Chapter 2

The servant collapsed to her knees in fright, and Bryce rushed over upon hearing the commotion. "Valery, what is it this time?" A sleepless night and the excitement of his engagement had left Bryce visibly fatigued. He cast an irritated glance toward the corner where Valery sat, ready to reprimand her, but stopped short when he saw her slump to the ground. "Valery." In that moment, Bryce forgot his anger and called out in alarm, "Hanna, Hanna, come quick! Something's wrong with Valery." For the first time since Valery turned eighteen, Bryce called her name directly. Half-conscious, Valery strained to open her eyes. She heard him, but her strength was gone—utterly gone. Resigned, she allowed herself to sink into unconsciousness. "Valery." Hanna arrived in a hurry, a subtle glint of calculation flashing in her eyes before she concealed it. She crouched down and lifted Valery, heading immediately for the hospital. "Wait for me." Bryce hastily grabbed a coat and took Valery from Hanna's arms. The scorching heat from Valery's body shocked him, and his eyes reddened with worry. "She's burning up! Valery's always been frail. What if something happens to her? I shouldn't have locked her in that room last night." His voice was thick with guilt. Hanna tugged at the corners of her lips, feigning remorse. "Bryce, it was my fault. It was my idea to have her locked in. Don’t be too hard on yourself. Once she wakes up, I’ll apologize to her immediately. She’ll be fine." Her soothing words gave Bryce a sense of stability. Unconsciously, he leaned closer to Hanna, as though drawing warmth and strength from her. This moment of closeness, though fleeting, seemed to transform the short trip to the hospital into an unspoken testament to their bond. At the hospital, Valery was wheeled into the examination room. Bryce was beside himself with worry. Pacing back and forth, he wrung his hands. "What if something happens to Valery? How would I explain this to her grandma?" "It's my fault. After all, she’s still just a child." As she listened to his fretful muttering, Hanna’s irritation briefly flickered across her face. But in front of Bryce, she masked her annoyance, instead pulling him into a comforting embrace. "Bryce, Valery is twenty now. She isn’t a child anymore." "The doctor said it’s just a cold. It’s my mistake—I shouldn’t have left her alone all night. I’ll take better care of her in the future. Don’t worry." Her words, though soothing, carried a subtle undertone of accusation. Bryce, now calmer, recalled Valery collapsing to the floor earlier. So, was this all a ploy—a desperate attempt to stop the engagement? He muttered, his voice hardening, "Valery was too reckless. To think she’d sit on the cold floor all night just to oppose my engagement. She won’t get away with this. I’ll make sure she learns her lesson this time." Bryce spoke through clenched teeth, while Hanna blinked innocently, her long lashes veiling a fleeting trace of satisfaction. That afternoon, Valery woke from her unconscious state. "Water… water…" Her parched and scratchy throat made every word feel like a knife slicing through. "Here." Hanna, gently holding down a drowsy Bryce, handed Valery a cup of warm water. Her demeanor was neither warm nor cold, but she played the part of a concerned elder. Bryce, feeling reassured, reached for her free hand and rested his head against her wrist. "Thank goodness you’re here, Hanna." A soft, bitter laugh escaped Valery’s lips as she turned her face away. Only by avoiding the sight before her could she suppress the storm raging in her mind. "What’s that attitude? Can’t you even greet someone properly?" Bryce’s tone was laced with disapproval. No matter what, Hanna was now his fiancée. To wake up and immediately show such disrespect was both an insult to Hanna and an embarrassment for Bryce.