Don't Remember Me - Chapter 60

Chapter 60

Haven asked with a look of confusion. As one of the Princes, he had received a high-level education in various fields, including medicine. However, he had never come across any reference to a disease called Dunfer’s in any of the texts he had studied. Even the royal tutors had never mentioned such a disease.

“It was discovered long ago—about 500 years back. Since then, it vanished without a trace, and everyone forgot about it. However, as someone interested in the history of medicine, I… I apologize, Your Highness. Even so, I failed to recognize the princess’s condition.”

The physician bowed his head in shame, knowing he had exacerbated the situation by not identifying the illness.

“That’s understandable. A disease that disappeared so long ago… How could you possibly connect the child’s symptoms to it?” Haven replied calmly, refraining from blaming or expressing anger toward the physician. Yet, his expression was one of profound distress.

As Haven’s eyes met those of the anxious child lying on the bed, he forced a smile, holding Flitta’s hand tightly. 

“Don’t worry, Flitta. I promise you will get better.”

“Mm, yes… yes. Cough!” 

Flitta coughed painfully as she replied. Watching this, Rosé clutched her skirt tightly, fighting back tears. At that moment, hurried footsteps echoed outside, and the door burst open.

“Your Highness!” 

“Sir Pedwin, be quiet…” Haven began, intending to warn the newcomer, but Pedwin spoke up first, panic-stricken.

“We received a letter from Middlepion! It was sent directly by Count Vhurel, and it seems… Your Highness needs to see it urgently. There are children suffering from a disease similar to the princess’s…”

Pedwin struggled to catch his breath, his words fragmented from running, but Haven understood the gravity of the situation. With a tense expression, he took the letter Pedwin offered and unfolded it.

“… They’re dead.”

As Haven read, he almost let slip a murmured exclamation before hastily closing his mouth. Rosé looked at him anxiously, then at the crumpled letter in his hands. Just seeing how tightly he gripped it indicated how deeply troubled he was. Moreover, the words he had almost uttered…

“Your Highness.” 

Rosé called out with her voice trembling. Haven, his gaze still fixed on the letter, turned to meet her eyes, where despair loomed within his blue depths.

‘… No, it can’t be. Our Flitta, our child…’

“The physician must examine her again, so everyone should leave,” Haven said in a subdued voice, resonating through the room. He leaned slightly toward Flitta and spoke gently.

“I’ll step outside for a moment, Flitta. If there are too many people around, it can distract the physician… You will be fine, right?”

“You’re going out? Rosé too?” Flitta asked, her eyes filled with fear as she searched for Rosé.

Rosé quickly approached and took the child’s small hand in hers, reassuring her. 

“While the attending physician is examining you, I have something to prepare. I need to prepare a few things in order to stay by your side.”

“Will you stay by me? Will you always be here?” Flitta coughed, anxious.

“Of course.” Rosé fought back tears as she replied. Flitta’s face relaxed slightly, and she nodded.

“Okay! You must come back quickly!” 

“Yes, my lady. I’ll return shortly.”

After making a firm promise to Flitta, Ro stepped back. Haven watched her before turning away, followed by Pedwin and the other attendants who left the room.

Rosé lingered a moment longer, glancing back before stepping into the corridor. Haven outside alone after everyone dispersed. 

“Your Highness, what did the letter from Middlepion say?” 

She asked, immediately curious upon seeing him. It was an impertinent question for a mere servant to ask, but Rosé felt there was no time to consider propriety. Flitta’s well-being was paramount.

Haven seemed to understand her urgency and didn’t reprimand her. In fact, he would have shared the information even without her asking.

“It says an epidemic has broken out in Middlepion. Apparently, Count Vhurel was unaware that the disease is Dunfer’s. It’s not surprising that ordinary healers wouldn’t recognize a long-forgotten illness. I had never heard of it myself…”

“And what about the children who fell ill?” Rosé interrupted, her anxiety prompting her to cut him off.

Haven’s expression hardened as he fell silent. Just then, his tense hand caught her attention. His knuckles were white from how tightly he was gripping the letter.

“…” 

Seeing his distress, Rosé fell silent, fully understanding the pain in his heart. His emotions mirrored her own, as a parent’s anguish over a sick child would resonate deeply.

All they could do was hope for a successful treatment.

Yet, he was alone in this. 

To Flitta, he was both father and mother, shouldering the burden of two roles. The weight of his sorrow must be immense.

As Rosé felt her heart constrict, she instinctively clutched her own clothing. Haven’s voice finally broke the silence, slow and heavy.

“… So far, there haven’t been any surviving children. The boy we brought to the healer—his condition seemed to improve briefly but then deteriorated rapidly, before he died.”

“…” 

Rosé squeezed her eyes shut against the devastating news, her lashes trembling. Haven sighed and continued.

“Count Vhurel likely sent the letter out of concern upon hearing the news. I believe he heard that Flitta had been in close proximity to the deceased child.”

Disguising themselves in ordinary clothes might have helped avoid attention, but it was hard to determine whether that was fortunate or unfortunate now.

The count’s letter alone couldn’t provide a solution to save Flitta.

In the heavy silence that followed, the physician eventually emerged from the room.

“Ah, Your Highness.”

“How is Flitta?”

“I administered fever-reducing and pain-relieving medications. She seems to be resting more comfortably now.”

“Ah… that’s a relief.” 

Both Haven and Rosé exhaled, their faces reflecting a shared sense of relief, knowing that at least Flitta’s pain had been alleviated, even if the treatment itself was still uncertain.

“However, Your Highness, there is something I must tell you.”

“…?”

Haven, still sighing in relief, turned to the physician with curiosity. The physician furrowed his brow, hesitating before reluctantly continuing.

“We cannot keep the princess here.”

“… What?” 

Haven’s expression froze, and Rosé looked at the physician, wide-eyed and confused.

“We’ve confirmed it’s a contagious disease, so the princess must be isolated elsewhere.”

“Isolated?”

“Yes, Your Highness. We can allow one attendant to accompany her, but she cannot leave until she is completely cured. It must be done to prevent further spread.”

“You mean… you want to confine Flitta alone?” 

“That’s the only way to stop the disease from spreading. For all we know, it could already be spreading in the grand duchy. The maid, and, well, even the Grand Duke himself may be at risk.”

The physician glanced briefly at Rosé before turning back to Haven with firmness.

“Identify anyone exhibiting symptoms of a cold and isolate them in a separate area. And…”

As Haven listened to the physician, his expression twisted in distress. He rubbed his face with both hands, causing his neatly styled hair to fall messily over his forehead.

He knew well that the physician’s words were correct. Logically, he should give the order to do so immediately. But, as he thought about it, he found it far from easy.

Isolating Flitta.

Where on earth would he send her?

Was it right to confine an already sick child, even with a caretaker by her side?

He clenched his teeth, feeling the weight of words he didn’t want to say, his voice barely escaping him.

“That…”

“I will go with her,” Rosé interjected just as Haven was about to speak. 

He looked up at her, noticing her pale face, which was set with determination as she repeated her assertion.

“I will go in with the princess. I promise to take care of her, so please allow it, Your Highness.”

“You’ll be uncomfortable with your arm. There’s no need for you to go in. A maid who assists the physician might be better suited for caring for a sick child, or even the child’s nurse could…”

“My arm may be a bit uncomfortable, but it’s not to the point where I can’t work. Besides, I’m the one who traveled to Middlepion with the princess, Your Highness.”

Rosé cut him off, her voice steady.

“So I believe it would be best for me to go in. It would be safer than sending someone else who has had less exposure to the disease. Wouldn’t you agree, physician?”