Chapter 242: The Smell of Death
“Mr. Armand… what’s wrong…?”
In that moment, it was like something inside Evelia snapped.
Maybe she should’ve stayed calm and thought more clearly about what was happening… but the moment she saw how weak and pale Armand looked, her mind and heart turned into a mess.
A sudden tightness gripped her throat, making it hard to breathe. Her vision seemed to turn black and white, and the only color she could see was the dried blood crusted near Armand’s nose.
Even though the visible wounds on his body had been covered with medicine, just one look at his face told Evelia that his condition was very bad.
Panicked, Evelia walked over to Armand’s side. From the outside, her injuries looked even worse than his. But compared to her own carefully inflicted wounds, she was far more worried about Armand.
She had been hoping to see Mr. Armand greet her with a smile when she came back. But why… why was it like this?
What happened to Mr. Armand?
Did he get hurt…? Is he sick?
Why?
Why did this happen after I was gone for just a few days…?
If it were just a regular cold, it wouldn’t be so bad. It might be uncomfortable, but colds come and go quickly. Just a couple of days in bed and he’d be fine.
But this…
“Mr. Armand?”
Even though Evelia knew it wasn’t polite to wake up a sick person, she still gently tried calling his name.
She slowly reached out her injured hand toward Armand’s pale face. She hesitated, stretching out her fingers, then pulling them back as if afraid to touch him. But after a short pause, her hand trembled as she reached out again, finally letting her fingertips touch his cheek.
“Mr… Mr. Armand… I… I’m back…”
She bent over, speaking softly, her eyes trembling from the silence. Her voice was shaky and small, like she was hoping he’d open his eyes… but also afraid she might disturb his rest.
The once high and mighty "Red Crow", the person admired, respected, and envied by everyone at House of Nightingales was now looked like a lost child, begging the man in front of her to wake up and look at her.
She knew she didn’t have to act like this. She didn’t need to be this emotional.
But seeing Armand lying there, not moving at all, completely destroyed whatever calm she had left.
All she wanted right now was to hear his voice. Just once.
She wasn’t asking for anything more. Just one word.
It was like something deep inside her broke apart. Evelia felt something stuck in her throat, something she didn’t know how to express.
—How strange.
Wasn’t I swearing just days ago that I’d kill him?
But now… what am I doing?
What… am I even doing?
Her heart was full of conflict, one part screaming out orders, the other full of longing. She was like a broken machine, stuck in confusion and unable to function properly. She told herself to calm down, to stay focused. But one look at Armand’s sickly face, and she knew she couldn’t.
“I… I’m back… Your Eve is back… So… can you… Can you get up… and greet me, just a little…?”
The room stayed quiet. Armand didn’t even twitch a single eyebrow.
Maybe because of her experience, Evelia had always been sensitive to the “feeling of death.”
She knew all too well what people looked like when they were close to dying.
And now, lying in front of her, Armand looked completely lifeless. The only thing separating him from a corpse was the burning heat of his fever.
And because of that… Evelia reacted so strongly.
Because she could smell it.
She could smell the scent of death.
Even though Armand didn’t have any dramatic wounds or blood spilling everywhere, she could still feel it. Death was clinging to him, refusing to let go.
If this were a normal situation, if it was really just a simple cold or fever, Evelia wouldn’t be like this.
Yes, she might stay close and take care of Armand nonstop until he got better, but now… now she was afraid.
Because she felt like Armand could leave her at any moment.
And that feeling was only getting stronger. That fear had soaked into every inch of her skin.
Evelia was panicking, completely panicking.
This wasn’t something she wanted to see. It wasn’t something she ever hoped for.
Armand was the one person who had always been her support.
He was the person who, after she joined House of Nightingales, slowly helped her begin to understand what “feelings” meant.
He was supposed to be… supposed to be…
Maybe there were better words to describe how important Armand was to her, or better titles to explain who he was in her heart. But Evelia hadn’t fully understood those feelings yet. All she could do now, wrapped in fear, was recall how much she didn’t want to lose him.
She opened her mouth to speak, but it took a long time for the words to finally come out.
“...Is it because I came back too late…?”
Evelia bit her lip hard. To be level with Armand, she knelt at the side of his bed.
“It’s me… It’s all because I came back too late… I… I…”
She couldn’t find a single excuse for herself. Even though Armand couldn’t hear her and wouldn’t respond, she still couldn’t make any excuses.
In the end, this was all because of House of Nightingales.
Rachel was kidnapped by people from House of Nightingales, and Evelia herself, because she was one of them, had been forced to stay again and again.
All she wanted was to bring Rachel home, to reunite their family...
“...Don’t die.”
Evelia, or rather the one known as the Red Crow, was now praying for the life of the very person she had once been ordered to kill.
“Mr. Armand… Please… don’t die…”
She held Armand’s hand in both of hers, his palm covered in old scars from many years ago. She kissed the center of his palm and pressed it gently to her cheek.
Rachel sat quietly to the side. Of course Evelia noticed her, but neither of them said a word.
Right now, both of them were focused only on the unconscious Armand.
Rachel, who always called herself a genius alchemist, was facing a problem she couldn’t solve—
Well… maybe there was a solution… but it would be far more complicated than usual.
As Evelia prayed, she also started thinking, who could’ve done this?
Finally, she looked toward Rachel, who seemed deep in thought, and asked in a hoarse, cold voice.
“Do you know who did it?”
“—Huh?”
Rachel jumped a little at the question. When she looked at Evelia, she froze.
There was no mistaking it, that was killing intent.
Heavy, suffocating killing intent.
Not even when Rachel had died before did she ever feel this much pressure coming from Evelia.
Now, Evelia’s face was dark. The shadows from her bangs covered the upper half of her face, hiding her expression. Her golden eyes were wide open, pupils sharply contracted, the whites of her eyes making her look frightening.
Her face still looked as cold as usual, but just that slight change in her eyes sent an icy chill down Rachel’s spine, making it hard to even breathe.
"Ah... um..."
Of course, Rachel had noticed the knife wounds on Armand’s body that hadn’t fully healed yet. But she knew very well that his condition wasn’t because of those injuries. It was because of the poison in his body. The problem was, Rachel didn’t know who had hurt Armand, or who had poisoned him.
Still, she clearly understood one thing. She must not let Evelia know about the poison in Armand’s body.
Whether because of Evelia’s personality or her position, Rachel couldn’t let her find out.
“It’s probably just a really bad cold…” Rachel said softly. “You know, Mom… Dad already had stomach problems. Add a fever on top of that, it makes sense, right? So—”
“Do you even know what you’re saying?”
Rachel's lie was quickly and sharply interrupted by Evelia.
“Armand looks like this… and you’re saying it’s just a bad cold?”
There was no way she could believe such a weak excuse.
Armand was seriously ill now, and someone still thought this was just a cold?
“Mr. Armand is about to die! He—”
“…Ugh…”
Just as Evelia held Armand’s hand tightly, trying to use her anger to hide her fear, Armand let out a faint groan.
“M-Mr… A-Armand? Are you awake…?”
Seeing him finally respond, Evelia quickly leaned in. Her voice trembled from excitement and worry.
“…?”
Armand slowly opened his eyes, squinting as he looked in the direction of the voice. In his blurry vision, he saw a familiar shade of pink.
“…Ah…”
Even though he couldn’t see clearly… even though he didn’t know if this was a dream or real life… even though his fever made it hard to think… Armand still recognized that pink color right away.
…Another dream, huh.
That was what came to his mind as soon as he opened his eyes.
Because during this time, while he was unconscious, he had dreamed so many dreams.
He dreamed of the past, of the present, and even of a future that only existed in his imagination.
Now, believing that Evelia had already died, he once again thought the scene in front of him was just a new dream.
Yes, that must be it.
He had been dreaming about Evelia all this time. Even in the wild, illogical dreams, he had taken Evelia to meet his parents, who were still alive in those dreams.
…So this is just another one, huh?
My head hurts so much...
My eyes hurt. My throat hurts.
It’s not the first time I’ve had a high fever, but it always felt horrible.
If I could get through it easily… it wouldn’t be called being sick.
“…Eve…”
Armand tried to swallow his dry throat and squeezed out a few words. His fingers gently touched Evelia’s long hair near her cheek. For some reason, the more he tried to see clearly, the more blurry his vision became.
“Eve… lia…”
Even just those four syllables made him pause and breathe heavily. His cracked lips trembled as he spoke unclearly.
“I… missed… you…”
He clearly had a lot he wanted to say. His words were full of longing. But those few words were all his weak body could handle.
Just after he spoke, his eyes slowly closed again, his trembling lashes still heavy with the very tears that had blurred his sight.
“Mr. Armand…”
Evelia replied to his words. Even though his speech was weak and unclear, she had heard everything.
She pressed even closer to his hand, letting her long pink hair slip through his fingers.
“I missed you too… Mr. Armand… I missed you so much…”