Cold -4-
Ricardo's voice reached her. The voice she'd thought she wouldn't hear for a long time grated into Olivia's ears like a sharp awl scraping an old pot—a harsh, metallic rasp.
His first words, always bright as ever, began by gauging her mood, just like always. Ricardo's playful tone, laced with mischief to lift her heavy heart regardless of her condition, started with a soft underline.
"Miss. Flirting like this hurts your butler's heart, you know."
The faint underline Ricardo drew carved a small wound of laughter into Olivia's darkness-shrouded heart.
"Haha... Do you need to kill me with a heart attack?"
His faint smile added another layer to the underline, drawing out a hollow laugh from her. At the same moment, a notification chimed.
Satisfactory Nursing for Ricardo. (1/1)
It was appraising her pathetic nursing efforts. Generously valuing her utter failure—she hadn't given him medicine, warm water, or even laid a hand on his forehead.
Olivia couldn't lift her head.
"What...?"
"What else? It's my review of waking up in the arms of the world's most beautiful girl."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Hm... Do it more often?"
Ricardo spouted childish nonsense. He was covering his cold-ridden mouth while lightly teasing his mistress. Olivia bit her lip at his considerate touch, demanding she stay back to avoid catching it.
Ricardo glanced at the clock and scratched the back of his head sheepishly.
"Sorry. I must've overslept because it was such a good dream."
Olivia's head drooped further at his cautious posture, hand over his mouth.
Every little action satisfied him. His childish jokes lifted her gloom, so her mood improved. Noticing her melancholy, Ricardo gently stroked her hair and opened his mouth carefully.
"How'd you get here?"
"Gomtangi brought me."
"As expected, smart like his owner."
"He's dumb."
"...Are you talking about the master? Or Gomtangi?"
"Both."
Ricardo let out a hollow chuckle at Olivia's firm reply and gently pushed her shoulders away.
"You'll catch my cold. Go back."
"I'm fine."
"Having two patients in the mansion would be a huge problem."
"Even if it's a problem, it's okay."
"I'm the one who'd have a problem."
About an hour passed. Ricardo gradually regained his energy. His breaths, like hot iron marbles in his throat, steadied, and his unfocused, hazy eyes cleared into sharp ones.
Leaning against the bed, Ricardo pinched Olivia's cheek with a playful smile, feeling its soft squish.
Olivia decided not to scold her cheeky butler's touch. He was the patient, after all. She'd let it slide today.
"Man, I nearly died. I saw my late grandma beckoning me from across the river, saying 'come here.'"
"You don't have a grandma, Ricardo."
"It's just a figure of speech."
Ricardo stretched exaggeratedly, pretending to be fine. Olivia instantly knew he wasn't okay from his trembling fingers. Even if she was clueless, she could tell that much.
His breaths were still ragged. If he were truly fine, he'd have gone to prepare breakfast by now. Olivia knew he was buying time in bed with his silly talk.
Olivia cautiously reached for his forehead.
"Does it hurt?"
"Sudden moves like that are called flirting."
"So... does it hurt?"
Ricardo overlaid his hand on hers and shook his head.
"No. I'm perfectly healthy."
His hot fever seeped into her palm along with his kind smile. Olivia felt her heart shrink.
"Don't lie. You're burning up."
"I'm really not hurting."
Ricardo bared his white teeth and flexed his sturdy bicep. His untrustworthy actions offered no comfort.
Olivia puffed her cheeks and scolded him. Why break their promise? Hadn't he sworn to tell her if he was sick? Pouring her anger into it, she told the awkwardly smiling Ricardo.
"You promised to tell me if you were sick."
"...Haha."
"How long ago was that promise, and you're breaking it already? Do you know how worried I was?"
"Sorry. I panicked because it hit so suddenly."
"Liar."
Olivia whipped her head away, showing her anger. The idiot butler wouldn't get it otherwise. She knew he'd never tell her he was hurting, no matter how many times.
She knew she couldn't help. She knew her clumsy nursing was worthless. But still... she wanted to try. That made her angrier. Her lips pouted.
It hurt, too. She was useless, unable to even bring him a cup of warm water. In her frustration, Olivia snapped curtly at Ricardo.
"Don't you trust me at all?"
"No, I trust you completely."
"If you trust me, why not tell me!"
"Because you'd worry."
Ricardo answered firmly.
"I hate making you suffer more than my own pain."
"I hate not knowing even more."
"Then too bad."
Olivia glared at the pumpkin-headed Ricardo's steadfast replies for a while. Unable to bear the awkward air, he fumbled with the blanket to get up.
"Jeez... I haven't prepped breakfast. Gotta go quick..."
"Don't go!"
"Pardon?"
"Rest today."
Ricardo smiled awkwardly, offering timid resistance that he couldn't.
"Aren't you hungry?"
"Not hungry."
"No maid today, either?"
"We'll starve."
"Oh..."
Ricardo crescent-eyed her with a dubious smile: 'The miss I know would die without food.' Olivia shook her head firmly, declaring her resolve.
"I'll cook today."
"Pardon?"
"Porridge."
"You're gonna kill me?"
"No!"
Olivia rolled up her sleeves.
"I'll make you porridge."
"Miss, I'm truly sorry, but..."
Ricardo said seriously, his eyes screaming he wouldn't let her cook no matter what.
He swallowed deeply and told her carefully.
"Your cooking is truly the worst."
"Eek...!"
Olivia threw timid punches at his chest. She knew they wouldn't dent his firm pecs, but his insolent words infuriated her.
"I'm cooking!"
"I don't wanna die young. Remember that 'chocolate' you made for Mikhail and fed me?"
"You ate it all yummy!"
"Passing out isn't 'yummy.'"
Ricardo shook his head at her despairing culinary skills, offering a curt review.
"I was confident in my poison resistance, but I never dreamed it'd pierce it. Thanks to my guinea pig stint, I probably saved Mikhail's life. He doesn't know, though."
Olivia hung her head and clenched her fists.
"So what!"
She huffed and punched him, and his stubbornness finally raised the white flag.
The resulting 'porridge' sat before the bed-bound Ricardo: a bowl of unidentified black liquid. Olivia wiped sweat from her brow and offered it.
"Here!"
"Looks like poison from the color?"
"No."
"Torture, then?"
"Eek!! Just eat it!"
Ricardo tilted his head at the chocolate smudged on her hand.
"Isn't this just melted chocolate?"
"Yeah."
"And that's porridge?"
"Chocolate porridge."
Banned from the kitchen, Olivia had melted her treasured chocolates from her pouch to make porridge.
And.
-Nom.
"Gahk...!"
Ricardo passed out.
Boil Porridge for Ricardo (1/1)
Olivia's cooking was abysmal.
* As always, night fell. The quiet night brought silent tidings and fear, just like ever.
Ricardo recovered his strength quickly. He claimed the porridge helped and quipped that this time he'd gone on a date holding grandma's hand—a clean review. Tasting the worst built his tolerance, and he was pleased.
"...Was it that bad?"
Olivia tilted her head at the leftovers she'd made, wondering if she should try a spoonful... but Ricardo's 'will' stopped her cold: 'Cough... If I die, put my forbidden books from my room in my coffin.'
Lying in bed, Olivia closed her eyes.
"Haa..."
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