Chapter 16
“So. How is her condition?”
“P-Pardon?”
Piril, who was disinfecting Letricia’s scratches, jumped in surprise at the chilling voice from behind, his hands trembling.
The forceps slipped from his hands and fell to the floor. The clear ringing sound echoed thoughtlessly through the air.
“I-I’m sorry! I’ll pick it up right away!”
Piril wiped his foggy glasses vigorously and bent down.
Pretending to pick up the forceps, he wiped the sweat from his philtrum with his sleeve.
‘What in the world is this situation?’
Piril couldn’t understand the situation at all. Why was Grand Duke Heberus here?
He had only come here following a Silvano Knight to find someone.
A few days ago, when Piril was still struggling to find a way to treat Letricia’s illness, a package arrived for him.
Inside the suspicious package, which had no sender or return address, was just one book.
Even Piril, who prided himself on having read every medical book in the Empire, had never seen this book before.
Still, thanks to that book, he was able to find a clue about Letricia’s illness.
‘But the person who sent that book was Grand Duke Heberus?’
Click. After pushing up his glasses that had slid down his nose, Piril straightened his posture.
His eyes, behind the greasy, opaque glasses, examined Letricia.
“The young lady seems to have no major external injuries except for some minor scratches.”
“Are you sure? Then why did she lose consciousness? Her vision seemed blurry too.”
Killian, who had been resting his chin in his chair, removed his hand from his face.
That hand moved near his silvery hair and tapped the back of his head.
“She seems to have hit her head when she fell. Could that have caused any problems?”
“No. Your Highness, ah, I’m not sure if I should say this, but…”
“Continue.”
As Piril looked around nervously trying to find appropriate words to use before the Grand Duke, Killian waved his hand dismissively.
“Because Your Highness’s body absorbed the impact like this pillow, the shock the young lady received wouldn’t have been too severe.”
Noticing Killian’s awkward movement in one arm, Piril nodded.
“The young lady lost consciousness because of her illness. The tumor-like mass in her head temporarily stimulated her optic nerve.”
While taking out treatment tools for Killian’s broken bone, Piril observed his expression.
As expected, Killian showed no particular reaction, as if hearing something he already knew.
“But as I said, it’s a temporary phenomenon, so she’ll be fine soon. Your Highness. However…”
“What else?”
Piril hesitated before taking out the bookmark Pel had given him from his inner pocket.
“Your knight gave this to me. Perhaps… was it Your Highness who sent me the book about the young lady’s illness?”
“Yes. That’s why I sent you that bookmark today.”
“But how did Your Highness know about an illness that even doctors don’t know about… and why send it to me…”
Disjointed words flowed from Piril’s mouth in bewilderment.
“Well, I thought you might be able to cure Letricia’s illness?”
“Ah… I apologize, Your Highness. I’m not capable of that. Without the book you provided, I wouldn’t even have identified the young lady’s illness. In fact, I still can’t even grasp what’s causing it.”
At Piril’s skeptical words, Killian tilted his head askew.
“How long have you been appointed as House Esta’s physician?”
“Why do you suddenly ask that… it must be over 20 years.”
“Then you were with House Esta when there was a carriage accident the year Letricia was adopted.”
“Yes, that’s right? The young lady was rescued safely then, but she had severely injured her head. So I personally used magic stones to treat…”
Piril, who had been answering while searching through hazy memories, suddenly opened his eyes wide as if struck by lightning.
“Could it be that the treatment I performed then caused the problem?”
“Indeed, you’re too good to be just House Esta’s physician. You’re quite perceptive.”
Feeling quite satisfied with Piril’s quick understanding, Killian fiddled with his broken arm.
“Correct. The magic from the magic stone you used then met with a blood clot in her brain and formed a mass.”
These were all facts that Piril had discovered over two and a half years in the previous regression.
Of course, it would be best to simply tell him how to make the cure directly instead of beating around the bush like this.
Unfortunately, the past Killian had only heard about the cure being developed but didn’t know the specific details, so that was impossible.
Still, even with this much information, Piril should be able to quickly find the thread leading to a treatment method.
“That…”
Meanwhile, shocked by Killian’s words, Piril was rubbing his dry lips.
“I, I only used the magic stone to save the young lady’s life… I truly had no other intention!”
“I know. That was your best treatment option at the time. But regardless of intention, isn’t it true that you bear some responsibility for Letricia’s illness?”
“That…”
“I’ll give you one year.”
Crunch.
After resetting the misaligned bone without changing expression, Killian extended his aligned arm to Piril, who was holding the splint.
The entire process was so unnaturally calm that cold sweat ran down Piril’s spine.
“Find a cure within that time. That is, if you want your head to remain safely attached to your body after a year.”
* * *
“Th-then I’ll take my leave now, Your Highness. I have so much research material to look through!”
As soon as he finished organizing the splints and bandages used to treat Killian’s arm, Piril, looking thoroughly frightened, practically ran out of the room.
Creeak-Slam.
After watching the stiff door close from disuse, Killian sank into the chair placed in front of the bed.
“Huu.”
Letting out a tired sigh, Killian took out a cigar from its case.
With the cigar in his mouth, Killian leaned back against the chair’s headrest.
“Everything’s going smoothly.”
Click, snap.
His hand without bandages played with the lighter, repeatedly opening and closing its lid.
Now, what should he do next?
His blue eyes, their threatening aura subsided, wandered vaguely around the ceiling.
He had found a doctor to research the cure. He had also secured a justification to keep Letricia by his side by exchanging marriage vows before the Emperor.
But one question kept nagging at him like a splinter under his nail.
Letricia had already abandoned him and left in the past – what guarantee was there that she would quietly stay by his side in this life?
Thinking of the Letricia from the past life, the possibility seemed slim.
Killian’s jaw muscles tensed as he recalled Letricia, who always wore an expression like she might disappear somewhere at any moment, as if she had no attachments to this world.
“If she left because she had no attachments, then I just need to create some.”
Yes. If Letricia left in her past life because she had no reason to stay by Killian’s side, then in this life, he just needs to create reasons she can’t leave.
A compelling reason that would make her unable to even think of leaving his side, like a desperate attachment.
Creeak.
Killian chewed on his cigar as he leaned back in his chair.
“Then what would make a good attachment?”
Vast wealth? An overwhelming military force that could take lives with just a gesture?
Or perhaps letting her do lots of things she likes?
But… what does Letricia like?
“Damn it.”
Killian cursed as he tried to think of various possibilities.
He couldn’t remember what might appeal to Letricia.
He could remember things like the cure, but he couldn’t remember what Letricia liked, what she enjoyed doing, or what thoughts she lived with.
It made sense.
The past Killian, who spent most of his time wandering outside, had never been curious about such things.
“I’m getting irritated at my past self all of a sudden.”
Killian, who had been about to light his cigar irritably, stopped his hand.
Then snap, he broke the cigar in half.
He remembered Letricia repeatedly coughing sharply beside him when he used to smoke cigars.
“Ah. Come to think of it, I do know one thing she liked. I think she liked drawing…”
Tossing the crushed cigar onto the table, Killian searched his pocket and pulled out a notebook the size of his palm.
A few items he had on him during regression had traveled back in time with him, including the ring he shared with Letricia and this notebook.
The navy notebook, worn with use, had yellow wildflowers drawn on it.
It had Braille engraved in the center and was something Killian had once given to Letricia – the only trace she had left behind when she left the Grand Duke’s castle.
Lost in thought while tracing the flower Letricia had drawn herself, Killian called for Mark, who was guarding the door.
“You called, my lord?”
“Mark. Where’s the largest art supply store around here?”
“Probably near Aerubel Square. But why are you looking for an art store? Surely you’re not planning to use it yourself, my lord?”
Mark’s expression became peculiar, perhaps imagining Killian holding a brush instead of a sword or pen.
At that look in his eyes, as if wondering why he was suddenly looking for something he’d never visited in his life, Killian pointed to Letricia.
“Not for me, for her.”
“For Lady Esta?”
“Yes. I thought I’d try to win her favor. Give her something she likes.”
“Pardon…?”
Mark’s expression became even more mysterious at Killian’s answer.
Being of such a straightforward, bear-like nature, though he didn’t show it, Mark was internally making as much fuss as Pel would.
Not only had his lord suddenly formed a marital bond with Lady Esta…
But now their lord, who had never shown interest in others his entire life, was trying to impress someone by preparing gifts. It was as likely as the sun rising in the west.
‘Pel will cause another commotion if he finds out about this.’
Mark shook his head vigorously, imagining Pel chattering away excitedly like a wren.
Just thinking about it made his ears feel noisy.
“Mark, why are you standing there blankly? We need to go before Letricia wakes up, so let’s move.”
“What? Where are you going… surely not the art store?”
Mark’s eyes turned toward the crescent moon high in the sky.
The clock was just moving toward midnight.
In other words, this was a time when art stores would be closed, not open.
When he said this, Killian looked at Mark with an expression that seemed to ask ‘so what?’
“If it’s closed, we’ll just have them open it, won’t we?”
“I… will obey.”
At Killian’s attitude that seemed to say not to explain such trivial things, Mark tightly closed his eyes.
It seemed his lord had become somewhat strange since leaving the banquet hall.
