My ears were ringing, and my throat was parched. I was sore all over and felt weak. When I opened my eyes, a worried girl hovered over me. Her eyes were red and swollen, her lips moving soundlessly at first.
"What?" I croaked.
"How are you feeling?" she asked gently, her voice thick with worry. She clumsily reached out to check my temperature. Her hands were visibly shaking.
"What happened?" I asked, trying to sit up, but she softly pushed me back into a lying position.
"You fainted, my lady," she said, her eyes brimming with fresh tears. I pointed at the pitcher on the coffee table, and she rushed to pour me a cup. She helped me sit up and gently brought the cup to my lips.
"You were throwing up when we got here. You even had a nosebleed," she said, now openly crying. "I shouldn't have taken you to the capital."
"It's not your fault, Lily," I comforted her. "This was all my doing."
"It was her fault," barked William as he entered, followed by a man carrying a suitcase.
"I was the one who left for the village. She followed me because she was worried," I defended her.
"She should have stopped you!" he snapped, and both Lilliana and I flinched. He was fuming—veins prominent, eyes burning with fury.
"How are you feeling, Lady Iris?" the man accompanying him asked.
"I feel like I got run over by a train," I muttered. The man blinked in confusion. Oh right. No trains here. "I mean, I'm sore," I clarified. He nodded and took out a notebook.
"Has this ever happened before?" he asked, lifting the quilt.
"I don't know. I can't remember parts of my life," I admitted. Well, I can't remember anything before my transmigration.
"Did you have an accident?"
"I don't know. I can't recall one." How did her soul even leave her body?
"What happened before you passed out?"
"I had a headache. Then I got dizzy."
"Do you still have the headache?"
"No, just soreness," I said.
He went to his suitcase, retrieved a box, and handed it to William, whispering something before stepping out.
"You should leave now that she's awake. The head maid is waiting for you," William told Lilliana.
"I need her by my side," I said quickly.
"She put you in harm's way," he growled.
"I forced her. It's entirely my fault," I said. I couldn't let her be punished. She was the only one who treated me like a person in this place.
"I promise not to leave again. Just... don't punish her," I pleaded.
He sighed, then called the guard at the door. "Inform the head maid that the maid has been forgiven and is not to be punished." Well, that was easy.
He handed the box to Lilliana and then dismissed her. "You better keep your part of the deal," he grumbled.
"I will," I promised.
Then he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a very familiar piece of paper. He walked to the fireplace and tossed it into the flames. His expression twisted with pain and hostility. My heart skipped.
Then he walked to the door... and locked it.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up.
He strode toward me with unsettling purpose. I panicked, flinging the comforter off and stumbling out of bed.
"What do you think you're doing, Sir William?" I asked, backing away. He looked irresistibly delicious—I hated that. I shook my head. Focus, woman.
Before I could react, he was standing over me. His jaw clenched—and damn, why did he have to look so hot doing that? Heat crept up my cheeks.
"Do you have any idea how scared I was when I found you unconscious on the street?" he choked out.
Guilt twisted in my stomach. I reached out to touch his cheek, and he leaned into my hand. Realizing what I was doing, I pulled away quickly.
"Who is Lady Grace?" I asked.
He stepped back, eyes searching mine.
"She's the crown prince's fiancée," he finally said.
"Then what am I? Who am I?" My voice trembled.
He glanced at the baby's breath flowers resting on the vanity. His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath.
"How did you get my letter?" he asked instead.
"Just answer me, damn it!" I yelled.
"Were you in my room?" he countered, stepping forward again.
"What are you all hiding from me?" I broke down. Hot tears spilled freely. He wiped them with his hand, then pulled me into a hug.
"I'm sorry," he whispered. *For what? For lying? For hiding something? For caring?