Please Don’t Die, My Lady

Chapter 8: Human

I could feel everything related to me deteriorating in real-time.

This situation.

My physical state.

Perhaps it was the mental strain, but the blood rushing to my head made the back of my neck stiff.

It felt like someone had opened a nightclub in my skull.

The pulsing sensation, perfectly timed with my heartbeat, was almost artistic in its own way.

“…You don’t look well. Your head is bleeding,” said the girl in front of me.

Most of this situation stemmed from her.

I thought I had managed to brush off the embarrassing scene on the stairs by rejecting her kindness, yet here she was, back again, seemingly intent on causing me further pain.

Suppressing the urge to slam the door shut, I asked her a question.

I just wanted to hear her reason for coming and send her on her way as quickly as possible.

“It’s stopped. I’m fine, so don’t worry about it.

Why don’t you tell me why you’re here?”

“…You didn’t show up to class today, so I told the professor you might be sick.

This is today’s coursework,” she said, pulling out three or four sheets of paper from the folder she was holding and handing them to me.

The notes were a combination of the professor’s lecture, magically copied, and her own handwriting, thoughtfully added for clarity.

The attention to detail was evident.

I silently raised my right hand to accept the papers.

Taking them with one hand might come across as rude, but my left hand was still holding onto the doorknob, bearing my weight.

Apparently, I had slept through the entire day.

Judging by my condition, however, leaving things as they were could spell serious trouble.

It would be wise to ask her for help right now.

Of course, while my mind acknowledged that, the words that came out of my mouth were the opposite.

“Thank you.

If that’s all, could you please leave now?”

“No. I have something else to discuss, so please let me in.”

“No.”

Despite her gentle appearance, the girl had a certain firmness about her.

So I responded with equal decisiveness.

Normally, I would have used the roundabout phrasing of a noble, but I didn’t have the energy for that now.

I wanted to get back to bed as soon as possible.

I hoped she would understand and leave, but it seemed that was too much to ask.

Her expression stiffened for a moment before she said something that turned my mind blank.

“I’ve heard a lot about you from Hans, Your Grace.

He said you value etiquette and grace. Isn’t treating your guests with respect also a noble virtue?”

Hans. Hans Decardi.

The duchess’ unrequited love, her first love—and her betrayer.

Memories I hadn’t even tried to recall began flooding my mind, throwing it into chaos.

Joyful moments.

Longing for the past.

Regretful decisions.

Eyes filled with contempt.

Parents who disappeared without a trace.

Me, frozen in confusion.

Servants crying out in despair, sensing their inevitable fate.

Soldiers in uniforms breaking down the doors and storming in.

Christina grabbing my hand and pulling me away.

Her neck severed in an instant.

Blood spurting from the cut like a fountain, staining everything around it.

Me, standing there blankly, drenched in that crimson spray.

Raymond, muttering her name repeatedly, pouring divine power into her lifeless body.

Soon, Raymond too was struck down, riddled with arrows, his body resembling a pincushion as he collapsed.

His final, hate-filled words directed at me.

A figure emerging from the shadows, grabbing my arm.

The way his eyes scanned me up and down as he murmured indifferently.

Words that still clung to my mind like an unshakable nightmare.

“It’s your fault.”

“You might be useful.”

“It’s your fault.”

“You might be useful.”

Over and over.

“It’s your fault.”

“You might be useful.”

Stop.

Please, just stop.

I clasped my head with both hands as if trying to keep it from being torn apart.

My breathing was ragged.

I couldn’t distinguish whether the excruciating headache and the all-encompassing pain in my body were due to my physical condition or a trauma response triggered by the flashbacks.

The duchess was screaming in earnest, using my body as collateral.

Why was his name being brought up now, of all times—when I was already at my lowest, both physically and mentally?

The absurdity of this situation, which seemed almost intentional, made me want to curse out loud.

As I tightened my grip on my head, my hand slipped from the doorknob, and I lost my balance.

The girl, who had been watching me with a startled expression, quickly reached out to steady me.

“You’re burning up, just as I thought…”

Half of that is because of you, I thought bitterly.

Her worried gaze, as if shocked by the heat radiating from my arm, felt almost offensive.

I knew it wasn’t her fault, but I couldn’t help feeling that way.

Grinding my teeth, I shoved her away roughly.

Given the bruises covering my arms, I doubted I had much strength to push her, but she immediately let go, perhaps afraid of causing me more harm.

She sighed as she watched me fall flat onto the floor.

I sat there, taking deep breaths, trying to untangle the chaotic mess in my mind.

Trying to hold back the duchess, who seemed ready to burst out at any moment.

She was right.

I am Remia Adelian.

A person who once prided herself on dignity and honor, someone who held her identity as a noblewoman above all else.

And this girl before me was essentially my guest.

In that case, it was only right to welcome her properly and present myself as composed.

Though, of course, it was already far too late for that.

Feigning calm, I spoke.

“Come in.”

“…Ah. Yes, excuse me.”

She stepped into my room cautiously, her movements careful.

I hooked my arm onto the doorknob again and pulled myself upright.

This time, I couldn’t simply crawl—there was no way I would let her see me like that.

I lowered my injured left foot to the ground and shifted my weight onto it.

Twice, I faltered, the pain giving way to a numbing sensation that spread through my leg.

It felt as though something was going seriously wrong in real-time, but I maintained my facade of calmness as I limped into the room.

The girl looked at me with concern, hesitant to approach, likely because of how I had brushed her off earlier.

I gestured toward a chair and looked around my shelves for anything to offer her.

Offering nothing, no matter how cheap, would be impolite.

Unsurprisingly, there was only dust; I had never stocked the shelves.

I should have asked the maid for something.

Brushing the dust off my hands, I turned back to her.

“Sorry, I… don’t have anything to offer.”

“…That’s okay.”

A strained groan escaped my lips, betraying how much standing was taking its toll.

I needed to sit down before my legs gave out completely.

I dragged a chair over to sit across from her but missed it three times before giving up and collapsing onto the bed instead.

Bending over reminded me of the pain in my ribs, making it impossible to exert any strength.

Once again, I was struck by how weak this body truly was.

“Hah… would it be alright if we talked while I sit here?”

“Of course. And, please, don’t worry about what I said earlier.

I felt like I had to say something to get in here.”

Her previously assertive demeanor gave way to visible unease.

Was my condition worse than she had imagined?

I had tried so hard to appear fine, but maybe all my efforts were wasted.

Not that it mattered now.

I decided to steer the conversation toward her reason for coming.

“So, what is it you wanted to talk about?

If you’ve heard about me from Hans, your impression can’t be a good one.”

I didn’t believe for a second that Hans would share any positive stories about me.

Not that there were any to begin with.

Hans, who had suffered at my hands, would have long since grown sick of me.

Just thinking about him made my breathing unsteady again.

It would be better not to dwell on him.

Still, I was curious why this girl, who seemed to be his friend, was showing such interest in me.

If her reasons were similar to Ariana’s, I might actually understand.

“I saw you being mistreated.

I overheard the students’ sneers and gossip. And then, when you didn’t show up to class, I grew worried.”

“Worried? What, did you think I was going to kill myself?”

“…Yes. That thought crossed my mind.”

“That’s… quite a pessimistic stretch.”

“…”

“And why didn’t you intervene when I was being bullied? Were you scared?”

Her response, while not hostile, carried an unmistakable note of pity, making my chest tighten. I shot back sharply, my frustration evident.

Even so, I couldn’t deny that she was human—different from the garbage that littered the academy.

Why was she acting this way toward me?

“Because I didn’t realize it at the time.”

I had hoped my barbed words would drive her away, but once again, my wishes went unfulfilled.

“Hans said you wouldn’t care about anything that happened to you.

He said you were twisted but strong because of it.

But after meeting you yesterday, I realized that wasn’t true at all.”

“…He said that about me?”

Her words stopped my train of thought.

I was learning a lot of new things.

I never would have imagined Hans saw me that way.

The duchess, who was as mentally fragile as they come, had always tried to hide her vulnerability behind a thorny exterior.

The disparity in perception was startling.

It explained many of Hans’ actions, but so what?

Time had passed. Events had unfolded.

Nothing could change now.

I nodded.

I had learned that she was human and what Hans thought of me.

That was all I needed to know.

“If that’s all, then I understand, so please leave now.

You came because you were worried and wanted to check on me, right?

As you can see, I’m alive and doing relatively fine.”

I tried to convey my thoughts with a slightly firm tone.

The girl stared at me blankly, her lips twitching as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t bring herself to.

If this doesn’t work, what should I say next?

Should I start hysterically screaming that I’ll die if she doesn’t leave?

No, that would only make her stay out of concern, thinking I was even more unstable. 

Maybe I should consider something more drastic—like showing her blood flowing in real time.

The shock of it might scare her away.

But even as I repeated these nonsensical thoughts, her answer was worse than I could have imagined.

“You’re right, I did come to check on you…

But I still can’t leave.

You seem far too… unstable, Your Grace.”

Worse yet, she looked like she was about to cry.

If the duchess were an ordinary person capable of harsh words in response to this, I wouldn’t be suffering so much now.

What is she even talking about?

The reflection of the duchess in the mirror on the opposite wall was entirely emotionless.

Pale and haggard, sure, but those features only made her face appear more like that of an expressionless corpse.

Was her comment figurative? Or was she just highly empathetic?

Either way, she was meddling far too much.

Despite my thoughts, all I could do was repeat myself like a broken record.

“I don’t need pity.

Just being alone is enough for me right now.

Really, I’m fine, so please leave.”

Instead of responding, the girl raised her hand and grasped my right wrist, which had been resting on the bed.

The duchess usually ran cold, but with her body burning up now, the girl’s touch felt like ice against my skin.

“And you’re clearly unwell…”

“Let go of me…”

I tried to pull my hand away with what little strength I had.

Instead of letting go, she grabbed my left wrist with her other hand and gently pushed me down onto the bed.

In an instant, she was on top of me, pinning me down with her weight.

I twisted and turned, but her grip on my wrists held firm.

Was she even human?

This position brought back unpleasant memories.

I started trembling, taking short, shallow breaths that echoed with a hitching, nervous rhythm. I clenched my eyes shut, imagining all the terrible things that might come next.

Then I felt it—the warm, soothing sensation I had experienced thousands of times over the years, a feeling that was both comforting and terrifying in a different sense.

“I’m sorry. I’m going to heal you, even if it’s a little forceful.

You’re in such bad shape that it might become serious if I don’t.”

It was healing magic.

The screaming pain in my body began to subside.

Unlike the rough, overwhelming healing I had endured in the organization, her touch was gentle, precise, and unfamiliar.

She seemed to be a skilled mage, better than most.

Of course, knowing she was acquainted with Hans meant she couldn’t be ordinary.

At least she wasn’t someone like Ariana, who was trash.

As my tension eased, I exhaled a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. 

Seeing this, the girl made a slightly perplexed expression, perhaps surprised by how scared I had been.

“My name is Sena Blomberg,” she said suddenly.

The fact that I hadn’t even asked for her name until now struck me as a bit shocking. But even so, it didn’t seem like the appropriate thing to say at this moment.

Before I could react to her introduction, she continued speaking.

“…I’ll visit you often from now on.”

At that moment, I realized all my efforts to drive her away had been in vain.

Why is she doing this to me?