{I miss you, Noah. Can you come right now?}

“Is this really a letter from the House of Grachio?”

“Yes, Young Master. I received it directly from the coachman and brought it to you immediately. It seems Lady Grachio ordered it to be delivered as quickly as possible.”

“…Beatrice?”

It was a dreary day with rain falling steadily since morning. What finally prompted me to move, when I had intended to just lie in bed after waking due to the gloomy weather and my reluctance to go out, was this unexpected urgent message.

The luxurious parchment embossed with the eagle symbol of the ducal house and the elegant handwriting indeed matched those of the lady with whom I had been exchanging letters. However, the brevity of the content, just one line, made me question its authenticity.

The lady had never sent a letter like this before, one that stated only the main point. Wasn’t she the one who would fill two or three pages of parchment with flowery words and formal expressions, even for mundane greetings about good weather?

The urgency of the situation was evident in that short breath, simply saying she missed me and asking if I could come right away. My heart sank. I didn’t even take time to prepare properly for going out, just changed my clothes and immediately boarded the carriage.

“What could it be? Beatrice has never done this before.”

“Well, Young Master, I’m not sure if it’s true, but according to recent rumors…”

In the carriage advancing through the steady rain toward the Duke’s mansion, Nicole cautiously began speaking about whispers circulating only among the servants lately.

The gist was that the Duchess, who had never been in good health, had now reached a truly precarious state. Her life was apparently hanging by a thread, and the servants were finding it extremely difficult to attend to their superiors, who had become highly sensitive due to the situation.

“…I didn’t know.”

“Don’t blame yourself. Of course you couldn’t have known. The ducal house hasn’t made any official announcement yet.”

Could it really be nothing else? My initial alarm at the lady’s uncharacteristic message seemed to be calming down. As far as I knew, the Duchess would remain perfectly alive until the end of the game, so this incident would probably just be a passing episode. This was also my first time building a friendship with Beatrice from early on, so I hadn’t known about such incidents before.

Perhaps they had been expecting me early, as the gatekeeper of the ducal house immediately opened the main gate. As I opened the carriage door and stepped out, the head butler, whose face had become familiar after seeing him several times, personally welcomed me.

“Thank you for coming, Young Master.”

“Where’s Beatrice?”

“The young lady is in her room.”

I simply nodded and immediately strode up the stairs. There was no time for etiquette or anything else. Though I knew the Duchess wouldn’t die, that didn’t mean the lady’s current state of mind was fine.

“Beatrice!”

“…Noah.”

I burst through the door into the room. The lady—no, Beatrice—who had been sobbing with her face buried in her pillow, collapsed toward me without even managing to compose her expression. As I quietly held her and patted her back, my chest gradually became damp.

“What’s wrong, Beatrice? What happened? Hmm?”

“Noah… Mother, Mother…”

Beatrice, who had always been mature and dignified from the moment we first met, couldn’t even complete her sentences and burst into tears with a feverish face. She looked as vulnerable as a lost child.

I continued to pat her back, offering empty consolations: “It’ll be okay. Everything will be fine.” I couldn’t bring myself to say, “I’ve seen the future, and the Duchess will be perfectly fine.”

“Suddenly… you must be surprised… I’m sorry, but I was so scared… terrified… if Mother really passes away… then I…”

“Shh. Don’t think such thoughts. The Duchess will recover. Seeing such a beautiful daughter will surely give her strength.”

“Hic, Noah.”

“Until the Duchess recovers, I’ll visit more often. Beatrice needs to keep her spirits up too. Have you eaten?”

Even Beatrice, who always displayed an almost arrogantly confident attitude, was just a barely-grown adult who had just passed twenty. She tried to stop her hiccupping sobs and barely managed to shake her head. I instructed someone through the door, which was open about a hand’s width, to bring some warm soup. I heard the sound of shoes hurriedly running away.

“Thank you so much for coming. The doctor said last night to start preparing myself mentally…”

“Beatrice…”

“I felt completely lost and scared, and you were the only person I could think of, so…”

Her honest confession that I was the only person she could think of left me speechless. I suddenly realized that upon receiving her uncharacteristic letter, my own thoughts had been filled with nothing but concern for her.

Beatrice Grachio. The one and only friend of protagonist Allen Hamilton. Cousin of romance character Carlisle Graham.

I had approached her simply as a connection to Lord Graham. But really, somehow…

‘Won’t you maintain even the minimum dignity as a noble? Here, wipe with this.’

‘Thank you, Lady. I’ll clean this handkerchief and return it…’

‘Don’t bother. I don’t need it, just throw it away.’

No, perhaps it was from the moment when, unlike others who passed by with satisfactory looks after Allen’s followers spilled wine on me, she alone approached first and handed me a handkerchief like offering charity.

‘Why are you there, Riche? Let’s go!’

‘Yes, Allen.’

Even as she followed Allen, she glanced back at me one more time, seemingly concerned about my appearance soaked in wine.

“It’s okay, Beatrice. It’s okay. Everything will be fine. Those terrible things you’re imagining… none of them will happen.”

I might have wanted to become her friend.

That day, Beatrice managed to finish half her soup before falling asleep in front of me. She had apparently spent almost a week without proper sleep since the Duchess’s condition worsened.

“I apologize for the imposition, Young Master. But could you possibly visit more frequently, at least for the time being…?”

The head butler of the Grachio ducal house, known to be powerful enough to make birds fall from the sky, was a strict old man who probably lived with his nose higher in the air than most nobles. Yet he made such a request to me in an uncharacteristically pitiful voice. I smiled and answered. Though I had no time to waste elsewhere if I wanted to find Lennox, and soon I wouldn’t even be able to visit the trading company after Mr. Seymour left the capital, how could I abandon a friend… in sorrow?

“Of course I should. If I don’t visit at a time like this, who will?”

“…Thank you.”

“Then I’ll come again tomorrow.”

After that, I faithfully kept my promise to visit often. I diligently “clocked in” at the ducal house at least every other day. Beatrice had regained much of her strength by then. She could now laugh as usual and exchange trivial jokes with me. Still, since there was no improvement in the Duchess’s condition, we couldn’t completely relax.

I continued to visit the ducal house frequently, encouraging Beatrice to eat at least a little and forcing her to walk in the garden. Today too, after completing such a routine, I was just about to return to the Count’s mansion.

“Young Lord, please go back inside quickly. Even servants have eyes. What good would come from attracting unnecessary attention?”

“Sigh, I understand…”

At the far end of the garden, a familiar hair color caught my eye. Deep black hair, rare to see in the capital. My gaze, which was about to pass by thoughtlessly, was suddenly captured. I unconsciously widened my eyes and muttered:

“Why, why, why is he there right now…?”

Even the heavens weren’t indifferent to me, who had all but given up the opportunity to meet a romance character for the sake of a friend. No matter how many times I blinked, the retreating back quickly walking toward the building was indeed the back of the head I knew well.

“Pardon? Young Master, what’s wrong? You stopped in the middle of boarding the carriage. Is there something over there?”

“No, nothing, Nicole. I must have seen wrong.”

…Jackpot! After boarding the carriage, I clenched my teeth and let out a silent cheer. Black hair is common among northerners. It was undoubtedly Duke Carlisle, the final romance character.

By Zephyria

Hello, I'm Zephyria, an avid BL reader^^ I post AI/Machine assisted translation. Due to busy schedule I'll just post all works I have mtled. However, as you know the quality is not guaranteed. Maybe just enough to fill your curiosity.

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