Chapter 98

︵‿୨ ₊‧꒰ა ཐི༏ཋྀ ໒꒱ ˚₊ ୧‿︵

“All done!”

Evelyn beamed with pride at the glass jar filled to the brim with brilliant, multicolored stars, tying it off with a satin ribbon.

Just then, Viaton, who had been hovering nearby, glanced at her, eyeing her reaction.

“Little sis—”

“No, you can’t.”

No doubt, he was after the paper stars.

‘Hmph, as if I’d just hand them over to him.’

He was the one who’d agreed to make them with her, only to give up early, claiming it didn’t suit him. So, why would she share her precious stars with a brother who couldn’t appreciate them?

At her firm response, Viaton stuck out his lower lip in a pout.

“Tch, I haven’t even asked yet.”

With that, he plopped onto the sofa opposite her and began crunching noisily on a cookie.

Watching him, Evelyn scowled.

“You’re getting crumbs everywhere!”

“A few crumbs won’t hurt anything.”

“Hey! Get back to your room right now!”

Thanks to the never-ending bickering between the Inevasel siblings, the marquisate was never quiet for long. As they batted at each other with cushions, someone knocked gently at the door.

Knock, knock—

“Evelyn, may I come in for a moment?”

At the gentle voice of the marchioness, Evelyn’s eyes grew wide in surprise.

‘What brings Mother here?’

It was unusual for her to visit at this hour, when she would typically be in the mistress’s study, managing the estate’s affairs.

“Yes, please come in!”

The Marchioness soon entered the room, already dressed to go out.

“Mother, are you going somewhere?”

Evelyn tilted her head in curiosity. For a brief moment, her mother’s expression grew troubled. She knelt to her level, gently smoothing her daughter’s hair.

“It seems Young Lord Valentino is very ill.”

“Huh? He’s sick?”

Her mouth fell open in disbelief, as if she’d heard something impossible.

Axion had never even caught a cold, not even in winter, so how could this be?

Sensing her daughter’s confusion, the Marchioness continued gently.

“Do you remember how sick you were this past spring?”

This past spring…

Not long after her birthday, Evelyn had suffered a terrible bout of awakening fever, a condition that struck children with innate abilities when they turned twelve. It was said that the stronger the power one possessed, the more severe the illness. Inheriting her father’s healing gift, she had barely recovered after three days and nights of fever.

As she gave a small nod, the Marchioness explained Axion’s situation.

The House of Valentino had possessed magical power for generations, and their rightful heir, Axion, was no exception. He, too, could not escape the awakening fever.

“They say his fever hasn’t broken in a week now.”

“Huh? A week?”

The symptoms of an awakening fever weren’t to be taken lightly. Not only did it cause bouts of coughing up blood, but it also brought a searing agony, as if one’s entire body were burning with uncontrollable power.

‘He’s been enduring that pain for a whole week?’

When she had gone through her own awakening fever, she’d spent night after night sobbing in her mother’s arms.

As she struggled to find words, the Marchioness spoke softly.

“If my daughter went with me, wouldn’t that bring the young lord a bit of strength?”

I doubt that very much…

Evelyn couldn’t agree with her mother. She was certain that, if anything, he wouldn’t even spare her a glance. Even though it had been nearly two years since their engagement, whenever the two of them met, it always seemed to end in bickering.

‘Still, he must be in terrible pain.’

Lost in thought, cheeks puffed out in indecision, her gaze drifted to the ribbon-adorned glass jar, the one filled with paper stars she’d made, each folded with her own wishes.

Suddenly, a thought flashed through her mind, and her clear, green eyes sparkled with resolve.

“Mother, I’ll go with you!”

Clutching the jar tightly in both hands, she followed her mother to the Valentino estate. Despite the oppressive summer heat, the atmosphere within the ducal manor was somber and cold. The duchess’s eyes were swollen and red, as if she hadn’t stopped weeping for days.

Uncomfortable among the gathered adults, Evelyn slipped quietly from the drawing room, jar in hand. She hurried up the stairs to the very last room at the end of the corridor and tapped gently on the door.