For the next few days, everyone was quite busy.
The Duke had traveled to the capital, staying at the palace for three days to attend an important meeting with royalty, high-ranking nobles, and key officials regarding matters at the empire's border. The discussions were tense, the stakes high, and the schedule relentless.
Meanwhile, Adeline had returned to the tailoring workshop and resumed her duties there. Dane had wanted to accompany her, but she firmly refused, reminding him to focus on his studies and training.
Four days later, late in the evening, the Duke finally returned to the manor. It was already past 9 o'clock. Dane wasn't there to greet him—Adeline had insisted he go to bed early.
So it was Adeline who welcomed him back.
"Welcome home, Your Grace," she said, offering a graceful curtsy.
The Duke only gave her a slight nod. He looked utterly exhausted—too worn out to even throw one of his usual jabs. What no one knew was that he wasn't just tired. He was unwell.
"James, you're dismissed for tonight. I can handle things myself," Darwin said quietly, handing the butler his coat before heading toward his chambers.
James gave a small bow in acknowledgment and stepped back. "Very well, Your Grace."
Adeline, too, excused herself and retired to her room.
Just as she was about to settle into bed, freshly washed and wrapped in her night robe, something came to mind.
"Oh—right. Dane asked me to give him his drawings. I almost forgot," she muttered. Throwing on a coat to keep warm, she headed toward the Duke's room, the folder of sketches in hand.
She knocked softly. "Your Grace, are you asleep? I forgot something Dane wanted me to give you."
She waited a few moments. No response.
She hesitated. He might already be asleep. Maybe she should just come back in the morning.
Still, curiosity tugged at her. It was unlike him to ignore a knock completely—and something felt... off.
Tentatively, she pushed the door open, surprised to find it unlocked. That was strange. The Duke always locked his door before bed. This alone made her uneasy.
Peeking inside, her eyes widened.
There, sitting on the floor and slumped against the side of his bed, was Darwin. At first glance, he seemed to be asleep, but the way he was breathing—shallow and uneven—immediately alarmed her.
"Your Grace?" she called softly, stepping inside. "Why are you on the floor? You'll catch a chill."
She knelt beside him, gently touching his forehead and then his neck. Her expression darkened with worry.
"You're burning up... You're sick!" she gasped. "Why didn't you say anything? I'll get James—"
As she began to rise, a hand suddenly gripped her wrist.
"Don't..." Darwin murmured, voice hoarse and faint. "I can... handle myself."
She frowned, ready to scold him—but the look in his eyes made her pause. There was something vulnerable in his expression, almost pleading. He seemed adamant about his reasons.
With a quiet sigh, she nodded. "Alright... fine."
She helped him to his feet and guided him carefully to the bed.
"Even if you don't want me to call James, I still want to help you. It doesn't feel right to leave you like this," she said, then quickly moved to his closet and pulled out some warm, comfortable clothes.
"Here—change into this. I'll fetch some water and a towel," she said and hurried out of the room.
Darwin, though sluggish, did his best to get changed.
Moments later, Adeline returned with a basin of warm water, a towel draped over her arm, and medicine in hand.
She spotted him lying back on the bed, eyes half-lidded, clearly drained.
"Don't fall asleep yet. You need to take your medicine first," she said gently.
She helped him sit up, then began carefully dabbing his face with the damp towel, making sure not to soak him too much. She moved slowly to his neck, then to his arms.
"Excuse me... Could you remove your shirt?" she asked, her voice steady. "It's important I help lower your temperature properly."
Darwin nodded and wordlessly slipped it off.
Adeline pressed the towel to his chest with slow, gentle motions, concern etched clearly into her features.
Darwin watched her silently. The way she handled him—careful, tender, without judgment—it felt unfamiliar, yet comforting. He wasn't used to letting people see him like this, vulnerable. He usually tended to his fevers alone, out of habit, out of pride.
But with Adeline, he didn't feel the urge to push her away. In fact, he welcomed her presence. Her touch was warm. Her concern, genuine.
"I'm done. Here—take this," she said, wringing out the towel and placing it back in the basin before handing him the medicine.
He took it without protest.
"Here's your shirt," she said, reaching for the fresh one she had prepared.
Darwin took the shirt, but then paused—an idea crossed his mind.
"Lady Adeline... could you help me with that?" he asked, feigning fatigue. "Putting it on feels... like too much right now."
Adeline gave him a look, but said nothing. She stepped closer and carefully helped him into the shirt, adjusting it over his shoulders and buttoning it at the front.
Their closeness made Darwin aware of every small movement. He found himself stealing quiet glances at her—at her focused expression, her lashes, the way her lips pressed together slightly as she worked.
He felt things he didn't quite know how to name.
"There." She straightened up and gently helped him lie back down, tucking the blanket over him.
"Good night, Your Grace," she said, turning to leave.
But once again, his hand caught her wrist.
"Your Grace?" she asked, surprised.
"Stay," he said softly. "Just for a moment. I might need assistance... later."
It wasn't the real reason. Not entirely. The truth was, he didn't want her to leave just yet.
Adeline looked at him, then nodded silently. She sat down on the edge of the bed, folding her hands in her lap.
Darwin stared at the ceiling, feeling a quiet peace settle over him—something he hadn't felt in years.
Darwin found himself wanting to keep the conversation going. He wasn't used to this—the desire to talk. But something in him was changing, and he knew it had to do with her.
"Has Dane ever gotten sick like this?" he asked.
Adeline nodded with a smile. "Of course. Though he's stubborn when he's sick," she chuckled softly. "Whenever he gets a fever, he lies about it—but I always know. He'll try to run away from me, but I'm faster than him."
Darwin listened quietly, her voice strangely soothing. Watching her smile like that—it was mesmerizing. He wanted to see more of it, to hear more.
"…And when he insists he's fine, I grab his head and press my forehead against his. That's how I always know if he's burning up," she said, fondness in her voice. "Despite acting all grown-up and clever, he's still a child when he's ill—refusing bitter medicine and insisting he's perfectly okay."
"I see," Darwin murmured. "He might've gotten that from me."
"Obviously," she replied with a smirk.
He chuckled. "But really? Just using your forehead? Isn't using your hand more accurate?"
"Don't underestimate the forehead method," she said, shifting closer to him. "Let me show you."
Before he could respond, she leaned in and pressed her forehead gently against his.
Darwin's breath caught in his throat.
They were so close. Too close.
He could feel her breath brushing his lips. Their noses touched, and the soft warmth of her skin made his heart pound—loud, fast, as though it echoed in his ears.
His eyes flicked to her lips.
Soft... he thought. How would they feel on mine?
His fingers gripped the blanket tightly. The temptation to lean in was overwhelming.
"See?" she said, leaning back with a satisfied look. "Your fever's not that high anymore."
She had no idea what effect she'd just had on him.
She tilted her head when she noticed his uneven breathing and the redness creeping up his face. "Are you alright? Do you need—?"
"I—I'm fine," Darwin interrupted quickly, looking away. "You can go now. I need to rest."
Though confused, Adeline nodded. "Alright. Good night, Your Grace."
Once the door closed behind her, Darwin groaned and dragged the blanket over his face, his heart still thudding.
"What the hell is wrong with me…?" he muttered. Why was I thinking of kissing her?
That's not like me at all… is it?