Ch#208
It was three days later when Lucas finally regained consciousness.
By some stroke of luck, his vocal cords had escaped permanent damage, so there seemed to be no major issue with his speech. However, the aftermath of the injury manifested in an unexpected way.
Lucas had absolutely no memory of how he had been injured. Fortunately, he hadn’t lost all his memories, but there appeared to be a significant gap in the trajectory of his life since the age of sixteen.
“Considering his cervical vertebrae were nearly crushed, it is nothing short of a miracle that the aftereffects are limited to this,” the High Priest said with a sigh of relief after a careful examination of Lucas’s condition.
“In the worst-case scenario, he could have faced full-body paralysis or cognitive decline so severe he wouldn’t be able to distinguish right from wrong. In Young Master Lucas’s case, however, there seem to be no lingering symptoms other than partial memory loss.”
Sighs of relief escaped from those gathered around the bed. Yet, Lucas himself seemed unable to accept the High Priest’s words.
Lying askew on the bed, looking gaunt, Lucas grimaced and grumbled in a small voice.
“My head feels like a jumbled mess, as if someone hacked it to pieces. What part of this is a miracle?”
His voice had turned lower and raspier than before. A deep furrow formed between his brows as if he found the change distasteful.
“Even my voice is in this state.”
“I thought you were going to die.”
Laina, who had been sitting by the bed sobbing the entire time, spoke as she blew her nose into a handkerchief.
“I was so scared you wouldn’t be normal even if you woke up. I’m just so glad it ended with you being only slightly stupider than usual.”
Lucas glared at his younger sister with narrowed eyes.
“Is that supposed to be a comfort?”
Though he clicked his tongue in disbelief, he gently stroked the head of his sister, who couldn’t stop crying.
Varkas, who had been watching the scene from the doorway, stepped toward the bed and posed a question.
“Do you truly remember nothing of how you came to be injured?”
Lucas looked up at him with a confused expression. His eyes, which usually held a bright amber hue, were now tinged with a dark brown shade.
“I…”
As Lucas struggled to trace back his memories, he suddenly clutched his temples and let out a low groan.
Seeing this, Laina jumped up and threw her arms around Lucas’s head.
“You don’t need to remember!”
She then looked straight up at Varkas and snapped sharply.
“Lucas was unconscious for nearly fifteen days and has only just come to. Is there a reason you must force him to relive the memory of nearly losing his life right now?”
Lucas, looking flustered, pulled at his sister’s sleeve to restrain her, but Laina stood her ground.
Varkas, looking down at them with his arms crossed over his chest, stepped back from the bed with a low sigh.
“Rest until you are fully recovered. Baredon will take over all duties assigned to you for the time being.”
The furrow between Lucas’s brows deepened again. He seemed to barely even recall what duties he had been handling.
Varkas observed his brother’s face, which was beginning to bead with cold sweat from the intense headache, and then left the room without further hesitation.
In the hallway, vassals who had heard the news of Lucas regaining consciousness had gathered.
Varkas passed them indifferently and headed down the stairs. It was then that the Head Maid urgently called out to stop him.
“Your Excellency.”
Varkas, about to take the final step, turned his head.
The sturdy woman approached with a face clear with tension and spoke cautiously.
“Since Young Master Lucas has awakened safely, will you now lift the Grand Duchess’s house arrest?”
Varkas frowned.
Having been hounded for the past several days by vassals insisting that the punishment given to the Grand Duchess was too lenient, a sharp reply escaped him naturally.
“Since when has the Head Maid risen to a position where she can question the treatment of the Grand Duchess?”
At the high-handed reprimand, the Head Maid’s sturdy shoulders stiffened.
Varkas looked down at her pale face with a cold gaze before turning back to descend the stairs. He intended to cross the hall and head out of the castle, but the Head Maid pursued him once more.
“I—I know this is overstepping my bounds. But…”
Having dared to block his path, the Head Maid spoke haltingly, her face tense.
Varkas looked down at her with a look of annoyance.
Perhaps lacking the courage to meet his eyes, the woman kept her gaze fixed on the floor as the words poured out of her quickly.
“I am reporting this because I fear something truly terrible will happen if the Grand Duchess is left like this. Could you please reconsider her treatment now?”
Varkas’s eyebrows shot up at the woman’s unexpected plea.
Everyone in this castle looked unfavorably upon Talia, viewing her as the source of the accidents that had occurred in succession. This Head Maid was no exception.
Though she hadn’t displayed her animosity as overtly as the other vassals, he knew she found the Grand Duchess distasteful. He had only left her in her position because she had not neglected her duties as Head Maid.
To begin with, few would willingly serve Talia, who bristled like a hedgehog, pricking everyone around her.
That was why he had primarily assigned people to her who possessed great patience and a clear sense of professional duty.
This Head Maid was one of those selected individuals. For such a woman to step forward so desperately meant something unusual was happening.
His expression shifting instantly, Varkas asked in a grave tone.
“What is the state of her condition?”
“Since moving her residence to the Annex… she has been refusing to eat.”
At the hesitant answer, Varkas’s face contorted slightly.
He clenched his fists and stared out past the frost-covered garden. Near the castle gates, his subordinates stood in line, waiting for his departure. He had been scheduled to head to the meeting hall with them this morning. There was a mountain of administrative work to resolve, including the issue of selecting new lords to manage the Northeast region. He had no energy left to indulge her tantrums.
He spoke harshly.
“It isn’t as if the Grand Duchess going on a hunger strike is a new occurrence.”
The Head Maid’s lips pressed into a hard line.
As if ignoring her, he added as he stepped toward the castle exit.
“Leave her be. She’ll tire of it soon enough.”
But as he moved to descend the steps, an urgent voice rang out behind him.
“It is not at that level. I have reported this despite knowing it is an impertinence because the situation is dire.”
Varkas’s footsteps came to a dead stop.
The woman approached him again and continued with a grim face.
“According to the Grand Duchess’s personal maids, she hasn’t touched a single drop of water, let alone food. In the past, she would at least occasionally consume things like mead or dried fruit, but now she is truly ingesting nothing. If she is left like this, I fear something terrible will happen…”
The woman trailed off and fell silent.
He stood frozen like prey caught in a snare, staring only at the ground.
How long did he stay that way? Eventually, he spat out a low curse and turned around.
“Tell the vassals the meeting is postponed.”
He then marched straight past the main castle toward the Annex building located on the north side of the fortress.
Passing the auxiliary buildings surrounding the inner castle, a three-story building located in the rear garden came into view.
The soldiers standing guard in front seemed startled by the sudden appearance of the Grand Duke, quickly straightening their bodies from where they had been leaning against the wall.
Varkas passed them and entered the building. Near the entrance, young maids were gathered, sitting and preparing ingredients.
“Where is the Grand Duchess?”
When he threw the question at them, the maids, who had been busily trimming vegetables, bolted upright like horses struck by a whip.
“W-we greet His Excellency the Grand Duke.”
Bowing her head hurriedly, a maid added haltingly.
“Her—Her Grace is in the second-floor bedroom.”
Varkas immediately climbed the wooden stairs. At the end of the narrow hallway, he saw the bedroom door made of red mahogany.
Approaching it, Varkas pulled the handle.
With a creaking sound, the interior of the dim room was faintly revealed through the widening gap.
He walked straight to the window and threw back the blackout curtains. The winter sunlight piercing through the glass illuminated the bed. As Varkas shifted his gaze toward it, he unconsciously drew a sharp breath.
In just a few days, the woman had become even more gaunt.
Varkas took in her pale face, which seemed drained of all vitality, her thin neck where veins were visible, and her wasted body revealed through the messy folds of her dress. A strangled voice escaped him.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?”
The woman, who had been sprawled like a broken doll, slowly lifted her eyelids. In that moment, a strange chill swept through his entire body.
After staring at him for a moment with eyes as desolate as a grave, she lowered her eyelids again. Then, turning her body away, she murmured in a voice that sounded like it might crumble.
“…Leave me alone.”
At that sight, the anger he had been suppressing finally exploded.
He grabbed her shoulder and roughly turned her toward him.
“I asked you,” he demanded, “what do you think you’re doing?”
The woman showed no reaction. She simply sent him a vacant stare, as if she couldn’t understand what he was so angry about.
