Surviving As An Obsessive Servant Chapter 160

…Then.

Frustrated, I pressed a fist against my chest—

And heard footsteps in the hall.

Steady. Measured. Unmistakable.

I knew that rhythm.

The door opened, and our eyes met.

For a long time, we just stared.

I kept parting my lips, but no words came.

Empty reassurances were one of the things I hated hearing the most when I was sick.

I didn’t know if I should even try to comfort him.

And if my worst fears were true—if his illness had truly relapsed—

Then just standing in front of me might feel cursed to him.

…He might hate me.

The thought was unbearable.

Then, as if he had suddenly remembered something, Edric spoke boldly.

“I ate dinner.”

“….”

“I took my medicine, too.”

“…Do you want me to praise you right now?”

“Well, I deserve it.”

He had always wanted praise for taking his medicine when we were younger.

But that was—!

That was when we were kids!

Right now?! In this situation?!

Stunned into silence, I could only gape at him—

And Edric, unbothered, stepped closer.

I flinched.

Is it safe to be near him?

How close can I get?

Without thinking, I stepped back.

He took another step forward.

I stepped back again—

And in a single stride, he closed the distance completely.

There was nowhere left to run.

He wrapped his arms around me, exhaling deeply—

Like he had finally come up for air.

“…I feel like I can breathe again.”

His voice was heavy with relief.

“I went too long without seeing you.”

Instinctively, he moved to nuzzle his forehead against mine—

Then froze.

“…Ah.”

He had just now noticed.

I was completely dry, but his bangs were damp, sticking to his forehead from the rain.

Awkwardly, he ran a hand through his hair.

With his bangs down, he looked younger—just like he used to.

But there’s no time for nostalgia.

This was a relapse of a deadly disease.

Reassuring him had to come first.

But before I could even try, Edric pulled something from his coat.

“I just picked this up.”

The small vial in his hand shimmered—

A familiar blue liquid sloshed inside.

“It’s a newly developed medicine made from herbs found at the Three Strongholds.”

My breath caught.

How can anyone even be sure it will work?

His symptoms had never been recorded before.

Would this medicine even help with a relapse?

Isn’t there some way to return the power I took?

And—

Edric was a Dif.

There was no way he could safely disclose that to the researchers.

Faced with an unpredictable disaster, I felt like I could die from the helplessness.

“I recovered once before,” Edric said.

“I’ll recover again.”

“……”

His thumbs brushed away the tears I hadn’t even realized had fallen.

“Relax, Lobel. Look—I’m fine.”

“……”

Or should I show you?

The second he reached for the buttons of his shirt, I scowled.

Suddenly, I wasn’t so worried anymore—I was just irritated.

As if sensing my shift in mood, he spoke deliberately.

“I don’t know if this medicine will work for relapses, but it’s been effective for other patients.

That’s why I went there myself to get it.”

Even the parchment Heaz Rezendar had given me confirmed it.

The northern herbs bore a striking resemblance to those once used by Difs.

The records came from the Magic Kingdom—

Not flawless, but reliable enough.

After sorting through our thoughts, I finally spoke with firm resolve.

“…Then we shouldn’t be near each other.”

“I agree.”

His response was immediate.

Or—at least, I thought so.

“We already spent seven years apart,” he continued.

“And we don’t know how much longer it’ll be.

So, just for now—stay with me.”

“……”

“Just for one week.”

“……”

“…Please, Lobel?”

Like I could refuse.

I hesitated—

Then nodded.

“…Fine. But you have to postpone the succession ceremony.”

Becoming Duke would overwhelm him.

It was better to delay it and let him recover first.

Besides, I refused to let him suffer through some nobles’ petty complaints later about his lackluster hosting.

“The ceremony can’t be postponed.”

Edric’s tone hardened.

Right.

He had waited years for this.

Of course, it would be frustrating.

And he was the heir of Denkart—

But still, his health came first.

I was preparing to argue again—

But his next words shocked me silent.

“My father-in-law and mother-in-law will be expecting it.”

“…That’s what you’re worried about?”

Edric nodded emphatically.

 

 

****

 

 

Edric’s decision to cancel the succession ceremony left his advisors at a complete loss.

Technically, he wasn’t canceling it—he still intended to inherit the title.

But he refused to hold the formal ceremony.

For once, Denian completely lost his usual composure and raised his voice.

“How can you even suggest such a thing?!”

This wasn’t just any event.

It was supposed to be a grand occasion—

A new Duke should be celebrated with nobles and vassals alike, basking in the glory of Denkart’s magnificent lands.

Denian looked utterly defeated, as if the world were ending tomorrow.

But Benjamin, who had served Edric long enough to know his stubbornness, merely nodded.

“I’ll send an invitation to His Highness the Crown Prince.”

“I already sent one.”

There was a precedent for this—

A long, long time ago, a Denkart heir had held a minimal succession rite in the presence of the High Priest and Crown Prince while at war.

But that had been a time of war.

Among nobles, such an act was considered an insult, an utter disgrace.

No one wanted their succession to be overshadowed by the stench of the battlefield.

And with rumors already circulating about Denkart’s strained relationship with the Imperial family—

Did it really have to be this extreme?

And with no clear explanation given?

Denian could only pray that the Crown Prince would refuse to attend.

That night, he clasped his hands so tightly in prayer that his wife gave him an odd look.

But—

The Crown Prince’s relationship with Edric was far stronger than Denian realized.

At the crack of dawn, he arrived at the estate.

Denian stared at him, horrified.

“You just called me here to run errands?”

The Crown Prince’s tone was incredulous.

“I already said I’d be there. You could’ve just followed protocol.”

Even this early in the morning, draped in a ceremonial robe, he looked impeccable.

But exhaustion was etched into his face.

Beside him stood the High Priest, his kind expression unchanged—

But his mood clearly wasn’t great.

Frankly, this entire situation was highly improper.

Summoning the Crown Prince on such short notice—without any explanation—was nothing short of rude.

Fortunately, Crown Prince Louis was a remarkably good-natured man, renowned throughout Terua’s history for his patience.

There was no argument.

But when Edric wordlessly pushed a document forward, demanding his signature—

The Crown Prince narrowed his eyes.

“You never fail to surprise me,” he said, voice laced with intrigue.

“Inheriting the title without holding the ceremony…?”

He didn’t understand why, but—

That was what Edric wanted.

“Well,” the Crown Prince mused, “I suppose I’ll just write it up formally—

‘In accordance with ancient tradition, the Denkart heir held a solemn succession rite in the presence of the Crown Prince…’”

He twirled the pen between his fingers, pausing just before signing.

“…Don’t you think you’ll regret this?”

“Just sign it.”

A thin crack formed on Louis’s forehead.

Truthfully, his hesitation wasn’t only about the formality.

Edric’s complexion was worse than before.

He had spent his entire life caring for a chronically ill fiancée.

He knew what sickness looked like.

The sharpness of Edric’s cheekbones, the hollowness under his eyes—

It was obvious.

But the Crown Prince didn’t comment.

He knew Edric well enough to know—

Saying anything would be a waste of breath.

Besides—

‘…That young lady will take care of him.’

Louis trusted Lobel.

With that, he signed.

 

 

 

****

 

 

The news that Edric had postponed his succession ceremony spread quickly among the estate’s staff.

“…When did he say that?”

“At dawn. Just briefly.”

I had expected him to hesitate—

He had been so concerned about my parents that I thought it would take far more convincing.

But he agreed so easily.

I was starting to find it suspicious when he suddenly made an unusual suggestion.

“…You want to visit the manor?”

“A week is enough time to go and return.”

I wasn’t sure what he was thinking—

But soon, I understood.

When I was sick, the only place that ever made me feel better was home.

No matter how much my parents tried to take me somewhere with better air or better views—

Home was always the best place to be.

For him, Denkart’s grand estate was his home.

“…Alright.”

That place…

I never thought I’d go back.

But the manor where we first met often crossed my mind.

Returning after so long, I felt an odd sense of nostalgia.

Denkart’s lands weren’t called the paradise of the southeast for nothing.

The estate’s structure was similar to the capital’s mansion—

But the air, the sunlight—

Everything was softer. Brighter.

“Welcome home, my lord.”

The entire staff had gathered outside.

…Wait.

Why are they calling him that?

Do they not know the ceremony was postponed?

I felt a strange unease—

But before I could dwell on it, I spotted familiar faces.

The older attendants were smiling warmly at me from behind the others.

I almost ran to greet them—

But Edric tightened his grip on my hand, lacing our fingers together as if in warning.

Immediately, the staff’s gazes shifted.

The elderly butler, looking even more aged than I remembered, nearly staggered.

Turning away from their reactions, I lowered my voice.

“When… are we telling them?”

“I’m fine with right now.”

There wasn’t much to discuss—

He had already told the Duke.

Considering that even the palace knew—

It was almost strange that word hadn’t reached here yet.

Maybe…

They knew, but were pretending not to.

The butler, though—he was different.

A good man, but stubborn.

As I worried over how to handle it, Edric was already lost in his surroundings.

His green eyes, lightened by the sun, scanned the estate with quiet longing.

And I—

I just stood there, watching him.

…With his hair down, he looks even more like his younger self.

I never thought he would grow into such a strong man.

And suddenly—

I wanted more.

I wanted to see him years from now.

I wanted to see the faint lines of age form at the corners of his eyes and mouth—

To see strands of silver appear in his golden hair.

“…Young master.”

At the sound of the old title, he turned to me.

I stood on my toes and wrapped my arms around his neck.

“You will get better.”

I had said this to him once before—

And despite all odds, he had healed faster than anyone in the original story.

Even if it was just superstition—

I wanted to give him the certainty that he would recover again.

His eyes widened briefly.

Then, he nodded—lowering his head to kiss me.

It was strange.

I was the reason he was sick again—

Yet he still kissed me so easily.

If it had been me, I would have hated to even see my face.

But looking at his closed eyes, his smiling lips—

That feeling vanished completely.

So I told him again.

I would make him better.