The Low-Ranking Civil Servant Wants to Achieve Success Chapter 98

“Ah, yes.”

Kiaros got up and opened the door.

Standing there was Namia, holding several bags in both hands and looking up at him.

“I know it’s rude to just drop by like this. But… I was worried.”

Her blue eyes were filled with concern.

“If you canceled your plans, then you must be seriously sick. And being sick alone… that just felt too sad.”

Still standing outside the door, she began handing him what she was carrying.

“This is tomato stew and beef stew. Heat whichever one you prefer. I didn’t make them—they’re store-bought.”

Namia was still dressed for the banquet.

She must have come straight from there without even stopping by her home.

She probably still suspected that Keyvon might be the spy…

Which was why, when she saw him inside the house, a flicker of relief briefly passed over her expression.

“And this is cake… I know you probably can’t eat it if you’re sick, but still, it’s your birthday.”

She handed him the cake box. Just as it seemed she was done, she pulled something else from her bag.

“This is your birthday present.”

“…What?”

“I was going to give it to you at the banquet. Well, either way, you’re getting it now.”

Inside the small box, neatly wrapped with a ribbon, was a pen.

“I thought you seemed conscious of the pen I gave Victor. But actually, I’ve given pens to most of the people I’m close with. It’s inexpensive and not too heavy a gift.”

Kiaros’s heart began to tighten.

Namia… was showing interest in someone else’s feelings? And that someone was him?

A whirlwind of overwhelming emotions surged inside him—joy, gratitude, elation, the most brilliant feelings life could offer—followed immediately by crushing guilt.

“Happy birthday, Keyvon. I’ll be going now.”

He accepted the box with the pen inside. Their fingers brushed slightly.

“Th-thank you…”

“Huh?”

Namia’s expression changed. She had been about to leave, but her eyes narrowed with sudden suspicion.

“Hey… you…”

“…Yes?”

“Hey! Are you serious right now? Oh my god…”

Without warning, she reached up and placed her hand on his forehead.

“My god, you’re burning up! What is this fever?”

“…Excuse me?”

The room spun. His vision blurred, and his body wobbled. Namia quickly supported him.

“My god, if you were this sick, you should’ve gone to the hospital!”

She took back the cake and stew from his hands and scolded him sharply.

“I figured you must be pretty sick to cancel last-minute, but I didn’t think it was this bad!”

Kiaros blinked in a daze. He tried to say he was fine, to ask what she was talking about, but his body felt like cotton—heavy and weak. He staggered again, and Namia caught his weight over one shoulder.

“Let’s get you inside. Where’s your bedroom?”

Practically dragging him, Namia brought him inside. She glanced around the small house and exclaimed cheerfully,

“Wow, this place is so compact! The bed’s right there—this is a great house!”

“…You’re welcome to call it shabby.”

His voice cracked as he spoke. Namia guided him into the only room, practically tossing him onto the bed. She rummaged through a drawer, found a thermometer, and stuck it into his mouth without warning.

“Mmph!”

“…Oh my god, it’s 39 degrees Celsius! How long have you been like this?”

She gasped at the reading.

Kiaros gasped too. He had never even caught a cold in his life—why did he have a fever now?

And then, a voice from the past echoed in his memory:

“Because it’s an abnormal manifestation, there will be aftereffects. If you don’t want to be bedridden for days, you need to be careful.”

Earlier, he’d gotten a little… unhinged, seeing Namia and Victor alone on the balcony together.

They’d been clinking glasses, looking so close…

Victor even looked like he was confessing to her. Kiaros had lost control and, yes—sort of broken the balcony.

So this is the aftereffect?

His head was burning, his voice cracking. Namia looked at him with sympathy and spoke urgently.

“You wanted to come to the banquet with me as my partner no matter what, right? So you held out and held out… but even holding out until right before the banquet wasn’t enough. That’s why you sent that note, right? And you’ve just been here all alone—sad, sick, and miserable this whole time?”

An incredibly detailed and oddly specific deduction.

Namia bustled around and placed a cold wet towel on his forehead.

“Do you have any emergency medicine? Let’s get you some fever reducer first.”

“Uh… no, I mean, I’m fine. I don’t need it.”

Namia smiled sweetly, but her voice was firm and gentle:

“Okay, one last question. Do you want to take your meds, or do you want me to yell at you?”

Looking at that smile, Kiaros answered quickly:

“I think the fever meds are in the second drawer.”

Namia opened the second drawer and gasped.

“Wow, there’s every kind of medicine in here! So that’s why you gave me so many antacids, huh? Did you major in pharmaceuticals in Emote or something?”

Well, it was a safehouse used by crows, who needed to treat themselves in secret…

She found the fever reducer and helped him take it. Then, watching him quietly, she asked,

“Did you go to the hospital?”

“Ah… no.”

“I thought so. Once you can move a bit, let’s go, okay?”

“No, I think I’ll be fine after a bit of sleep. Please, Minister, you should go home.”

“Really? Then just rest a little. I’ll stay with you until then.”

“No, please, it’s really okay—”

“Even if it’s uncomfortable, deal with it. I’ll leave after your fever breaks.”

Namia was firm. Kiaros said with a cracked voice,

“The house is a mess. You’ll be uncomfortable. The hot water might not even work…”

“Oh, perfect! If we need to cool you down, cold water is just what we need. That’ll make refreshing the towel easy.”

Determined to monitor him, she pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat down.

The old chair creaked from disuse. Kiaros sighed, and Namia grinned.

“Wow, it’s like a rocking chair. I’ve always wanted one.”

The sheer depth of her compassion was staggering. At that moment, the wind blew fiercely and the window rattled.

“Wow, it’s like a haunted mountain cabin! I always wanted to visit a place like that!”

Kiaros stared at Namia as she checked the towel on his forehead.

It was absurd—this whole situation had started because he’d gotten jealous watching Victor and Namia together.

Well… I guess at least I’m off the hook for being a spy now.

It was an accidental perfect alibi.

That moment… when he saw the two of them on the balcony, his blood had boiled.

“I’ve always been her number one.”

Her time—time he wasn’t part of. A man who claimed to have that time.

Victor Arwin. Kiaros had disliked his name even before he arrived.

He was going crazy wondering how Namia really felt about Victor. From the outside, he just couldn’t tell.

“Minister.”

Namia had once clearly stated she wouldn’t answer personal questions while working. But this wasn’t work time.

Maybe the fever meds had a sedative component, because his head was getting hazy.

Leaning into that fogginess, he asked her,

“What is your relationship with Team Leader Victor Arwin?”

Namia had definitely said “I rejected him” back on the balcony.

But that answer hadn’t satisfied him. She’d looked troubled all evening.

Was it because she was upset about the possibility that Victor might be the spy?

If she rejected him only because of that possibility…

“No, I mean… what was your relationship with him?”

“What?”

“Team Leader Victor told me this: for a long time, he was your number one.”

At that, Namia burst out laughing.

Then, resting her chin on her hand with an incredulous expression, she asked—her eyes full of rare amusement:

“Wait… so Victor dragged you off that day to say that?”