Spring in My Grasp - Chapter 15

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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(15) Where I Belong

A crimson hue lingered around Rowan’s eyes as she stayed awake through the night. Exhaustion weighed upon her from the relentless caregiving, yet she had no intention of closing her eyes. More pressing was ensuring this ailing man could rest, even if only for a moment.
I was accustomed to such work. Having done everything necessary to survive in reality, these sleepless nights no longer troubled me.
Whenever Alexis groaned in discomfort, I would hurry to his side, replacing the cool compress, offering him water, and reapplying medicine to his wounds.
Rather than tender words, it was the quiet devotion of my hands that conveyed sincerity—perhaps a kindness Alexis had never experienced in all his years.
Then, at some moment, his hand brushed against my fingertips and grasped them. Eyes closed, his consciousness hazy, the gesture seemed unconscious. I gazed at that hand quietly. His fingers trembled faintly, and that light, unforced contact stirred something unexpectedly poignant within me.
“It’s alright. I’m here beside you.”
The words felt less like something meant for him to hear and more like something I was telling myself—that everything would be fine, that I could remain at his side like this.
With an impassive expression, I examined his wounds. My gaze remained composed, yet my fingertips moved with careful, earnest precision. Peeling away bandages, applying salve, changing dressings—I completed each task methodically. Though I spoke no tender words, the warmth my hands conveyed was sufficiently comforting.
After some time, Alexis, breathing heavily, barely opened his eyes in a half-conscious state. As his blurred vision cleared and he saw my face looking down at him, his brow furrowed with confusion.
“Why are you… here….”
“Who else would come? Besides, I’m supposedly your wife.”
My tone was blunt. Yet my hands caring for him contradicted my words with their tenderness. There was no particular emotion in calling myself his wife, but somehow Alexis felt those words seep deep into his heart.
As I continued to clean his wounds and apply medicine, he closed his eyes, his flushed face burning.
“I’ve caused you trouble.”
“If you understand, then take better care of yourself going forward.”
My words were curt, yet I dampened the cloth in cool water again and carefully wiped his forehead. Wet strands of hair clung to my cheek, and as I adjusted the damp bedding, I gazed at Alexis with a peculiarly serene expression. Under that gaze, Alexis felt an inexplicable warmth spreading across both his cheeks.
‘I must have a fever after all.’
Alexis thought to himself.
“You seem rather frail for someone of your station.”
Somehow wounded in pride, Alexis bristled, his flushed face indignant.
“Those cowardly whelps from the Idinga Brothers—they fought dirty!”
Even in his state, Alexis refused to surrender his pride, and I found myself laughing despite myself. Then, quietly, I brought a cup of water to his lips. Parched from fever, Alexis obediently drank.
“Of course, I’m sure you’re quite formidable.”
Alexis ground his teeth as he drank.
“I’m serious! Do you know how despicably they fought?!”
As Alexis regained some strength, I gave him medicine. Until he fell asleep again, he continued cursing the Idinga Brothers, unable to let go of his anger.
I listened to his venting while suppressing my laughter. This cold, twisted young master, pouting like this, struck me as oddly endearing.
‘He’s not even a child.’
Perhaps his bitterness stemmed from a lack of love. With my devoted care, Alexis seemed to have let his guard down, and he ground his teeth about avenging himself against the Idinga Brothers as if sulking until sleep finally claimed him.
I nodded along, saying, “Of course, of course.” But I didn’t forget to add a stern warning.
“Just don’t come back injured like this again.”
The meaning was clear—stop causing me trouble—but however he interpreted it, Alexis bit his lip quietly, his face flushed. Then he nodded silently.
“Now, go to sleep quickly. You’ll feel better after rest.”
I gently pressed my hand to Alexis’s forehead to check his temperature, speaking softly.
Alexis gazed up at me for a moment, entertaining a strange thought. If they were an ordinary couple, it would have been natural for me to lie beside him and sleep together. But now….
‘No.’
Alexis squeezed his eyes shut.
‘Pain makes the mind wander to strange places.’
Outside, darkness reigned, and a gentle wind stirred the windowpanes. The lamp beside the bed flickered softly in response.
That night, Rowan tended to him with a tender gaze, responding gracefully to his every word whether he lay awake or spoke deliriously through fever.
Rowan had always possessed a weakness for the fragile and infirm. As she nursed this beautiful young man whom no family member had bothered to visit, she found herself overcome with an unexpected compassion for him.
For three days she spared herself sleep, caring for Alexis with meticulous devotion. The Glister Earl Family raised no objection to her dedication. Yet once those three days of nursing concluded, Rowan vanished as silently as she had appeared, slipping away from the Count’s Residence to the Annex without fanfare.
When Alexis awoke one morning, he discovered she had disappeared like a shadow. As though something that should have remained had been taken away, he felt an unexpected hollowness.
***
After Rowan’s departure, Alexis’s room fell into profound silence. Morning sunlight streamed brilliantly through the windows, yet his mood stood in stark contrast—subtly unsettled. With Rowan gone, the woman who had tended to his pain through the night, the room felt strangely expansive.
The chair where Rowan had sat and the teacup she had drunk from had long since grown cold.
When the warmth that had lingered at his fingertips throughout the night faded away, he felt as though awakening from a long, forgotten dream—displaced and uneasy.
‘Why does my heart feel so… unsettled?’
Alexis pondered this. He realized, unexpectedly, that he had incurred an unspoken debt to the wife he had neglected.
‘Yes, that must be it.’
He attributed this discomfort to a sense of indebtedness. Without being asked, his wife—exiled to the East Annex—had fulfilled her obligation. Since she lived in the East Annex, she could not have known of his injury upon his return; it was obvious as daylight how she had come here and nursed him through those nights.
‘This time, I’ve done something I should apologize for.’
With this reasoning, Alexis rose from his bed. Then, catching sight of his reflection in the mirror, he clicked his tongue in disapproval.
‘I cannot go looking like this.’
After all, this was a visit to express gratitude—propriety demanded respect. Alexis summoned his attendants. For the first time, he who typically abhorred fuss called upon them, and they came running at once. Visibly pale, they stood tense with anxiety.
‘Perhaps his mood is displeased.’
They all harbored the same thought. Had there not been an incident days prior when Alexis had confronted the Idinga Brothers, only to be set upon by their entire gang, returning bloodied and battered?
Fearing his anger might be unleashed upon them, the attendants stood rigid with apprehension.
“What are you doing?”
Yet Alexis’s expression remained as cold and arrogant as ever. Save for a slight gauntness, he appeared unchanged. The haughty bearing characteristic of nobility flowed from him.
“Attend to me.”
“Yes?”
One attendant let out a startled, vacant sound. At this, Alexis’s brow furrowed. The attendant who had inadvertently made the noise held his breath in alarm. With a glance, Alexis indicated his wardrobe.
“Attend to my dress.”
This was not the Alexis who typically found such matters tedious, dressing carelessly as he pleased in a manner unbefitting a nobleman of his station before dashing out. Had it not been for his distinctive, captivating beauty, his conduct would have been indistinguishable from that of a ruffian.
“Yes, understood.”
The most perceptive attendant sprang into motion, hurrying to the wardrobe and retrieving the finest black formal suit.
“Does this please you?”
“….”
Alexis offered no reply. Yet from his impassive expression, the attendant discerned he harbored no particular objection.
Relieved at last, the attendant swiftly unfolded the garments and began dressing him with practiced care. As the experienced attendant exchanged a knowing glance, the others moved to refine every detail of his appearance.

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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