Elliot's POV

"Hey, did you hear? Did you hear?"

"About what? About what?"

"About that boy! About that blond young boy!"

"The Duke's son?"

"Yes! It turns out the rumors were true!"

"Which rumors? Which rumors?"

"The rumors about how sickly he is, idiot! Have you been living under a rock? It's a very hot gossip topic in the Tarragon Duchy right now!"

"Is it? Is it? How come?"

"Well, rumor has it he fainted during a visit to the royal family his father the Duke had taken him on! It is said the Duke was so ashamed and humiliated!"

"Having a sickly son can't be easy! Does that mean the future Duke of the Tarragon Duchy will be a sickly, frail man?"

"That's the thing! Some aren't so sure the poor young boy will live long enough to inherit the Duchy!"

"Oh no! I feel so bad for the Duke, what terrible luck to have a sickly heir like that!"

"Right? Right? And imagine if he fainted here, in his father's mistress's house? Can you imagine the scandal? It would be all anyone talks about!"

"You sound as if you're hoping that would happen... And speaking of that, why did the Duke bring his kids over here? Do noblemen usually take their kids to their mistresses' homes?"

"Not as far as I know! Our kind Lady Kathryn must be so stressed having them here!"

"Oh, definitely. She doesn't need any more trouble—let's just hope the boy doesn't do anything that'll cause her anymore grief!"

- A conversation between two maids Elliot overheard by accident years ago.

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Darkness. That was all Elliot could perceive at first—an endless void where time and sensation felt irrelevant. He couldn’t think, couldn’t feel; it was an empty, weightless space.

He knew somewhere deep down that he should be afraid, but fear was impossible when there was no awareness of his body or mind.

Gradually, however, the stillness faded, and his senses began to return. The first thing he felt was the heaviness—his body weighed down, as if invisible chains were pulling him into the bed. His mind was a thick fog, a haze of scattered, half-formed thoughts.

So I'm alive...

He should feel relief—maybe even joy—but for some reason, there was no happiness in knowing this. Death had always seemed sad, but Elliot wasn’t entirely convinced that living would bring him much joy either.

If I have to see my sister with HIM again, I'd rather not wake up...

But regardless what he wanted, the boy could feel that his body was waking up from its slumber.

I should open my eyes, I think I can do THAT much at least.

With deliberate slowness, Elliot forced his eyelids apart, leaving behind the comforting darkness. The blurry image of the ceiling above greeted him. Sunlight filtered through the windows, casting warm streaks across the room. He was still in Devereaux Hall.

Elliot blinked, trying to focus, his heartbeat quickening as he struggled to piece together the fragmented memories. His head ached dully, but the confusion gnawed at him more than any physical discomfort.

"Oh... right, I remember now."

I fainted while talking to Lucas.

Elliot felt saddened for a second, until a sound—a soft rustle of movement caught his attention. His gaze shifted, and he saw a figure sitting near the door, slumped in a chair. A boy, with tousled brown hair, dressed in servant’s garb.

It was Samuel, Elliot didn't know the boy very well, but he does see him around with Devin every now and then.

"Samuel?" Elliot's voice was a raspy whisper, and the sound of it startled even him.

The boy looked up, his face brightening instantly. "Master Elliot!" Samuel shot up from the chair, nearly knocking it over in his haste. His eyes were wide with relief and excitement. "You're awake! You're finally awake!"

Elliot blinked again, trying to sit up, but his limbs felt too weak, his body still heavy with fatigue. "What... what happened? Why am I here?"

"You fainted," Samuel explained, stepping closer. His tone was eager yet careful, as if afraid Elliot might slip back into unconsciousness. "It happened yesterday, you've been out of it for an entire day!. Everyone was so worried! The whole household went into panic!"

"I see..." Was all Elliot said, his voice was still hoarse, his throat dry.

So I caused a scene, again...

If only I didn't have this body.

If only I didn't have this sick heart.

"I'm so glad you're awake!" Samuel added, his relief spilling into a nervous laugh. "I-I'll go tell the others! They'll want to know you're awake, especially her Grace!" He was already halfway to the door, pausing only for a brief glance back. "Don't move too much, okay? I'll be right back!"

Before Elliot could respond, Samuel was gone, his hurried footsteps echoing down the hall, leaving Elliot alone with his swirling thoughts. He exhaled slowly, closing his eyes for a moment. His body might still be weak, but at least he was awake.

For now, anyway.

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The sound of hurried footsteps reached his ears before the door burst open. "Elliot! Oh, my dear Elliot!" Duchess Seraphina rushed into the room, her expression one of frantic relief, Isabella and Walter were right behind her.

"M-Mother!" Elliot murmured, barely having time to react before his mother enveloped him in a tight embrace.

"I was so worried!" Duchess Seraphina’s voice shook as she pulled back, her hands cupping his face, inspecting him as if she needed to confirm he was truly there. Dark circles underlined her eyes, her skin pale. Elliot could tell she hasn't slept since yesterday. "When I heard you fainted, I was so..."

I’m always causing her so much grief...

Isabella followed her mother and approached Elliot's bed.

"Elliot, how are you feeling?" She asked, concern painting her face and voice. "Are you in pain?"

"...No, Isabella. I'm feeling just fine, maybe a little tired, but that's all." Elliot answered as he gave his sister a small smile. He was happy to see her.

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"Are you sure?" Duchess Seraphina asked, her hands trembling as she released his face and held his hand instead. "You always try to put on a brave face, but I can see it in your eyes... don’t hide this from me."

"I’m... not," Elliot replied, his voice quieter. "Really, I’m fine."

Walter, who had been standing at the edge of the room, finally stepped closer. His normally serious face softened, though his eyes stayed sharp, observing Elliot carefully. "Elliot, if you feel anything—anything at all, like dizziness or chest pain—you need to let me know immediately." His voice was firm but kind. "You know I have some medical knowledge, or we can always summon the doctor again. We can’t take any chances with your condition."

Elliot nodded faintly. "I will. Thank you, Walter."

They were all so worried about me...

As Elliot thought that, his sweet green eyes turned towards Isabella. She stood just behind their mother, her lips pressed into a tight line, worry etched into every delicate feature.

I wonder, how did she react when she heard I fainted? Did she cry? Did... Leopold hold her as she cried over me? I know it's wrong to think that way, but I can't help it.

"Elliot..." Isabella wanted to embrace her younger brother, but he looked so frail to her, she was almost scared he'd shatter if she touched him.

Duchess Seraphina placed a hand on his forehead, smoothing back his hair. "You’re still warm... you need to rest more, my dear."

"Mother..." Elliot began, but the words caught in his throat.

"What happened, Elliot?" Isabella asked quietly, sitting carefully on the edge of the bed. Her gaze never wavered off Elliot, her concern palpable. "Did something happen to make you faint? Did you overexert yourself?"

Oh, so Lucas hasn't told them what happened, huh...

Elliot didn't answer, he wasn't sure what to say. So instead, he asked a question of his own.

"Where’s Lucas?" He asked finally, his voice barely above a whisper. He did find it a little strange how both his mother and sister are here, but his brother is nowhere to be seen..

The temperature in the room seemed to drop.

Duchess Seraphina’s expression hardened instantly. "Lucas?" Her lips curled slightly, her tone filled with barely contained fury. "That boy is the reason this happened, I'm sure! I knew he’d bring nothing but trouble!"

Elliot blinked in confusion. "What? No, he—"

"I’ve already forbid him from coming and seeing you!" Seraphina continued, her voice cutting like ice. "I won’t have him near you again, filling your head with whatever nonsense led to this! You fainted while spending time with him, didn't you? It's not a coincidence!" Her eyes flashed with accusation. "He’s not fit to be around you!"

Elliot’s chest tightened, but not from his condition—this was pure frustration. He tried to sit up, but his body was too weak, and all he managed was a small, tired glare. "Lucas had nothing to do with it! You don't understand!"

If I don't have Lucas around me, then that's another person leaving me behind!

"Elliot," the Duchess started, but Elliot cut her off, his voice quiet but firm.

"He didn’t cause this! This is my problem, I'm the problem! My heart is the problem!" He clenched his fists, trembling from the effort.

Duchess Seraphina's lips pressed into a thin line, her face pale with a mixture of fear and anger. "Oh my sweet boy, he’s not someone I want you be associating with..."

"Mother, please," Elliot sighed. "You can't forbid him from seeing me..."

Isabella, who had been silent until now, finally spoke up with a shaky voice. "Mother, I don't know what went down, but... Lucas couldn't had possibly meant any harm. He really does care for Elliot."

But the Duchess was unmoved. "Whether intentional or not. I won’t allow THAT boy to be by Elliot’s side while he's going through a rough time! I won't!"

Elliot’s heart sank. He felt utterly helpless, too tired to argue, too worn out to fight back as hard as he wanted to.

A small, aching sadness filled his chest as he realized Lucas must have figured it out by now

Lucas must know, he must know my secret, right? The secret I didn't want him to discover...

"I didn’t want him to find out..." Elliot whispered, more to himself than to anyone else.

Isabella glanced at him, her brow furrowing. "Elliot, are you... Still worried about Lucas knowing?"

Elliot nodded faintly, unable to stop the wave of sorrow that washed over him. "I didn’t want him to know I'm sick."

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Later that day, after the others had left to let Elliot get some much-needed rest, the door creaked open, and Lucas stepped quietly into the room.

Elliot’s eyes widened, genuinely surprised to see him. He really thought he won't get to see Lucas until he's out of this bed.

"L-Lucas!" Elliot stammered, his voice betraying a mix of relief and disbelief.

"...Elliot!" Lucas ran up to Elliot's bed, where he rested. "I've wanted to see you ever since I heard you woke up, but..."

"I-I know, my mother didn't allow it, right?" Elliot spoke, nodding weakly. "How did... you get in? Did no one stop you? Mother didn’t allow it, did she?"

Lucas sighed, his expression a mixture of guilt and determination. "Isabella convinced the guards to let me through. She might get in trouble if the Duchess finds out, so I’m not sure how long I can stay, but..." He trailed off, the words sticking in his throat. Elliot could see the hurt reflected in Lucas’s blue eyes.

For a moment, there was silence, thick and heavy with all the things left unsaid.

"You can sit, you know..." Elliot pointed to a chair beside the bed, breaking the silence. Lucas nodded and sat down, his gaze still fixed on Elliot, full of worry and uncertainty.

He's not sure what to say, huh? I suppose I can't blame him.

"So you've... found out, right? About me, I mean." Elliot got straight to the point.

Lucas nodded, his face full of pain. "I... I've head that you're... sick. That you have..."

"A sick heart" Elliot finished Lucas's sentence. "That's right... I've always been sickly, ever since I was born."

"Elliot..."

"I really didn't want you to find out. Lucas, do you remember our little stroll through Bellacrest back when you first got here? Remember how you didn't see me for days after we came back to Devereaux Hall?"

Lucas nodded, he found that very strange back then.

"The truth is, I fainted. It was really bad, but I didn't want you to know, so I begged everyone to keep it a secret from you, to leave you in the dark." Elliot explained, leaving Lucas shocked.

"Why didn't you want me to find out?" Lucas asked, he wasn't sure if he should or not, but he didn't have time to think before he asked it.

"Well...I suppose, when you're known as the sickly boy all your life, it was so nice to have someone treat you like a normal boy." Elliot explained his honest feelings.

I wonder, how does Lucas feel knowing I've hid this from him? Does it make him angry?

"You know," Elliot continued, his voice calm but carrying a deep sadness. "Some doctors said it was a miracle I made it this far, that I’ve lived this long."

Lucas felt his heart twist with every word. It was one thing to know Elliot was sick, but to hear him speak about it so plainly—like it was a fact he’d learned to live with—was almost too much to bear.

"My heart," Elliot continued, "it’s caused me so much trouble. If I ever ran too fast, or played, or laughed too hard, I'll be risking fainting or worse. I’ve watched other kids, kids my age, running around outside, making friends, having fun... But I’ve never been able to join them. And because of that, I’ve never really had many friends. The few I have are the sons of other noblemen, but considering my condition, I can't really be part of their world most of the time. They are far removed from me."

His gaze dropped to his hands, which rested limply on the bed. "Our father... the Duke... he’s ashamed of me."

Lucas’s eyes widened. "What?! Ashamed? But why would he—"

"Because I’m weak," Elliot interrupted, his voice carrying the weight of years of unspoken frustration. "I’m suppose to be his heir, Lucas. But what kind of heir can’t even stand on his own two feet? What kind of heir collapses from something as simple as a conversation?" He clenched his fists, his voice growing quieter. "I sometimes heard It’s hard for him to show his face around other nobles because of me!"

Lucas listened, horrified at the thought. "But... surely he doesn’t blame you for something you can’t control?"

"He tries to hide it," Elliot admitted, "but I can see it in his eyes. Every time I fall ill, every time I faint in front of people, it’s like I’m letting him down all over again." His voice wavered slightly as he recalled painful memories. "There was this one time, during a ball... I fainted right in front of everyone, in the middle of one of his speeches. He was so furious, he didn’t speak to me for weeks afterward. And then there are the whispers... people gossiping about how I’ll never live long enough to inherit the title."

Lucas’s fists clenched at his sides, anger rising on Elliot’s behalf. "You didn’t choose this!"

Elliot smiled faintly, though the sadness never left his eyes. "I know. But it doesn’t change anything."

He paused, his gaze softening as he looked out the window. "And because of my condition, I don’t have many friends. I’ve spent most of my life inside, too fragile to join the others. My only real friend has been my beloved sister, Isabella." His voice cracked at the mention of her. "She’s been my everything. But now... She’s slipping away too."

Lucas frowned, sensing the deep hurt beneath Elliot’s words. "You mean... because of Leopold?"

Elliot’s expression darkened. "Yes. He’s taking her away from me. I know she deserves to be happy, to live her life, but... it’s hard, Lucas. It’s hard to see her with him, to watch her drift further away. I wanted her to stay with me forever, but that's too much to ask, is it?"

Sometimes I feel I would rather have someone stab me in the heart, even that would be less painful. I know it's wrong to think that way, but I can't help it.

Lucas didn’t know what to say. He could feel and understand Elliot’s pain, could see how much it tore at him to lose the one person he felt truly connected to. Lucas understood it all too well, which is why it made it harder for him to find the right words.

"But..." Elliot’s voice broke the silence again, this time with a hint of determination. "There’s one thing I want more than anything. I want to make my father proud. I want him to look at me and not see weakness, but strength. And... I believe the I can do that is by attending Cheveralie Academy. If I can get in, if I can do well there... Then maybe, just maybe, he’ll see that I’m more than just a sickly heir. That I’m worthy of being his son."

Lucas looked at Elliot, stunned by the quiet strength in his voice. Despite everything, despite his illness and the limitations it placed on him, Elliot still had dreams.

"Elliot... I know you can do it. You’re stronger than you think." Lucas spoke in a soft voice as he got up and gave Elliot a hug.

Elliot smiled faintly. "I hope so."