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Chapter 08
Daniel and Sophia took Sion into the next room, leaving only Andrew, Meril, and Medeia in the hallway with Lucian in their arms.
Meril glanced around, ensuring no one else was nearby, and whispered softly.
“Miss, I have a bad feeling about Mosquis. He spoke as if he knew everything… if you hadn’t asked the bookseller to deliver the book in advance, we wouldn’t have had an excuse.”
Medeia had indeed asked the bookseller to bring the book back in time. Thanks to that pre-arranged excuse and the timely appearance of Luke, she had avoided a crisis.
Meril shuddered at the memory of Mosquis’s tone, as if probing with every word.
“There may be another enemy closer than we think.”
From a street gang leader to one of Duke Leshanin’s aides, Mosquis had risen far and fast. Threatening just one girl like Medeia would likely be no challenge for him.
Why he harbored such hostility toward Medeia, however, remained a mystery.
“Andrew, Meril. Keep a close eye on Mosquis. Daniel and Sophia will be enough for me.”
“Yes, understood.”
“We’ll do it, Miss.”
Though their responses were immediate, Meril’s heart felt heavy.
Alex Leshanin’s suspicion of his daughter had reached a peak, and now they had to worry about Mosquis too.
Suppressing a deep sigh, Meril tried to steady herself.
“I’ll take care of Lucian.”
Medeia reached out and took the sleeping Lucian from Andrew.
Lucian’s blood had seeped through Andrew’s shirt, hidden only because Medeia held him close to shield the wound.
“Miss, I can care for Lucian… wait, what—!”
Meril reached out, then froze in surprise.
Andrew, however, remained calm.
“It’s fine. If you cover him with a jacket, no one will notice.”
He gestured to the jacket draped over his shoulder.
Meril, worried someone might notice the blood, had overreacted.
“It’s not that. I’m concerned about your shirt, Andrew. It probably won’t come clean easily.”
By now, she had long forgotten she had offered to take Lucian herself.
Meril’s gaze bounced between Andrew’s face and the blood-stained shirt.
“It’s fine. A few washes will remove it.”
“No, I’ll wash it and return it. Wait—there’s still the shirt I mended last time that I haven’t given back…”
Meril seemed ready to drag Andrew straight to her room.
Her assertive demeanor was the complete opposite of her usual coldness toward Gabisus.
Caught off guard by Meril’s insistence, Andrew and Medeia exchanged uncertain glances.
“Go. If anything happens, we’ll call through Sophia or Daniel.”
Medeia, holding Lucian, gestured toward the hallway.
Although she said it casually, she couldn’t help feeling slightly disappointed—when had the two who previously avoided eye contact become so close?
After Andrew and Meril left, darkness enveloped the room, leaving only Medeia and Lucian.
Medeia gently laid Lucian on the bed, treating him as if he were a precious treasure.
“Lucian.”
Her clear, calm voice broke the silence.
Lucian’s tightly closed eyelids, however, did not move.
“Lucian, it might hurt a little. Don’t be startled.”
She applied the knowledge she had learned over a doctor’s shoulder to provide first aid to those rescued from her father.
She had never imagined she would do this for a small child in her own room.
Her hands trembled as they touched and withdrew from his wounds.
Lucian flinched slightly.
“Just a little more, bear with it.”
Her voice carried a warmth that she herself barely recognized—a feeling long forgotten.
This time, unlike before, Lucian remained still.
“This is the last one. You endured well, Lucian.”
The words she wished someone had said to her younger self now left her heart full as she spoke them to the small child.
Just as her final touch reached his wound, a voice called from outside.
“Miss, it’s Luke. Are you awake?”
The unwelcome visitor was one person Medeia could not show Lucian’s condition to—her father’s most trusted butler, Luke.
Finishing the last bit of care, Medeia tidied up the medical tools and covered Lucian with a blanket, leaving only a small vent for breathing.
“What is it?”
Her voice from behind the door was sharp. Even a butler visiting a lady’s room late at night was a breach of etiquette, and Medeia, hiding an injured Lucian, was sharper than usual.
“I apologize. Could I open the door briefly to see your face?”
“Tell me your business first.”
“There have been reports of intruders stealing from nobles’ homes late at night. Some servants said they heard noises from your room, so I came to check if everything was alright and then leave.”
Only Meril, Andrew, Daniel, and Sophia knew about the current situation.
Even if noises were heard, they would naturally assume it was Medeia or Lucian.
Though a seed of doubt rose—was anyone else near the room?—Medeia prioritized sending Luke away.
With a creak, the door opened.
“As you can see, it’s just me in the room.”
Her unwavering violet eyes met Luke’s.
“The servants say they heard noises just a moment ago. What were those sounds…”
“I couldn’t sleep, so I read aloud.”
Medeia cut him off; she had no patience for idle chatter.
Her eyes gestured to the object on the bedside table—the dark green book Meril had carried.
“Ah, I see. My apologies. Please forgive the rudeness.”
Luke bowed quickly, genuinely intending no offense.
The gesture seemed slightly out of place on him, awkward yet fitting.
“Then, have a peaceful night.”
Before Medeia could ponder why, Luke vanished from the doorway.
The tension of his abrupt entrance contrasted sharply with his uneventful departure.
Silence returned to the room.
“…Lucian.”
Medeia gently pulled back the blanket to whisper to him.
Her voice, softer than before, flowed like a gentle breeze through the sleeping child.
Lucian, however, remained motionless.
Only his faint, uneven breathing reminded her that he was still there.
“Sleep well.”
She covered him fully, offering a silent blessing he could not hear.
A small, warm gesture she had once wished someone had given her.
Then, just like the long days of playing with her young cousin Jeremy, Medeia lay down beside Lucian naturally.
Time passed, and soon only their breathing filled the room.
Eventually, one of the breaths fell silent.
The closed eyelids lifted, revealing deep, lake-like eyes meeting the night sky.
“Ha…”
A deep sigh escaped him.
Before it fully left, his gaze shifted to Medeia sleeping beside him.
Moonlight made his silver hair shimmer more than usual, and his lips remained firmly closed, hiding a heart unshared with anyone.
“May your dreams be happy.”
Ignoring such words, Lucian gently touched a strand of her hair and whispered quietly.
On this night, when all were asleep, the corners of his mouth curved under the moonlight, drawing a long, graceful line.
