'It's flowing in short bursts, but the blockages are still there. It must hurt like hell...'
The maids rushed in at once, their hands already reaching for gloves and masks.
Viola didn't waste time. "Young Master, come here!" She lifted him away from the veil.
His hand slipped from Honora's as they were pulled apart.
"Your Grace!" Cassiel involuntarily twisted in her grasp. "I'll come visit again, I swear!" he called, even as the door closed behind them.
His chest rose and fell too fast, too shallow. He knew Honora wasn't at the most critical stage yet...but still. The pulse in his throat wouldn't calm down.
He almost thought she was dying. 'I know this was not the case, but the thought of witnessing someone suffering like that makes me feel uneasy.'
"You. What are you doing here?"
Cassiel turned his head sharply.
An annoyingly familiar voice.
It was Kassian.