How the Villainous Consort Avoids His Death Ending - Chapter 42.1
“You want to spend some quiet time alone with the Grand Consort. Will I get in your way?”
I wanted to ask if he meant while I was picking barnacles, but no one could argue when the Grand Duke spoke.
The attendants, flustered and unsure what to do, eventually gave up. One by one, they stepped back and retreated, vanishing from view.
Even so, Tristan continued pulling off the moss.
“……”
“……”
So I went back to removing barnacles myself.
Fragments of shells fell onto the sunlit puddles, sparkling in the light. The calm and peaceful time stretched on endlessly.
It was strange. As Tristan had said, the flustered feeling I had when facing him, the tangled thoughts, gradually began to settle. I wondered how much time had passed.
Suddenly, Tristan stopped and looked at me. His voice, as if carefully drawn out after long hesitation, reached my ears.
“I am sorry.”
I flinched and looked at him.
“…Yes?”
“I was too stubborn.”
“Your Highness.”
Tristan’s low, gentle voice carried softly on the sea breeze.
“You were right. I was emotional. I do not fail to understand your intentions.”
“No, it is not so…”
“But let us think a little more together. Perhaps we can find another way. If there is truly no other option, then I will follow your plan. I promise.”
“……”
“I loudly claimed that I was good at trusting you, but then I immediately opposed you. Can you forgive me just this once?”
“Tristan.”
For some reason, my throat tightened.
Tristan had done nothing wrong. In the end, what we wanted was the same. Only the path we took was slightly different.
I lowered my head and murmured softly.
“I am sorry. I pressed too hard without understanding Your Highness’s feelings.”
I felt a little of the tension inside me loosen.
For a while, we sat under the hull of the ship, in the middle of the dock.
Our fingertips were covered in barnacle dust, and fragments littered the floor. Our sweat-soaked clothes and the spot where we sat were damp and rough, but it did not feel uncomfortable.
A long breeze blew for a moment, then ceased.
“You said something last time.”
“What did I say?”
“That Hezekia could become a prosperous territory.”
“Yes, I did.”
Sunlight reflected softly off the water. Tristan, gazing at it, gave a faint, bitter smile.
“I hope it will come to that. Someday.”
“…Of course. It will naturally happen.”
Tristan’s shadow stretched long beneath the ship, slowly overlapping with other shadows as the sun dipped.
I did not know if my quiet words of reassurance reached him, but I could see a faint smile forming on his composed profile.
❖ ❖ ❖
A few days later, an urgent message arrived from the harbor.
Several sailors who had recently disembarked from the fleet were suffering from high fevers and severe abdominal pain.
At first, they and their comrades thought it was just fatigue or seasickness. But while staying in Hezekia, vomiting and diarrhea continued, and some even lost consciousness from dehydration, quickly turning the situation serious.
Tristan furrowed his brows and asked a sailor who had come to report.
“What did the doctor say?”
“It is difficult to determine the exact disease, Your Highness. Moreover, since the sailors who were on the same ship are all affected, it seems to be contagious…”
“Contagious?”
Tristan raised an eyebrow. My heart sank.
“Yes. For now, under the doctor’s instructions, they have been quarantined.”
Listening carefully to the cautious report, I fell into thought.
I did not recall any recent news of an epidemic in Hezekia. Large-scale plagues had once threatened the territory, but those were at least ten years in the distant past.
Furthermore, this seemed less severe than a typical epidemic. I went over the sailor’s description of symptoms once more.
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“You want to spend some quiet time alone with the Grand Consort. Will I get in your way?” I want to spend…> and >You will get in my way>