Chapter 8: The Ordeal of Michaelis

Michaelis, already showing signs of premature aging despite still being a teenager, was dragged off to the hot springs under a convenient pretext.
I simply could not bear to look at him anymore.
Apparently, he had endured the self-proclaimed fiancée who waved around a promise that barely existed, all while upholding his gentlemanly code of not mistreating a lady.
Well then, surely he cannot mistreat a lady of a ducal house who has shown him favor either.

Hohoho, try brushing off this arm if you can!

I grabbed his arm firmly and hauled him away just like Seira had done.
Was my chest pressed against him?
Of course it was.
Not that there was much to press.

He allowed himself to be dragged along, muttering weak protests the entire time.
He is older and physically stronger than I am, yet he does not resist.
Or perhaps he cannot.

While walking closely together, I noticed a sharp, pungent scent coming from him.

“Michaelis, you smell strange. Did you change your perfume?”

He does not seem the type to wear strong perfume.
Father wears a sweet yet refined fragrance with a hint of cool sharpness.
Julius also wears one, subtly sweet with a forest-like undertone.

Michaelis’s scent, however, is less refined and more… wild.

“…It is not perfume.”

He looked exhausted and bitter as he said it.

During our time at the hot springs, the smell faded.
But back at the Dimitrias residence, it returned—sometimes even permeating the house itself.

The scent was strongest during afternoon tea.
Occasionally in the mornings as well.
And whenever it was strongest, Michaelis looked the most worn down.

Today the smell is overwhelming.

I found him leaning against a window frame, looking utterly drained, with Jibril fretting beside him.

“You do not look well, Michaelis. What happened?”

“He ate my portion too…” Jibril sniffled tearfully.

That made no sense.
Michaelis adores his sister.
Then why—

He looked ghastly pale, sweating, clutching his mouth.

He suddenly lurched and vomited.
Completely and thoroughly.
All over my finest Rose-brand silk dress.

The sharp stench of stomach acid filled the air.

He kept retching.
I gently rubbed his back.
Somehow, a strange calm overtook me, as if enlightenment had descended.

Once finished, he turned even paler for a different reason.

“I… I am terribly sorry… forgive me…”

“You were unwell. It cannot be helped. Do you feel any better?”

“But your dress…”

“I own many dresses.”

Not entirely a lie.
But that blue-and-white striped empire dress had been a favorite.

Still, I smiled and stroked his head reassuringly.

Then came Seira’s saccharine voice.

“Lord Michael~ perhaps you would join me for a stroll— oh! That is disgusting! Did you vomit? How dreadful!”

Jibril snapped.

“It is your fault! You keep forcing that awful food on him!”

“It is exquisite cuisine using premium spices from the Kingdom of Goyuran!”

“Even mice at Lattiche would not eat that! It is just spicy and painful!”

Ah.

So that was it.
Seira had been proudly presenting heavily spiced dishes.
Michaelis, too polite to refuse a lady, forced himself to eat them.
And to protect Jibril, he even consumed her portion.

The smell I noticed all this time was the spice-laden aftermath.

After that, I put Michaelis on a strict gentle diet for a week—grated fruits, milk porridge, soft vegetables.
On the third day he clearly wanted meat, but I refused.
There had been something reddish in his vomit.
Spice or blood, it did not matter.

I also personally wrote a polite yet scathing letter to Seira’s parents regarding their daughter’s conduct.
Julius supervised.
It looked courteous.
It was not.

As for Jibril, who had punched Seira hard enough to give her a nosebleed, I scolded her gently.

“You must not fight like a boy. You are a count’s daughter.”

“But she insulted you!”

“My dear Jibril, do not descend to her level.”

She reluctantly agreed.

Later, Father asked casually if he might “discipline” Michaelis for vomiting on me.

Absolutely not.

Apparently, had I given permission, the Dimitrias house would have vanished from the noble registry.

Father had even prepared everything in advance.

Prepared what?

Please, Father, spare them.