Miss, It’s Just a Cold

Chapter 70: I love you.

Come to think of it, I didn’t need to feel guilty or fret so much.

They’re people who have no connection with me.

I just need to raise my children well.

Differently from them.

A cough escaped my lips.

It wasn’t like before when I’d bleed uncontrollably, but the handkerchief was faintly stained red.

I stared at the increasingly soiled handkerchief for a long time, then smiled faintly and shook my head.

***

Life is always leisurely.

From the start, there was never any reason to struggle for money, and there weren’t any desperate people around me, frantically trying to make a quick fortune.

Money is good to have, but as long as there’s enough, that’s all that matters.

Ah, that’s right. A child was born.

Since it was a boy, I named him Felix this time.

Ernst’s parents grumbled about both Felicia and Felix being such commoner-sounding names, but honestly, what even is a “commoner-sounding” name?

I thought it was rather nice.

Better to live comfortably and happily in modest abundance than to one day inherit a crumbling empire under a dazzling palace.

Still, if he ever has aspirations, I’d have to support him.

Thankfully, Aria—though I suppose I shouldn’t call her Aria anymore—is now the Empress.

If I go to her and call her by name, asking for what I desire, she’ll grant it.

Calling her “Miss” doesn’t suit her anymore.

Or does it? Rin still calls me “Miss,” so teasingly referring to her that way might not be too bad.

She did say we were friends.

Not that I desire much to begin with.

I just plan to ask her to make sure Felix can advance as far as his abilities will take him without being held back.

It’s not like I’d ask her to secure him some lofty position. Felix should rise on his own merits.

With just me and Ernst, our backing isn’t terribly weak, but compared to the Emperor, it might as well be nonexistent.

If he lacks talent, I’d simply hope for him to meet a sweet, lovely girl somewhere quiet and live a happy life.

No grudges, only goodwill—earning favor from everyone around him.

Though it does feel strange to hope for anything from a four-year-old.

Oh, that’s right. Felicia is eight now.

She’s at that age where she looks utterly adorable when dressed in a fluttering dress.

Though she attends school, I opted not to hire a tutor and chose to teach her myself.

As much as possible, I focus on subjects that are simple and fun.

Arithmetic—if she can manage multiplication and division, that should be enough for a girl.

I’ve been writing down and adapting stories from the old world and teaching them to her.

That’s my essence, after all.

I wanted to pass on everything good I had to my child.

Of course, only the good things.

And as for etiquette or manners, I’ve only taught her the basics.

At the very least, I didn’t want to see Felicia weighed down by the cursed habits that clung to me and wouldn’t let go.

Even though Mother was gone, this rigid posture of mine showed no signs of fading.

Probably because it had been drilled into me over nearly a decade with punishments for the slightest deviation.

It was inhuman.

This world seems to love such inhumanity, but I prefer what’s human.

Killing someone, humiliating someone, trampling someone…

I hate it.

That much, I can say for sure.

***

“…How’s your health?”

“I’m fine. I mean, it’s not like collapsing from coughing is new, so why worry so much?”

“It’s not like I wouldn’t worry when you’re spitting up blood and collapsing.

Even when Felicia scrapes her knees running around, you make such a fuss. Do you hear yourself?”

But when Felicia scraped her knee, it felt like I was the one who was hurt.

Felicia, on the other hand, had just laughed cheerfully.

“…Well, I guess you have a point.”

“So, how are you really? No numbness or stiffness anywhere?”

“No, nothing. You know it’s just a sore throat and then it’s over.”

“You’ve got to live a long life. At the very least, you need to see your grandchildren.”

“It’s a bit early to be talking about that, don’t you think? We’re both still so young.”

“You’re constantly frail and unwell, that’s why I’m saying it.”

“You know as well as I do that it can’t be helped.”

Laughter echoed faintly from the hallway, accompanied by the sound of small feet running.

Glancing toward the sound, I saw Felicia darting about, wearing the top and pants I had bought for her, a stick in hand as she played.

Moments later, Rin—who, by now, seemed more like a lady than a girl—entered the room Ernst and I were sitting in, breathing heavily.

After briefly glancing at Ernst and greeting him, she turned to me with a pout.

“Miss,” she began, exasperated, “please do something about those two!”

“What’s the problem?”

“They’re running all over the estate!”

“Well, isn’t it great that they’re so healthy and full of energy?”

“They’ll get hurt again like last time!”

“They’ll heal quickly enough with some spit and a little care. And besides…

I wanted to run around like that, too.

How could I stop my daughter from fulfilling my dream?”

Running was impossible for me. Even walking quickly would get me kicked back then.

“…I’ll handle it.”

Rin rolled up her sleeves and trudged back out.

Perhaps because chasing Felicia around in proper shoes was impossible, Rin had taken to wearing simple, practical footwear more suited for running.

“Rin still calls you ‘Miss.’”

I replied with a chuckle.

“She met me back then. I don’t think she could ever forget it.

You’d probably be a little startled, too, if you went out to buy candy and returned to find everyone in the house dead except for yourself.”

“A little startled? I’d be terrified.”

“Anyway, I just… I hope they grow up healthy… No, honestly, I want so much more than that.”

It would be a lie to say I only wanted one thing.

The truth is, I want too much.

If they ever fall in love, I hope they meet someone wonderful and kind.

It wouldn’t matter much if that person were a commoner—we have enough wealth and status as it is.

If their rank really becomes an issue, I could always pull some strings at the palace.

And I hope their lives are free of suffering.

I suffered.

Probably.

Meeting Ernst and Aria brought me happiness in the end, but that happiness was only possible because I took the necessary steps to rid myself of my wretched family.

I hope my children never see me as a useless person, one who makes their lives miserable, and cast me aside.

That kind of ending leaves a bitter taste.

Though, at the moment, the act itself does feel exhilarating.

Afterward, however, the emptiness sets in, and the exhaustion of thinking, Why did I live so pathetically when all it took was pulling the trigger once? overwhelms me.

“I want my children to love the songs I play for them.

I want them to remember the melodies I share.”

“They already do. Even when you’re not around, they hum your tunes.”

“I want them to love me. Maybe not as much as I love them, but enough.”

“They already do.”

“But I can’t be sure. I don’t know if I’m okay, if I’m truly loving my children, or if they truly love me.”

“That’s not something you try to confirm. It’s just… natural.”

“Then, am I loving them naturally right now?”

Unless I consciously control myself, I sometimes find my emotions surging uncontrollably.

It feels less like something natural and more like something artificial, almost rehearsed.

“Don’t overthink it. You’re doing fine as it is.

Unless… Did someone say something to you?”

“Who would dare criticize me?”

“…That’s true.”

Even though I might be creating my own worries, it feels like I’d suffocate if I didn’t.

I’m probably the only noble who lives in constant fear that some random stranger might pull a gun on me during an ordinary walk.

Though there might be others like me.

Somewhere out there.

And those people are likely illegitimate children plucked from some slum or inherently flawed individuals by nature.

Would anyone else face such persecution just for having red eyes and white skin and hair?

I didn’t want to die, so I killed those who tried to kill me. But after the fact, all I wanted was to die.

The only reason I’m still breathing is because someone saved me, kept me from giving up on life entirely.

***

“Hey, Ernst.”

“What is it?”

I spoke quietly, just loud enough to rise above the faint crackling of the logs in the fireplace.

“It’s just… I feel like I need to say this.”

I realized I’d never said it out loud before.

The thought made me self-conscious, and the redness of my face wasn’t from the firelight but my emotions.

“I love you.”

Instead of replying, Ernst stepped closer and embraced me.

We stayed that way for a long while, and when he finally pulled away, the air felt noticeably warmer.

There was something ticklish rising inside me.

It wasn’t the kind of happiness that suddenly changes your life, makes everything seem beautiful, or fills you with boundless joy.

It was just… peaceful.

I felt certain that it was okay for me to be here.

***

Because of my illness, I might not live a long life.

I might not get to share all the songs still lingering in my mind.

I might fill part of my children’s childhood with sorrow.

But somehow, I didn’t think that would happen.

After all, it’s just a cold.