Melo was in a terrible mood.
Originally, she was already quite agitated because of the incident with Alet taking Vivian’s medicine.
To rid herself of this damned negative emotion, after assigning tasks to the others, she returned to her room and buried herself in a book.
Time slipped by as she read.
On normal days, Alet would have dinner ready at precisely half past five, and then come to call her.
But tonight, Melo received no such reminder from Alet.
It was only when she started to feel hungry that she realized how much time had passed.
When Melo finally emerged from her room, it was already past six o’clock in the evening. The sun was hanging at the edge of the horizon.
Only when she reached the dining hall did she discover that it was completely empty.
No candles lit, no prepared blood, and not a trace of Alet.
So hungry she could hardly stand it, Melo had no choice but to go to the kitchen herself, awkwardly retrieving a cup of chilled blood and forcing herself to drink it.
“Absolutely disgusting… not even a thousandth as good as warm blood.”
With her brow deeply furrowed, Melo gulped down the icy liquid.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to drink it warm—she simply didn’t know how.
The process of warming blood was quite particular; if not handled just right, the taste would become truly terrible.
In Melo’s eyes, such things were always the responsibility of the servants. Doing it herself was a disgrace to the dignity of the Bloodkin.
All at once, the negative feelings from the various events piled up in Melo’s heart.
She gazed out the window at the crimson, dying sun, her blood-red eyes filled with displeasure.
“Even going to Dice Town for supplies, a round trip never took more than four hours.”
“Tonight, I gave you some extra time to rest, and yet you insist on staying out with that elf…”
“Yesterday, you took that witch’s medicine; today, you’re out with that elf again, not coming back.”
“I want to see just what sort of trick you’re playing at!”
With this thought, Melo left the stronghold on the spot.
The fading rays of sunset fell upon her, making her whole body feel a wave of discomfort.
The Bloodkin of Yunlan Continent might fear the light, but sunlight wouldn’t instantly turn them to ash.
Melo recited an incantation, beginning to use her magic to pinpoint Alet’s location.
“Found you.”
“Still dawdling in Dice Town at this hour… let’s see what you and that elf are up to!”
The method Melo used to lock onto Alet’s position at this moment…
Was, of course, the blood-red “Bloodkin Mark” on him.
“Huh? Why is this getting brighter?”
Fruff squatted by the bed, staring curiously at the crescent-shaped mark on Alet’s neck.
She’d noticed it earlier while wiping him down, but hadn’t paid it any mind.
Now, however, the mark was shimmering, glowing with a crimson light.
“This mark… seems like it’s related to the Captain.”
“Maybe it has some kind of healing function, automatically treating Sir Knight when it detects something’s wrong with his health?”
Thinking this, Fruff held her breath and focused intently on Alet for a good ten seconds.
“Definitely not that.”
“If only it really had that kind of function.”
At this moment, Alet’s fever still hadn’t gone down. Although the pain on his face had lessened slightly, he still looked utterly miserable.
“Sir Knight refuses to take his medicine…”
“Could I try sneaking it into him while he’s unconscious?”
The thought flashed through Fruff’s mind for only a moment before she dismissed it herself.
“No, no, not possible. Even if he doesn’t choke, if Sir Knight finds out later, he’d definitely dislike me!”
“Sigh… how worrisome.”
Even so, Fruff had no other options.
She hadn’t touched a single bite of the meal she’d bought earlier. It all sat untouched by Alet’s bedside.
Now, the only thing she could do was take out her mandolin and sing the “Song of Life’s Cycle” over and over again.
Though Fruff knew that repeating the song would make its effects weaker each time, she had no other choice.
Meanwhile, Alet lay in bed.
Every organ in his body cried out in pain and discomfort.
Every inch of his flesh was trapped in a mire of ache and weakness, his head feeling as heavy as if filled with lead, unable to so much as lift it.
But worse than the weakness of his body was the nature of his illness.
The persistent high fever at this point threatened to burn his mind to a crisp.
The Heavy Knight had completely lost the ability to think, locked in a half-awake, half-dreaming state.
“…It smells so good.”
The aroma of food at the bedside slowly drifted into Alet’s nose.
Normally, a cold or fever should dull a person’s sense of smell.
But for Alet, who hadn’t tasted good food in ten years, this was different.
In that instant, his blissful childhood began to replay before his mind’s eye in the haze of fever.
Alet was his parents’ only son, much loved by both.
After becoming Melo’s servant, even when ill, he could only tough it out after some simple treatment.
Yet now, he lay on a warm bed, surrounded by the scent of food.
Vaguely, it even seemed that someone was looking after him with great care.
“Am I… home?”
That’s right—home.
Other than that place he could never return to, Alet couldn’t imagine anywhere else he’d be treated like this.
“Home again…”
“How wonderful.”
Fruff finally stopped plucking the strings.
She had been playing for a full fifteen minutes and her throat was getting tired. No matter what, she needed a break.
“Oh, I still haven’t eaten the cake I bought. I totally forgot.”
Her eyes brightened. She immediately stood, walked over to Alet’s bedside, and reached for the cake.
But just then, perhaps as a result of her singing, Alet, who had been motionless, suddenly let out a faint groan.
Then, his body moved slightly, as if trying to turn over.
“Sir Knight!”
Seeing that Alet was responding, Fruff immediately abandoned the cake and leaned over the bed, calling out to him.
“How are you? Are you feeling any better?!”
Alet, stimulated by Fruff’s voice, trembled slightly beneath his eyelids, then slowly opened his eyes.
The moment he looked at Fruff, his pupils quivered.
“I… I missed you so much.”
“!”
Fruff never imagined that the first words out of Alet’s mouth upon waking would be those.
In an instant, a flame called shyness blazed up in her heart, sending the blush all the way to her ears.
“Si-Sir Knight, y-you…”
“I, I…”
“We’re not even at that stage yet, isn’t saying something like this a little too…”
Just as Fruff’s mind was starting to go wild, Alet’s lips parted once again, and he slowly uttered two shocking words—
“Mother.”