Chapter 3: Are You Getting Married?
by Ring“Huff!”
A cool breeze drifted through the open window as Lise practiced walking.
Thanks to days of diligent rehabilitation, it was much easier now than before.
The light exertion had beads of sweat forming on her forehead, but it felt refreshing. She wanted to keep going.
Stepping past the open door, she ventured into the hallway.
No servants were around—likely their break time.
She made it to the central staircase. Just as she was about to turn back, she felt an odd urge for a greater challenge.
‘Maybe just a few steps down…’
The doctor had warned against stairs, but that was two days ago. And today, she felt unusually well.
Gripping the railing, she lowered one foot onto the first step.
It took far more strength than walking on flat ground. Just one step, and her legs were already trembling.
‘That’s enough for today.’
Her body was still recovering—one wrong move, and she might end up in a wheelchair for life.
As she turned to climb back up, her weakened leg suddenly buckled. Her balance tipped backward.
She grabbed the railing, but her grip wasn’t strong enough to pull herself back.
‘Oh no, I’m dead!’
She squeezed her eyes shut.
But—
Instead of falling, her body stopped at an impossible angle, held in place. Warmth enveloped her, soft as a cloud.
Cautiously, she opened her eyes.
“Are you alright, my lady?”
Cain was holding her securely in his arms.
Relief wasn’t her first thought.
‘Why does it have to be you again?’
She’d rather have tumbled down the stairs than endure this awkwardness.
Misreading her expression, Cain spoke.
“You must’ve been startled. Let me take you back to your room.”
“No, I’m fine.”
She wasn’t—she had no strength left to walk—but crawling back seemed preferable to being carried by him.
Cain smiled, but his tone brooked no argument.
“I’m afraid I’m not fine with that.”
Lately, Lise kept seeing new sides of Cain.
She’d thought him obedient, but he could be startlingly firm. Like a blade hidden in silk—she’d been completely fooled.
A chill ran down her spine.
Her resolve hardened: Get rid of him. If I can’t, then run.
Even as his warmth seeped into her, his hands cradling her like fragile porcelain, she couldn’t forget the danger.
“Th… thanks.”
Back in her bed, Lise mumbled her gratitude, eyeing him warily.
Ever since learning his true identity, she’d grown hyper-aware of every action that might provoke him.
Cain studied her. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
“No—”
A sharp pain shot through her leg, twisting her expression before she could hide it.
Too late—he’d already noticed.
“Excuse me.”
Without waiting, he pushed up her skirt.
“W-what are you doing?!”
She tried to pull it back down, but he ignored her, examining her leg with a frown.
“You’re swollen. How is this ‘fine’?”
Swollen?
She looked down. Her right knee was puffy, as if filled with fluid.
‘Did I overdo it? Using joints that haven’t moved in weeks…’
“You need an ice compress.”
“It’s fine. Just call Mirabel.”
“Mirabel is out.”
“Then another servant—”
“I’ll do it.”
That firm tone again. No room for refusal.
Defeated, Lise sighed. “Fine… Go ahead.”
Cain returned within minutes with a towel and an ice pack.
He wrapped her knee gently before placing the ice over it. The cold seeped through instantly, making her shiver.
Cain draped a thick blanket over her shoulders.
Such practiced kindness.
Of course—she was the one who’d drilled it into him. And she’d hounded him relentlessly for any slip-up.
Now, she wished he’d just stop.
“You should go to Lilia now. A servant belongs by their master’s side.”
She kept her voice calm, but inside, she was screaming—
‘Just leave already! I can’t breathe!’
“I’ll stay until the swelling goes down.”
She was certain he was doing this to suffocate her.
Then, abruptly, he asked:
“May I ask you something?”
His low voice sent a prickle of unease down her spine. She prayed it wasn’t anything dangerous.
“…Go ahead.”
“Are you getting married?”
The moment Mirabel returned, she rushed to Lise’s room.
She’d been sent to the apothecary, only to find Madam’s favorite lip balm sold out. To avoid a scolding, she’d dragged Jonathan to a distant market.
The whole way back, she’d fretted—
‘What if my lady needed me?’
Taking the stairs two at a time, she froze when she spotted an unwelcome figure descending.
“Cain? Why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be serving Lady Lilia now?”
“I had something to discuss with Lady Lise.”
Smiling amiably, he bowed politely before brushing past her.
Watching him go, Mirabel’s unease grew.
‘What did he say to her? Why now?’
She knew Lise had favored Cain—how could she not? It had been obvious to anyone with eyes.
But now, just as Lise had resolved to marry, that man might ruin everything.
Another task added to Mirabel’s duties: guarding Lise from Cain.
Cain should’ve checked on Lilia, but he wasn’t in the mood.
Instead, he locked himself in his quarters—a small room bathed in the ruthless glare of the late summer sun.
Leaning against the windowsill, he stared blankly outside.
The sun dipped below the treeline, birds flocked across the apricot sky, and a breeze swayed the willow branches in the garden.
A peaceful evening scene.
But Cain’s mind was elsewhere.
His thoughts were fixed on Lise—and their final exchange.
“Are you getting married?”
“Of course.”
“Why so suddenly?”
“Why? Because I… should. I’m not getting any younger.”
Marriage. Age.
His lips twisted.
She once said age was just a number. That she’d rather stay single than marry someone she didn’t love.
Why the sudden change?
At first, he’d wondered if it was a ploy for his attention—nothing drew focus like a sudden shift in behavior.
But no.
She seemed genuinely resolved.
Why?
What could make her cut off ten years of obsession—cleanly, without a trace?
As the sun vanished, painting the sky in orange, Cain turned the question over and over.
No answer came.
The possibilities were too absurd to entertain.
Finally, he gave up.
Instead, he pressed a hand to his left chest.
‘Lady Lise was in a carriage accident.’
The moment he’d heard, his heart had plummeted—a strange sensation that lingered even now.
That day, a peculiar question had taken root:
What if Lise Berium isn’t as insufferable as I thought?
He wanted to unravel that mystery, but Lise gave him no chance.
From the moment she woke, she’d been pushing him away—desperately.
But that was fine.
If she pushed, he wouldn’t budge.
He had no intention of letting her go until he had his answer.
A faint smile curved his lips—calm, settled.
His shadow stretched long and dark across the floor as he turned from the window.
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