The One Who Won't Be Abandoned - Chapter 26

When I opened my eyes, the sight of a worn wooden ceiling greeted me through my blurry vision. It was a familiar ceiling, as familiar as the scent of aged wood that tickled my nose. This was the cabin on Mount Kayal.

The air felt cool against my face, which was uncovered by the blanket. It seemed to be just before dawn, with the sun barely peeking over the horizon.

In my drowsy state, I blinked slowly, undecided whether to drift back to sleep or rise and start the day.

It was then that I felt something wrap around my waist. Only then did I realize Andre was beside me. So natural, so familiar. Andre, who always shared this bed with me. The kind child who would embrace me and share his warmth when I shivered in the cool early hours. Andre, whose body always smelled sweet as he nestled snugly in my arms.

“Jeanne.”

Andre stirred, rubbing his eyes as if waking from sleep. I decided to stay in bed with him a little longer and closed my eyes again. I embraced him as he wrapped his arms around my waist, patting his back soothingly.

“Go back to sleep.”

“Jeanne.”

Andre mumbled, his face buried against my chest, his breath tickling me lightly where it touched.

“Jeanne. Jeanne.”

When I didn’t respond, he kept repeating my name.

“Jeanne. Jeanne.”

Before long, Andre’s voice, calling my name, began to deepen into a low baritone.

“Jeanne, I missed you.”

“I’ve come home. I’ve returned to you.”

The voice was no longer that of a child. It was the voice of a grown man, one that could only come from a broad and sturdy neck. Yet I felt no unease. I simply nuzzled my cheek against the crown of Andre’s head, who nestled warmly in my arms.

“Home, to you. Finally.”

Andre, who had been resting his face against my chest, began to rise. No, his body was swelling, growing larger. Our noses brushed as we came face-to-face, but in an instant, he towered over me. His blue eyes, brimming with fiery delight, briefly met mine.

“Jeanne.”

The arm wrapped around my waist thickened and lengthened, easily encircling me with just one arm. Muscles bulged, and the veins on his arm stood out as he began to squeeze my waist tightly.

“Ah, it hurts.”

“I’ve finally come back to you.”

Whether he couldn’t hear me or didn’t care, Andre’s enormous body continued to press down on me.

I couldn’t breathe. I could barely endure it. I struggled to break free from him, but the giant Andre wouldn’t budge, pressing me down with overwhelming strength.

“I’m going to… die… I’m going to… die…”

Death loomed before me.

“Ah, Andre…”

“Yes, I’m here.”

Someone gently grasped my flailing hand. I clung to that hand as if it were a lifeline.

But the crushing weight of Andre on my body didn’t ease. It only grew heavier and stronger, pressing me down with a force that no human could possess—more like the weight of a horse or an ox.

“Andre…”

I wanted to scream, to beg him to move away from me, but my lips refused to obey. I writhed in agony, and the person holding my hand tried to comfort me.

“Open your eyes, Jeanne. I’m here.”

The voice whispered softly in my ear. But at that moment, the pressure squeezing my body intensified. With a sickening crack, I felt my spine snap.

“Aaaaah!”

The searing pain in my lower back jolted me awake, and I screamed, thrashing violently.

“Jeanne!”

A man, unfamiliar yet familiar, embraced me tightly. Overwhelmed by the lingering fear from the dream, I instinctively flinched and struggled to break free from his hold.

Sensing my fear, the man reluctantly let me go with a bittersweet expression. The moment I was free, I scrambled to the edge of the bed, distancing myself from him.

I hastily looked around and realized I was in my small room at Drehel Castle. The familiar surroundings helped calm my racing heart. Then, the memories came flooding back—the moments leading up to my collapse.

Now fully alert, I was able to look at Andre properly—the one responsible for the nightmare that left me dreaming of broken spines and, for the first time in my life, fainting. The very person who had caused all this now stood before me.

Fueled by a surge of emotions, I lunged at Andre, grabbing him by the collar and shaking him violently as I yelled.

“Were you trying to kill me?! You were trying to kill me!”

“No, no! It was an accident. I’m sorry, Jeanne.”

“You’re not Andre, are you? You can’t be! There’s no way the boy I know grew up into such a brute with this monstrous strength!”

“Jeanne…”

“Huff!”

A wave of pain surged through me, remnants of the dream’s aftermath exacerbating my current state. I hunched my shoulders, the pain intensifying with every breath.

“Ah… Ah…”

“Lie down. You shouldn’t overdo it.”

“Why… why does it hurt so much…?”

“Your ribs are badly bruised. I’m really sorry, Jeanne.”

Gently, Andre pried my hands from his collar and guided me back to the bed. As I lay flat and allowed my body to relax, the pain subsided slightly.

“You’ll need to rest for a while. I’ll stay by your side.”

Andre pulled the blanket up to my chin and adjusted the bedding with care. As he moved, I noticed his large hands, covered with small and large scars.

“Ah, water. You must be thirsty.”

At some point, he had prepared a pitcher and cup. Andre poured some water, then slipped one hand behind my neck to support me as he helped me sit up.

“Ugh…”

“Slowly.”

He brought the cup to my lips and tilted it carefully, helping me drink.

After taking a few sips, I pulled away, and Andre quickly set the cup down. Then, with a gentle touch, he wiped the droplets from my lips with his fingers.

“Now, lie back down slowly.”

As I settled back, the pain radiating through my chest and sides made it clear that my condition was worse than I had initially thought. Andre, meanwhile, was treating me as if I were on the verge of death, his care almost overwhelming.

Lying on the bed, I asked hesitantly, “Am I… going to die?”

Andre’s expression, filled with guilt and concern, froze.

“Don’t say that. You’re not going to die.”

“Then… is something permanently damaged? Am I going to live with a disability forever?”

“Stop saying such things.”

Despite the chill in his voice, Andre’s hand remained gentle as he brushed away strands of hair stuck to my cheek.

His serious tone reassured me that there was no major damage to my body, allowing me to finally relax.

“Andre, from now on, don’t hug me.”

“What?”

Andre looked at me as though I’d just said something unbelievable.

“I said don’t hug me. Are you trying to kill someone? I really thought I was going to die.”

“I just… I was happy to see you again. It won’t happen again.”

“Don’t hug me, I said. You’re an adult now, Andre. You can’t go around hugging any woman like that.”

“Are you ‘any woman’?”

Avoiding his slightly stunned gaze, I straightened my posture and closed my eyes as if to signal the conversation was over.

“Neither of us can afford to ruin our prospects for marriage.”

“…”

Andre didn’t reply. Before long, sleep began to overtake me again, the residual shock of fainting leaving me mentally and physically drained.

“If we mess up our prospects, we can just marry each other.”

Pfft.

Just before sleep fully claimed me, his playful remark drew a small laugh from me.

Now that we had exchanged a few words, I felt like I could finally see Andre clearly. The initial rejection I had felt toward his changed appearance seemed almost ridiculous. Inside, Andre was exactly the same as before—unchanged, as if time had no effect on him.

His gaze was filled with trust and comfort, the same as when we were together years ago. His eyes held no hint of suspicion or distance, only a gentle warmth. Even his touch, a mix of guilt and shyness, felt as natural as ever.

I had finally come to recognize Andre for who he truly was. Despite the years apart, despite his unfamiliar, grown appearance, Andre was still Andre—my Andre. The boy who had once been my quiet and endearing young master.

The unease and strangeness I had felt toward him earlier had vanished, as if they were emotions I was never supposed to harbor.

Drowsily, I murmured to him, “Welcome back.”

“…Yeah.”

A calloused but gentle hand rested on my head, stroking my hair tenderly. The warmth from that touch brought a wave of sleep that had been waiting for its moment, and I succumbed to it.

It wasn’t until a few days later that I finally got out of bed.

For days, I had only been wiping my body with a damp cloth, but the lingering discomfort became unbearable. I decided to visit the communal bath to wash properly.

When I undressed for the bath, I saw the bruises and clenched my teeth, silently cursing Andre. My fair skin was marred with dark purple bruises that seemed to be at their peak.

Although I knew the bruises would fade in time, the sheer number and intensity of them made my anger flare.

The real reason I had pushed myself to leave my bed earlier than I would’ve liked was also Andre. His constant visits to my room had become intolerable. His massive frame made the already small space feel even more cramped and stifling.

After bathing and changing into my maid uniform, I went to Madam Judith to officially request permission to return to work.

However, I didn’t even reach my assigned area before I was intercepted by a visibly anxious Harmon. He was Andre’s personal servant.

Harmon grabbed me with such urgency that I thought some calamity had struck, but he hesitated to speak.

“What is it? If you don’t tell me quickly, I’m leaving.”

“Well, uh… that is….”

“Harmon, out with it.”

Frustrated, I turned to walk away, but Harmon frantically motioned for me to stop. After glancing around to make sure no one was nearby, he finally spoke, his face pale and dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep.

“Do you think… has the young master always been like this?”

“Like what?”

“I mean… last night….”

Growing impatient, I lightly smacked Harmon’s shoulder and urged him to get to the point. It took him a long while, but he eventually gathered the courage to speak.

“I think… I think the young master has gotten involved in some sort of strange religion!”

“What are you talking about?”

Harmon nervously scanned the area again before leaning closer and whispering.

“At first, he decorated his table with these weird rags and flintstones, like they were some kind of trophies. I thought maybe they were meaningful to him or something. He told me not to touch them or even dust the table. So, I figured they must be valuable.”

“And then?”

“But last night… I saw something. It wasn’t normal.”

Harmon paused, swallowing hard as if bracing himself for what he was about to say.

“He was kneeling in front of those things. I only saw his back, but he was doing something. I swear.”