On the road, inside the carriage that had been moving for ten minutes, Athena sat across from Gilbert, resting her chin on her hand as she watched the passing scenery. Gilbert, meanwhile, quietly read the book he had brought along, saying not a word the entire journey.
After a while, Athena glanced at his features, breaking the silence.
"You look pale. Didn't you get enough sleep last night? You can rest here; the carriage barely shakes, you know…"
Gilbert answered without lifting his eyes from the book.
"Don't worry. Perhaps last night's fatigue is still affecting me. What about you? How was your night there?"
"Nothing noteworthy… I'm fine, as you can see. But… how long will you keep pretending? I can tell from the first glance you're not well. Is it a fever? It isn't too bad, right? You're not in pain, are you?"
"You ask too many questions, as always… I told you I'm fine. Don't worry about me; I'm in good health."
"Then, did you take your medicine? At least don't let your health deteriorate, and we still haven't passed the entrance exams… There's still much to worry about later."
"…"
"Why aren't you answering?"
Gilbert closed his eyes, pressing his fingertips against his forehead, shutting the book, and spoke in a low voice:
"Athena… your questions give me a headache. I told you not to worry about me, so why do you continue asking?"
At that moment, he felt a cold hand on his forehead beneath his hair. She spoke hesitantly:
"I can tell your body is burning… Why don't you say something when you're in such a state? I'll keep bothering you if you don't listen to me. So take the medicine and rest a little."
After saying this, Athena returned to her seat and handed him a small box containing food and medicine, tossing it into Gilbert's lap after taking the book from him.
"I know you usually skip breakfast, but you need to eat now before taking the medicine. Before we left the inn, I asked them to prepare some food just in case."
Gilbert sighed, took a bite of the sandwich, and muttered:
"Do I really look like a child who needs caring for? This minor discomfort won't kill me."
After the first bite, he felt his stomach contract. Covering his mouth, he lowered his head.
'This is why I dislike breakfast…'
After a moment, the nausea eased, and he took the medicine. He returned the box to Athena and spoke quietly:
"I did as you asked, so don't bother me now."
"But you barely ate anything."
"…"
Instead of replying, Athena was met with silence. Calm returned once more as she realized Gilbert had actually fallen asleep. She smiled faintly and looked back outside the carriage.
'His old habits from the past are returning… I wonder if he'll try to avoid me like he used to back then…'
Athena let out a soft, slightly bitter laugh as she recalled some past moments. She quickly pushed the thoughts aside and gazed at the clear blue sky, speaking quietly to herself:
"The weather seems nice today. I hope this peace lasts a little longer…"
At that moment, Ethan, who was driving the carriage, interrupted the small moment of peace, addressing Athena with a teasing tone:
"Seems like you're being ignored again, my lady."
Athena's calm expression changed, her brows furrowing as she looked up at the sky in irritation.
"Shut up, Ethan."
Ethan responded with a mocking laugh, adding:
"Since you love my voice so much, how about a little chatter?"
"No, thank you," she said.
Athena let out a long sigh, pinching the area just above the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger in an attempt to ease the headache.
What Athena didn't realize was that Gilbert wasn't actually asleep. He had been listening to every word she said, a faint, barely noticeable smile playing on his lips as he thought:
'Annoying as always… but the only one who doesn't leave me alone. That makes it… bearable.'
As the carriage journeyed smoothly from one city to the next, the long hours inside neared their end. The road slowly swallowed the sound of the wheels, and the sky appeared deceptively clear, as if deliberately hiding what lay beyond.
Everything felt too quiet, like fragile calmness on the verge of shattering at the first gust of wind.
At that moment, no one realized that this serenity was merely the calm before a storm, patiently awaiting its arrival.