Don't Remember Me - Chapter 71

Chapter 71

“Your efforts were truly remarkable. I sincerely thank you.”

“Oh no, Your Highness, it was only possible because of your complete support,” the physician responded, flustered, bowing deeply in respect.

His words were not mere pleasantries. In truth, he had received a great deal of help from Haven.

 It was thanks to the Duke that he had been granted temporary access to the royal library, a place reserved solely for the royal family, as well as the opportunity to work with the kingdom’s top physicians and researchers on the treatment of Dunfer’s disease. All of this was made possible by Haven’s unwavering support.

Without such help, they wouldn’t have been able to see results in such a short time.

“Now that we’ve gained a clue on how to treat Dunfer’s disease, and with a full recovery case in hand, it’s safe to say that everyone in this land owes their gratitude to His Grace.”

Illnesses come for all—whether noble or common, young or old—without discrimination. For that reason, it was only right that Haven was receiving praise from all corners.

But Haven had no intention of taking credit for the success. He simply smiled softly at the physician’s words and took a step toward the bed. The physician immediately moved aside.

Flitta, lying on the bed, sat up and gazed at Haven with clear eyes before speaking.

“… Dad?”

“Yes, Flitta.”

“Am I better now?”

“Yes.”

Without hesitation, Haven nodded at the child’s question. At the sight, Rosé turned her head slightly and pressed her fingers to the tip of her nose, holding back her emotions. Flitta, still looking at Haven with those clear, steady eyes, spoke again.

“Then… does that mean I don’t have to wear this anymore?”

Flitta was referring to the handkerchief she had been using to cover her face. Haven glanced briefly at the physician, who nodded immediately and answered with a smile.

“Of course, Your Highness. You’re completely better now.”

As soon as the words left the physician’s mouth, Flitta eagerly removed the handkerchief from her face.

“Hah…”

She took a deep breath, as if savoring the air. Even adults would find it suffocating to wear a handkerchief over their face all day long, but the young child had endured it patiently. Haven looked at Flitta with admiration, then gently untied his own handkerchief.

The physician, followed by Rosé, also removed their handkerchiefs. When Flitta saw them, she gave a shy smile, as if only now realizing that she was truly healed.

“You’ve worked hard, Your Highness. You’re free to leave the annex now.”

The physician, looking at Flitta with pride, smiled warmly. His words were not just about her recovery, but also about the fact that she could now return to the main building, which brought even more joy to her.

“Oh… um… okay.”

But Flitta, upon hearing the physician’s words, hesitated and took a moment before answering. Her reaction puzzled everyone in the room.

“Well, you’ve done well. It’s okay to leave now.”

At that moment, Haven turned his attention to the physician. The physician looked at Flitta in confusion but then bowed politely and exited the room.

Now, only Haven, Flitta, and Rosé remained.

“So, you don’t want to go back?”

After the physician left, Haven asked in a soft voice, looking at Flitta. Flitta was cautious, responding in a worried tone of voice. 

“Can I tell the truth?”

“Of course.”

“Actually… I don’t want to go back.”

Flitta admitted her feelings hesitantly. It was a huge change for the child, who had always been careful with her words and actions, often hiding her true desires to avoid causing trouble. For her to openly express that she didn’t want to go back was a significant shift.

That change filled Haven with both surprise and quiet joy. But he didn’t show it and kept his expression neutral as he calmly asked again.

“Why not?”

Perhaps it was his calmness that made Flita respond more openly. She spoke a little louder, her words clear and firm.

“Here, I made bread with Rosé, and we put syrup on it, and… we played house together. And when I ate cookies in bed while reading picture books, no one scolded me. The nanny would scold me for cookie crumbs, but Rosé… she let me do whatever I wanted here…”

As Flitta spoke, Haven glanced at Rosé. She lowered her gaze for a moment, feeling awkward, but then met his eyes again.

She could have been scolded for teaching the child such behavior—especially a noble child—but she had no regrets. She had done it knowing full well the consequences.

From an educational perspective, her approach might not have been ideal, particularly for someone of Flitta’s status. But to Rosé, Flitta was simply her child—a sick child at that. Rosé didn’t want her to feel the burden of “noble” behavior, even here. To heal, the child’s heart needed to be at ease, happy.

Beyond that, Rosé simply wanted Flitat to live like an ordinary child—carefree and joyful, without worrying about others’ expectations.

Haven, meeting Rosé’s gaze for a brief moment, then turned his attention back to Flita.

“If you want to live like you did here, you can do so in the main building. If you want to bake bread, I’ll allow that too.”

“…!”

It was an unexpected statement, one that left both Flitta and Rosé wide-eyed with surprise. Haven felt two pairs of matching looks on him and cleared his throat before continuing.

“Of course, you shouldn’t do it too often. Once a week should be enough.”

Seeing Flitta’s shoulders slump at his words, he quickly amended.

“Alright, once a week.”

At this, Flitta couldn’t help but clap her hands in joy.

“Wow!”

The joy on her face, her eyes shining with excitement, made Haven feel a little self-conscious—as if he had done something remarkable. He cleared his throat again and added with a note of caution.

“However, if you want to bake bread in the kitchen, you must first ask the head chef for permission. The kitchen is the chef’s domain, not your playground… Actually, no, forget that. I’ll just give you the annex. You can play in here instead.”

“Huh! Really?”

Flitta’s eyes grew wide with astonishment. Haven nodded at her enthusiasm.

While everything in the Duke’s domain technically belonged to him and was under his control, he couldn’t just take liberties with spaces meant for others. It was important to respect those who worked there. For someone like him, a space might be insignificant, but for others, it was their livelihood.

“I’ll take the annex! It’s better!”

Flitta clapped her hands excitedly. Her unrestrained happiness was refreshing and heartwarming to see.

As he watched Flitta’s face light up with joy, Haven felt a swelling of emotion. He squeezed her hand just a little tighter, holding back his feelings.

“Then let’s head out. I’m sure everyone is waiting for us.”

“Yes!” 

Flitta immediately hopped out of bed, her earlier hesitance completely forgotten. Haven extended his hand, and Flitta, after a moment’s hesitation, took it with a bright smile.

Her small hand, grasping his finger, felt warm. It reminded him of the first time he had carried her to the annex, when she had been feverish and weak. At that time, he could never have imagined that they would return together like this—healthy and happy.

In truth, their situation had been desperate back then.

But this small child had overcome it all—the terrifying illness.

Haven felt a surge of emotion and gripped her hand a little more firmly. He turned to Rosé and saw her gazing at their clasped hands. Her eyes were brimming with tears, and when their eyes met, she quickly lowered her gaze.

“…Rosé.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“You’ve worked hard… truly, thank you.”

“Not at all, Your Highness. What I did was small.” 

Rosé blinked, flustered by his gratitude. Her expression was sincere, showing that she genuinely didn’t think she deserved his praise. But Haven shook his head.

“You saved the child, thrice to be precise.”

She had saved Flitta from drowning, from being crushed under a chandelier, and now from the deadly illness.

The physician had called Flitta’s recovery a miracle, suggesting that it might have been impossible without divine intervention. But to Haven, that wasn’t the full story.

Most of it had to do with the child’s strong will to live, and with Rosé’s dedication to staying by her side and never giving up.

At least, that’s how it appeared to him.

“Thank you for saving her.”

“…I… I should be the one thanking you, Your Highness.”

Rosé, flustered by his praise, lowered her head again, unsure of what to say. Flita, watching the exchange, smiled softly and spoke.

“Oh, I should hold Rosé’s hand too.”

“…?”

Both Haven and Rosé exchanged puzzled glances. Flita turned to Haven and spoke again.

“You said it, Dad. You promised after I was better, we’d come back like this— holding hands with Rosé.”