Miss, It’s Just a Cold

Chapter 50: Shedding Everything

It seemed like I had been here for about two weeks.

During that time, not a single letter had arrived from home.

I hadn’t expected one, though I did briefly wonder if my father might write.

In any case, I had been diligently playing the role of a clingy doll.

Wherever I went, Aria followed, even insisting on accompanying me to the bathroom despite my protests. My objections were easily dismissed.

And when Aria wasn’t around, that so-called “friend” of hers, the servant, was always glued to my side.

I had hoped I’d gain a bit of freedom during the ball being held in the mansion, but the servant seemed to think they were Aria herself, constantly monitoring me.

Walking around at night, staring at a fork for a bit too long, or even standing close to a window—everything prompted a question or a warning.

I didn’t resist much.

After all, it wasn’t out of malice but concern—concern for me, or perhaps for Aria, who worried about me.

I don’t dislike people who are committed to their jobs.

Of course, that depends on my mood that day.

The coffee at the mansion was quite good, and it helped calm my oscillating thoughts.

And truthfully, I didn’t hate the attention Aria was giving me.

If I truly hated it, I’d have been left bruised and battered by now.

Just like back at the mansion.

It was precisely because of this, though, that I felt I had to leave.

I needed to distance myself from her—and Ernst too.

Someone like me, always ungrateful and spiteful toward those who cared for and helped me, didn’t deserve their kindness.

Eventually, I had to escape this cage on my own.

I had to.

I wanted to be someone of value.

Doesn’t everyone? At the very least, I wanted to be treated with enough respect to be called a person.

Right now, I was essentially no different from a slave.

And so, because of that, because of everything—

Today, Aria was at the ballroom, mingling with guests and engaging in conversation.

That left me wandering the halls, a nervous servant trailing behind, allowing me a small taste of restricted freedom.

I never imagined walking inside such a grand building at night could feel so liberating.

While wandering, I encountered a face I recognized but wasn’t particularly familiar with.

It was Aria’s father.

Instead of offering a verbal greeting, I straightened my posture, met his eyes, and offered a polite bow.

He didn’t simply brush past me. Instead, he looked at me for a moment before speaking.

“Would you mind having a word with me?”

I paused to gather my thoughts, then nodded and said, “Of course.”

The servant beside me seemed nervous, fidgeting and wringing their hands, even ignoring my earlier request to give me space.

Aria’s father led me to a parlor—an ideal place for a private conversation.

He opened the door and dismissed the servant, telling them to return to their quarters and rest. He ushered me inside alone.

The room was adorned with ornate paintings, lavish decorations that screamed wealth, and softly glowing fixtures on the walls.

He called for the butler, who brought a bottle of liquor. Filling a glass with ice, he poured an unidentified spirit generously and downed it in one gulp.

“Would you like some?”

“No, thank you.”

He poured another glass, stared into it, and then spoke.

My daughter… asked the head butler to acquire a weapon.

Something simple enough for a woman to use… like, say, a small pistol capable of killing someone.

For someone so adamant in their disapproval, why had he allowed her to go through with it?

If I weren’t so detached, I might have embraced Aria on the spot and told her I loved her.

I let you stay here despite your rather discourteous words because my daughter insisted you were her only friend.

But this matter seems too grave to overlook, so I feel I must hear your explanation.

Not to threaten you, of course, but if my daughter has befriended someone unsavory, it is my duty as her father to address that.

“Well.”

If I smoked, I would’ve lit a cigarette at this point, savoring the moment. But in my current condition, smoking wasn’t an option.

Maybe I’d take it up once I recovered, though I wouldn’t care if I didn’t.

“The parents I know don’t act like that, so I must be confused.”

She’s an unmarried young lady. I can’t fault your misunderstanding.

Regardless, I want to hear directly from you why you asked her to acquire such a thing.

Once I know, I’ll decide whether to let you be or to leave you at the mercy of your illness tonight.

“Hah. You’ll probably end up extorting my mother for money. Demand an earnest apology about how a beloved daughter was left to die. Who knows, you might even succeed.”

“……”

He looked at me with visible discomfort.

“Listen, I didn’t approach Aria. If anything, you, sir—your excellency, your grace, your lordship—what should I call you? It’s confusing. Anyway, Aria came to me first.”

“…I hesitate to say this directly, but… what value do you even have?”

“Beats me. I don’t know either.”

I shrugged, and his brow twitched in irritation.

The scene felt surreal—a count, late at night, in a closed room, threatening a girl who wasn’t even betrothed.

It clashed so starkly with my understanding of propriety that it was almost laughable.

Still, I know quite a bit.

For instance, the current emperor is supposedly a cuckoo bird, your wife’s lineage is allegedly the result of inbreeding, and your head butler used to be an assassin.

Just useless bits of information, really.

This place felt like a patchwork of every sensational and cliched trope imaginable.

It was the perfect setting for a romance novel, had I not been here to disrupt its flow.

And yet, none of that mattered.

Even if I told him I was a reader thrown into this world from a book, who would believe me?

I’d be lucky not to end up in an asylum.

The man before me, though, seemed genuinely startled.

He didn’t say a word, merely staring at me in silence.

Feel free to dispose of me if I make you uncomfortable.

No one will care.

Aria might grieve a little, and my childhood friend might feel a bit down. 

My family will probably be pleased to pocket some money, and me… well, I’ll just have an insignificant ending, nothing more.

“…You spin rumors as if they’re facts.”

“If your voice shakes even slightly, the credibility of your words crumbles.”

He already knew.

He had to.

He must have seen it—though I wasn’t sure which part or when.

Frankly, it’s absurd for characters thrown into a novel to remember every detail perfectly while navigating the world.

Maybe if I were exceptionally smart, but I’m not.

And who memorizes novels line by line anyway?

Unless something truly memorable sticks with you.

What are you, exactly?

Aside from belonging to a family with a history of minor administrative work, there doesn’t seem to be anything remarkable about you.

I couldn’t answer him easily.

“Who knows?”

He seemed to take my silence as a refusal to answer.

In truth, it wasn’t that I wouldn’t—it was that I couldn’t.

Would I eventually be found here with blood smeared across my mouth?

The cause of death? They’d make something up.

Given my constant frailty, it wouldn’t even seem odd.

Any excuse they came up with wouldn’t feel out of place.

He studied me for a long moment before speaking in a low voice.

“Just tell me one thing. Will you harm my daughter or not?”

I tapped my fingers as I thought before replying.

“Probably not. As long as your daughter isn’t sad when I disappear.”

Aria’s father, the Count of Eisenach, drew a pistol from his coat and handed it to me.

Along with a pouch filled with bullets.

I took the pistol, opened the chamber to check its emptiness, and slid it into the waistband of my trousers.

Now that my business was done, I had no reason to stay in this mansion any longer.

Being with me was more draining for Aria than enjoyable, like some form of emotional labor she was forced to endure.

I knew that well enough.

Someone like me didn’t deserve help.

There was no reason for anyone to care about me or invest any emotion in me.

I’m a worthless person.

I didn’t start out that way.

Someone else made me like this.

I want to be someone with value.

I want to be loved by someone.

I want to love someone else—not for any calculated reason, not for any gain, but just because.

And so, because of that—because of all of that.