A Fever That Refuses to Let Go

‘I’ll take responsibility, Shasha.’

The sentence he spoke sounded as though nothing could possibly make him happier.

“What?”

While Shana was still blinking in disbelief, Lucian gently but firmly took her hand.

Then he lowered himself onto one knee on the wooden floor.

His sky-colored eyes gleamed in the morning sunlight.

“Let’s get married.”

“M-marriage?”

The second sentence felt even more unreal than the first.

Yet Lucian was utterly serious, without the slightest hint of hesitation.

“I know that what we shared can’t be repaid with words alone.”

“So… I want to take responsibility with my actions.”

“Truly, by staking everything I have.”

Shana’s eyes darted around, unsure where to land.

‘What kind of insane nonsense is this?’

‘Responsibility?’

To someone else, it might have looked romantic.

To her, it was nothing but bewildering.

“Wait, just a second.”

“Stand up first.”

“And why are you suddenly talking about marriage?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“If you’ve shared a body, the natural course is to vow a lifetime together.”

Lucian said it calmly.

Like something straight out of a century-old tome, spoken as if it were common sense in the modern age.

True, there had once been a time when such values were universal.

But not now.

In an era where magic had advanced and personal freedom mattered, nobles who spoke this rigidly were rare.

And yet Lucian was proposing with absolute confidence, as if this were only natural.

At this point, it went beyond absurd and became laughable.

‘Was Lucian… always this conservative?’

Talking about marriage over a single night with someone he didn’t even love, just a childhood friend?

“…Lucian.”

“Is there some law that says you have to marry someone just because you slept together once?”

“Shasha, what did you say?”

At her blunt question, Lucian’s eyes wavered, wounded.

Meeting those clear, ocean-colored eyes, Shana pressed hard against her throbbing temple.

“We didn’t do this because we liked each other.”

“It was all because of the drug.”

“And Lucian, you…”

“It’s not like this was your first time.”

“So why are you acting like this now?”

“What do you mean, not my first time?”

“Are you saying being with you was my first?”

That was what she found impossible to believe.

Over the past three days, there hadn’t been a single moment of hesitation in his behavior.

The way he led the mood, the confident words.

The bold, unhesitating touches.

The practiced way he controlled the timing of her climaxes.

Everything about it screamed experience.

Lucian’s ears flushed red in an instant, like perfectly ripe apples.

“Shasha.”

“How could you misunderstand me like that…!”

“I swear, you were my first.”

“I stake everything I am on that.”

His voice, indignant and sincere, carried no trace of a lie.

And somehow, that only confused Shana more.

“Then… all those smooth words, all those things you did…”

“They were all your first time?”

“Smooth?”

“And I’m not some debauched man who sleeps around without marriage.”

“Is that how you saw me?”

‘D-debauched?’

It was far too crude a word to come from Lucian’s mouth.

Shana steadied herself and spoke again.

“…That’s not what I meant.”

True, there had never been any real scandals attached to him.

Still, he’d spent years on the battlefield.

Who knew what might have happened?

She’d only harbored a little doubt, yet Lucian looked genuinely wronged, his brow deeply furrowed.

Shana spoke carefully.

“Wait.”

“Lucian, do you really think sleeping with someone you’re not married to is that… immoral?”

“Of course.”

“Sharing bodies is no different from sharing souls.”

“I swore long ago I’d only ever be with one person.”

“There’s no way I’d do that with just anyone.”

Listening to words that were old-fashioned to the point of suffocating, Shana pressed a hand to her forehead.

“Lucian.”

She cut him off firmly.

“Hm?”

“Let’s just pretend this never happened.”

“Never happened?”

“Shasha, how could something like this be erased?”

“I know.”

“I’ve even thought about making a memory-erasing drug.”

“But if the two of us keep quiet and forget it, then it effectively never happened.”

“No one else knows.”

“Forget it?”

“That’s the most rational choice.”

“It’s better than gambling the rest of your life to cover up a mistake.”

Lucian stared at her, utterly stunned.

As if he’d just heard the cruelest words in the world.

“A mistake…?”

“Shasha, you want to erase all of this?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t you?”

This was bound to become the most humiliating black mark of her life.

“No.”

“I don’t.”

“Even when I thought it was a dream, I was always sincere.”

“You were sincere because you thought it was a dream.”

At her cold reasoning, Lucian bit his lip.

After a brief silence, he spoke with an expression that hovered between a smile and something broken.

“…Alright, Shasha.”

“If that’s what you want, we’ll treat it like it never happened.”

He didn’t look like someone who truly accepted it.

He looked like a hurt child.

And that, somehow, made Shana feel unfairly guilty.

‘Now it looks like I’m the bad one.’

Was he embarrassed because his first proposal had been rejected so decisively?

Even if there was no love in it, rejection must have been unfamiliar to someone like him.

Seeing how dark his expression was, Shana asked, feeling a twinge of pity.

“I understand how you feel.”

“But we can’t marry when we don’t even like each other.”

“Is this… your first time being rejected?”

“No, Shasha.”

“I’ve been rejected many times already.”

He smiled bitterly.

“…You confessed to someone?”

“And got rejected?”

It felt like being struck over the head.

She’d never heard of him confessing to anyone.

“You don’t need to worry about it.”

Lucian cut the topic short.

Curiosity stirred, but Shana didn’t press further.

‘I never knew he had someone he loved for so long.’

Thinking that, spending a night together felt even worse.

“From now on, we can just stay together anyway.”

“As for marriage… well, if you don’t want it, we can delay it.”

Lucian brightened again, smiling softly.

“What are you even talking about?”

“Eating together.”

“Sleeping together.”

“Bathing together—”

At that last word, Shana jolted upright.

“How does that conclusion even make sense?”

“Because we’re in love.”

“Love my foot!”

Shana shouted in disbelief.

Lucian gazed at her quietly, then gently cupped her cheek with one hand.

His eyes were more serious than she’d ever seen them.

“I love you, Shasha.”

Shana froze, blinking.

There was no way he meant that seriously.

‘No. That can’t be.’

She immediately placed her hand on his forehead.

Blazing heat radiated into her palm.

“You have a fever!”

The exclamation burst from her lips.

‘Don’t tell me this is a side effect of the antidote?’

“Shasha, it feels nice when you touch me.”

“Is this your blessing?”

Lucian whispered blissfully, clearly feverish.

That settled it.

‘He’s completely lost it.’

“Lucian, we need some distance.”

“What?”

“You’re acting strange.”

“It’s probably the drug’s aftereffects.”

Shana began backing away cautiously.

“I’ll make a new treatment.”

“And to make sure something like this never happens again, you shouldn’t come to my shop for a while.”

“Understand?”

“Don’t come at all?”

“I can’t live without you, Shasha.”

“What are you talking about?”

“That’s exactly the problem.”

She wanted to scream that he’d gone insane, but swallowed the words.

‘This is my fault anyway.’

‘My medicine did this.’

Drawing a clear line now was the only way to avoid more trouble.

“…Get yourself together and leave when you’re able.”

“I’ll go downstairs and clean the shop first.”

“It’s probably a mess after being closed for days.”

After delivering that unilateral notice, Shana walked toward the door.

“Shasha, wait—Shasha!”

Ignoring him, she grabbed the doorknob and stepped forward.

That was when it happened.

Thud.

A heavy body collapsed behind her.

“Ugh—!”

She turned to see Lucian clutching his chest, fallen to the floor.

He writhed, gasping, unable to breathe properly.

“Ghk… huff…”

“Lucian!”

Shana rushed to his side.

“Lucian, what’s wrong?”

“Stay with me!”

He clawed at his collar, breathing in ragged bursts.

‘No way.’

‘A sudden cardiac attack?’

‘Could the drug’s side effects really be this severe?’

Checking his irregular breathing, Shana laid him flat and placed her hand over his chest.

“Lucian, can you hear me?”

“Lucian!”

She might have to start CPR at this rate.

As she reached for his shirt buttons, Lucian grabbed her wrist like a lifeline.

“Sha… Sha…”

Shana leaned closer to hear him.

“Thank goodness.”

“Shasha… you’re here.”

“…What?”

“Don’t leave.”

He said it firmly.

Shana froze.

‘Is he faking?’

But cold sweat drenched his neck and forehead, and his breathing was still unstable.

Too real for an act.

“When I’m with you…”

“It doesn’t hurt anymore.”

Even so, he smiled faintly, murmuring nonsense.

As if his words were true, his frantic heartbeat slowly settled.

Lucian brought Shana’s hand to his cheek and rubbed against it contentedly.

Left with no choice, she let him hold on.

After a while, his breathing evened out completely.

“…I’ll get a stethoscope.”

“Stay here.”

Just as Shana tried to stand, Lucian grabbed her wrist again.

His eyes were desperate.

“Don’t go, Shasha.”

He clutched his chest once more and looked up at her pleadingly.

“When you move away from me…”

“It feels like my heart is being torn apart.”

“Don’t talk nonsense.”

“That can’t be possible.”

“It’s true.”

“Please…”

It made no sense.

Pain whenever she left?

What kind of illness was that?

Yet Lucian showed no sign of letting go.

His gaze was frantic.

“…Then come with me.”

In the end, Shana gave in.

Lucian beamed like a child, practically clinging to her as they headed to the examination room.

This was already the third time Shana had opened Lucian’s shirt that day.

She pressed the cold stethoscope to his bare chest and listened carefully.

Nothing sounded abnormal.

“That’s strange.”

“Your pulse is completely normal.”

“So it only hurts when you’re away from me?”

She stared at him suspiciously.

Lucian smiled softly.

“I like it when you worry about me, Shasha.”

It was a dreamy, unfocused smile, unlike his usual self.

He was definitely not right in the head.