Lyra woke up with a throbbing headache, blurry vision, and a mild fever that, though not dangerously high, left her feeling nauseous and weak. Her stomach churned, and she found herself unable to stop vomiting.
Today was the day of their uncle's funeral, and both Delilah and Mary had to attend. Despite Delilah's protests, Lyra insisted that she go. She even asked Delilah to bring back medicine from the local doctor, refusing to rely on the royal physician.
The royal doctor, hired by Lady Medea, was a recent addition to the palace, while the former doctor had been dismissed. He now worked at a local clinic, and despite his departure, the princesses secretly continued to rely on his care whenever they were ill. Lyra trusted him completely, especially after she discovered her father had been poisoned. She switched his prescribed medication, secretly giving him medicine from the local doctor, although her father remained unaware.
Delilah felt torn. She wanted to stay and care for Lyra, but she knew she had to follow her request. Lyra had also asked her not to tell anyone about her condition, not wanting to make a fuss. Even Astrid, her older sister, was unaware, as she had gone to bed late after taking a sleeping pill. Lyra's request was clear, so Delilah informed Solon that Lyra was occupied and promised to return quickly.
As Delilah and Mary left, Lyra, still in bed, tried to drift off to sleep. But soon, an overwhelming thirst hit her. She turned to the bedside table, only to find an empty jug and glass. With a groan, she realized she'd have to go downstairs to the kitchen for water. In moments like this, she longed for the comforts of her former life.
She sat up, feeling lightheaded. Breathing deeply to steady herself, she slowly got to her feet. After a few unsteady steps, she paused. Her heart raced, and she struggled to breathe as tears welled up in her eyes—perhaps from the fever. Her vision blurred, and her legs felt weak. She reached for the railing of the stairs, hoping for support, but her breath became even more labored.
"I... don't feel so good..." she murmured to herself, contemplating how a drink might help.
As she attempted another step, her vision blurred further, and a sharp pain shot through her head. Her strength drained, and she felt herself falter. The last thing she saw before collapsing was a silhouette of someone calling her name.
"Lyra!"
The voice was unmistakably male, laced with urgency and concern. But before she could process the sound, darkness overtook her.
Dylan, sitting in his room reading one of Lyra's books, couldn't help but notice how similar the story felt to his own life. Was it just a coincidence? Or was he simply letting his fantasies run wild, wishing to be the male lead in Lyra's life?
He set the book aside, hiding it with his other documents, and stood up abruptly.
"Xavier's right," he muttered. "I should just go and talk to her directly instead of overthinking this."
Determined, he made his way to Lyra's palace. As he entered, the quietness struck him as odd. Were the princesses still asleep? Was it a bad time?
He almost turned back but decided to at least inquire about Lyra's whereabouts. As he wandered through the palace, he called out, "Is anyone here? Hello?"
Eventually, he made his way to the main lobby and froze. There, standing weakly, was Lyra—her face flushed, her nightgown clinging to her as she trembled. It was clear she was struggling to breathe. Before he could fully process the scene, she collapsed.
Without a second thought, Dylan rushed to her side. If he hadn't acted so quickly, Lyra would have tumbled down the stairs. As it was, he caught her just in time.
"You're burning up! Lyra..." he exclaimed, panic creeping into his voice. He gently placed his hand on her forehead, then her neck, trying to gauge her temperature. She didn't respond. She had lost consciousness.
Instinctively, he lifted her into his arms and began moving toward the exit, planning to take her to the royal clinic.
But just as he reached the door, Delilah arrived, dragging a doctor along behind her. She froze, stunned by the sight of Lyra in Dylan's arms.
"Apologies for being late," she murmured, rushing to help.
Dylan carried Lyra back to her bedroom, where the doctor immediately began to treat her. Delilah and Astrid, who had finally woken up, felt guilty for not being there sooner. They worked together, and Dylan stayed by Lyra's side, overseeing everything.
Thankfully, Lyra regained consciousness far sooner than expected, her fever broken and her condition improving. She felt much better, though still a bit weak. The doctor advised her to rest for a day or two, and as he left, Dylan remained, watching over her.
Lyra was surprised to see him there, recalling that he must have been the last person she saw before she lost consciousness. Though her body was recovering, her mind couldn't shake the embarrassment of having Dylan see her in such a state. Her room, too, felt shabby in comparison to the rest of the palace. Despite the exterior grandeur, Lyra's room hadn't been renovated in years. When she thought about it, she couldn't help but feel a sense of shame, especially with Dylan in the room.
She tugged the covers over her nose, hiding her flushed face. With her eyes peeking over the edge of the blanket, she whispered, "...Thank you so much for all your help..."
Dylan's response was gentle. "Rather than thanking me, it's better to tell someone when you're ill. It's not good to suffer in silence."
Lyra's eyes flickered. She had heard him say this before. Blushing, she nodded. "Okay... I'll remember."
Despite her hint for him to leave, Dylan didn't move. Instead, it was Astrid who spoke up.
"I'll make you some special tea to help your health! I'll be back soon."
"I'll do it, your highness," Delilah offered.
Lyra, not wanting to be left alone with Dylan, grabbed the hem of Delilah's clothing. "Don't go," she said, her voice weak.
Clearing her throat, she added, "I want to take a bath."
The suggestion caused concern. "Are you sure? You should ask the doctor first," Dylan said.
Astrid nodded, adding, "I've heard it's not good to bathe while you're unwell."
"I'm fine! I really need a bath," Lyra insisted, sitting up despite her weakness.
"It won't hurt if you wait until tomorrow," Astrid commented, but Lyra was firm.
"I said I'm fine. Delilah, prepare the bath. I want to change clothes too."
Delilah exchanged a glance between Astrid and Dylan, then sighed. Something seemed to click in her mind, and she bowed. "As you wish, your highness."
Astrid, now exasperated, turned to leave. "Lyra, don't be stubborn!"
Lyra, still determined, shot back, "Just go. Didn't you say you were making tea? Go already. Shoo!"
Dylan shook his head with a soft smile, watching Astrid leave before turning back to Lyra. "Are you sure about this?" he asked gently.
"Just go!" Lyra exclaimed, tossing a pillow at them both.
Dylan caught it mid-air, gently placing it on the table. "Okay, we're leaving. Don't worry."
As they left, Lyra settled back into her bed, feeling a mixture of relief and embarrassment, but also grateful for the care she was receiving.
After the others had left, Lyra turned to find Delilah gazing at her with a look of fondness.
"What?" Lyra asked, her curiosity piqued.
Delilah clasped her hands together, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, Your Highness! You are just too adorable!" she exclaimed.
Lyra scrunched her nose in confusion, to which Delilah added, "You were embarrassed about your appearance in front of His Highness Dylan, weren't you? You wanted to bathe and change clothes. Oh, how cute it is to be in love!"
Lyra blinked in surprise. "What-"
Before she could finish her sentence, Delilah was already turning to leave, nodding sagely as she walked away. "I support you, from the bottom of my heart. Don't you worry!"
Later, Lyra's room had been cleaned, and she had taken a refreshing bath, changing into elegant, modest clothes. Her hair, previously unkempt, was now neatly brushed.
She sat in her sitting area, gazing out the window at the setting sun, the golden light just beginning to dip below the horizon. The birds chirped merrily on the tree that partially blocked the view, while the wind gently played with her hair. Lyra sat in silence, lost in thought, reflecting on everything that had happened in the past few days.
A sudden knock at the door broke her reverie. Two quick taps, followed by the sound of the door creaking open. "Come in," she called politely.
Lyra's eyes widened when she saw Dylan enter, holding a tray with tea and refreshments. "Why are you..."
Before she could finish her question, she noticed Astrid and Delilah outside the door. They both gave her a playful wink and a thumbs-up before the door quietly shut behind them. It seemed Dylan hadn't noticed their presence, as he set the tray down on the table, glancing briefly at Lyra as she stared at the door.
"Is someone there?" he asked, sensing her gaze.
"Ah... well... I was just wondering where my sister is," Lyra said quickly, her gaze shifting back to him. "And why are you the one bringing this? Where's Delilah?"
"They had some work to do," Dylan explained. "I offered to help, but they insisted that, since I'm a guest, I should sit and have tea with you instead."
Lyra chuckled awkwardly. "I'm sorry they made you carry this."
"Why apologize? It's no big deal," Dylan replied with a light smile. "I carry trays like this all the time back home."
Lyra's teasing nature kicked in as she smirked, "Why? Did you work as a waiter?"
Dylan laughed, shaking his head. "If doing your own work means you're a waiter, then maybe I am one."
Lyra giggled, though a slight sense of discomfort lingered. "Don't you have anything else to do today? I feel like I've already taken up too much of your time."
Dylan waved off her concern. "Don't worry about it. The meeting got canceled, so I've got nothing planned for the rest of the day."
"I see," Lyra replied, feeling guilty. "I'm sorry about canceling the meeting. And I also won't be able to go with you to the construction site tomorrow... or meet with the traders or workers..."
"You apologize so much," Dylan said with a laugh. "Stop it. None of that is your fault. I'll handle everything."
A brief silence settled between them as they both sipped their tea. Lyra, feeling awkward, spoke up. "Since you're here, can we go over the project details?"
"No," Dylan replied with a slight grin. "You need to rest."
"I'm resting," Lyra countered, a playful glint in her eyes.
"Good. Then no talk of work."
"Please, I'll die of boredom if we keep talking about nothing. All we've been doing is looking at maps and reading. I just want to contribute more. After all... this is my first project."
Her last words were barely above a whisper, but Dylan caught them. He couldn't help but be moved by the sincerity in her voice. With a sigh, he relented, "Fine. Where are the documents? I'll get them for you. You sit and relax, and no overdoing it. It'll only be for a short while."
"Thank you! I knew I could count on you!" Lyra exclaimed, her face lighting up for the first time that day. Dylan couldn't help but notice how her earlier exhaustion had lifted with her bright smile.
Dylan's face flushed slightly as he awkwardly turned away. "Where are the documents?"
"Over there, on my table. Just grab everything—books, papers, anything in that pile."
"Sure, ma'am."
He moved toward the table, but as he picked up the pile of documents, a single book fell to the floor. "Oh, my bad. Let me get that."
As he bent down to retrieve the book, it was open, and Dylan, intrigued, couldn't help but glance at the pages. The words on the pages caught his attention, and before he knew it, he was absorbed in reading.
Lyra, sensing something odd, tilted her head. "What are you reading?"
Dylan turned toward her, holding the book up. "This. It fell open."
Lyra's eyes went wide. She immediately jumped to her feet and reached for the book, unaware of how close she was standing to Dylan. He raised the book high above his head, just out of her reach.
"What is this?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper.
"...Something that doesn't concern you. Give it back."
Dylan studied her expression carefully as he moved closer, handing the book back to her with a quiet whisper, "I want to bring them all to their knees."
Lyra froze, her eyes locking with his. She could feel her heart race. Dylan had read her diary. He knew it was hers.
He smiled slightly, his curiosity evident. "You wrote this, didn't you? What is this?"
Lyra quickly looked away, her cheeks flushed. "It's nothing... just my thoughts running wild... I didn't mean any of it."
Dylan, still smiling, teased, "Of course, you didn't. If you meant it, you would have given up your position as queen and run away instead."
"Are you being sarcastic?" Lyra asked, her voice tense.
"What do you think?" Dylan countered.
Lyra took a few steps back, mumbling, "Look... maybe I sometimes think like that, but that doesn't mean I want it."
"In that case, what do you want?"
Lyra hesitated, her gaze falling to the floor. "I... nothing. And don't make it a habit to read things I haven't given you permission to."
"I can't promise that," Dylan said with a sly grin, making Lyra blush even deeper.
"Did you read my novel, too?" she asked, trying to change the subject.
"I... uh..."
Lyra cut him off, shaking her hands in embarrassment. "Forget it. You can read it, but just don't talk to me about it. It's... embarrassing."
He smiled at her again. "The book is really well written. I don't understand why you're so embarrassed. Be more confident."
"It's not that... But let's focus on what we were going to discuss."
"Alright," Dylan agreed.
Lyra handed him some documents. "We've already gone over the bridge plan and agreed on the contributions from each party. The economic plan and other details will be discussed in the next meeting."
Dylan nodded as he flipped through the pages. Lyra then asked, "Should we also discuss the labor force during the meeting the day after tomorrow, or should we do that when we're in Gaia for the site review?"
"It's better to discuss it beforehand," Dylan replied. "Even if we do it in Gaia, we'll need a rough estimate to present."
"True. So, will you be handling that?"
"Actually, I won't be at the meeting," Dylan said, glancing up from the papers.
"Why?"
"I'm leaving early the day after tomorrow. There's some work back home that I need to attend to, so the rest of the council members and I—except for Romero—will leave early. The scholars will stay until everything's finalized."
Lyra's expression faltered. "I didn't know you were leaving so soon."
"I was going to tell you, but I didn't know how."
"Does Father and Uncle Nabal know?"
"Your father knows. I ran into him at breakfast. I'll inform Duke Nabal tonight."
Lyra nodded, understanding. She had barely spent any time with him, especially considering how many years had passed since they last met. She couldn't help but feel a tinge of disappointment.
Noticing her expression, Dylan added, "Also, I wanted to invite you and Astrid to my birthday party. I hope you can come. No excuses. I've already spoken to your father about it. I'll send a formal invitation through Solon."
"Through Solon?"
"Yes. I talked to him, and he agreed to deliver my letters to you. If you want, you can send letters to me through him, too."
"Sure. That sounds great!"
Lyra smiled brightly, her excitement contagious. Dylan, feeling a sense of relief, smiled back.
"If you're leaving soon, would you like to have dinner here? It'll be a sort of farewell dinner. I'll invite Aunt Katherine and Sir Xavier too, if you don't mind."
"That sounds wonderful," Dylan replied.
Just then, Astrid entered the room, having knocked several times without anyone noticing. She immediately heard the conversation and remarked, "It sounds lovely, but Aunt Medea will definitely throw a grand farewell party. We can't ignore that."
Lyra sighed. "You're right."
"I'll tell her I'm busy, and she won't hold it," Astrid offered.
"That won't be enough. Father will want you to have a grand farewell," Lyra murmured.
"Yes, you deserve a grand farewell," Astrid agreed. "Forget what I said earlier."
"How about we have a little get-together after the party? Just like old times, a small gathering after the main event. What do you think?"
"That sounds perfect," Lyra responded enthusiastically.
"Great!" Astrid agreed.
Lyra smiled as she added, "Oh, by the way, Dylan invited us to his birthday party."
"Really?" Astrid replied with a raised eyebrow.
The conversation continued, and by the time dinner arrived, both Lyra and Dylan were in a lighter mood. They laughed and chatted, and as predicted, the next evening, a grand farewell party for Dylan was already in the works.