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~Chapter 32~
But her body was unbearably heavy and sluggish, even her lips wouldn’t move as she wanted.
Noxian’s hand covered her forehead and eyes. His voice was cold, but his hand was warm.
“Don’t worry, just sleep.”
His voice fell softly, like a sigh.
‘Forgive me. Lady Shariette is not Shasha.’
‘Are you certain?’
‘Yes. I worked in Argen Castle from birth, but this is the first time I’ve ever seen her.’
Noxian’s jaw tightened for a moment. He slowly closed and opened his eyes.
“…Whoever you are, I won’t let you die without my permission.”
Shariette felt déjà vu.
“So you too, from now on, never die without my permission.”
No, I was talking about you…
Her lips trembled, but her vision went dark before she could think further. It felt like sinking endlessly beneath the bed.
“Even a small authority is useless when I need it.”
At least he could have given her pleasant dreams instead of nightmares.
Noxian withdrew his hand and gazed at Shariette, who was curled up like a small bird, fast asleep.
Eden, Mia—
Everyone from Argen who might have known Shasha had said the same.
Shariette is not Shasha. Shasha is dead.
Yet he couldn’t cast away his irrational suspicion and hope. Perhaps he was only seeing what he wanted to see.
‘If Shasha really died…’
The image of a woman lying like a corpse after drinking the Verona potion flashed before him.
Noxian tugged at his choking tie and loosened it roughly.
‘No. That can’t be.’
The poison only Argen knew—Shariette had known it. That meant she was either from there, or connected somehow.
Her appearance and handwriting might differ, but could there really be two apothecaries with the same voice, gestures, and habits?
The endless circle of questions spun in his head.
And yet, looking at the woman breathing softly in sleep, unaware of his doubts, his mind slowly quieted. A drowsy peace spread through him.
The next day.
While Shariette was still troubled by her restless dreams, Mia announced visitors early in the morning.
“Lady Shariette, Sir Joseph and Lord Luke are here.”
The unusual pair entered with hesitant expressions, each carrying something.
“Are you feeling better? I should have looked after you more while Noxian was away. I’m sorry.”
Luke handed over a box filled with chocolates and cookies.
“I thought of buying medicine, but since you’re an apothecary, I guessed such things wouldn’t satisfy you.”
He added with a weak smile: “When my sister feels unwell, these treats always cheer her up.”
Joseph stepped forward, bowing deeply.
“I’m sorry. I was ordered to protect you, Lady Shariette, but I failed my duty.”
Scratching his head, he placed a fresh flower basket on the table.
Shariette recalled the days she served Blanche. When Blanche fell sick, gifts would pile up and fill the room.
‘So this is like that?’
Back then, when one gift box exploded with magic stone, it had been her job to open them all. Now, the gifts were truly hers.
“Thank you.”
Her stomach churned like motion sickness.
‘Brenda powder works well for this.’
Her eyes lit up. She plucked an orange flower from the basket.
“This is Brenda flower. Its stems are good for the stomach when dried and powdered. But its root is poisonous—it causes paralysis if ingested.”
“Paralysis… what?”
Luke and Joseph froze as she continued explaining each flower fluently.
“Flua—good for food because of its scent, but it reacts too easily with other ingredients.”
“Mano—poisonous, but harmless to touch or smell.”
Soon the beautiful basket was dismantled into a pile of flowers as Shariette eagerly explained.
Luke and Joseph exchanged glances.
‘Does she… hate flowers?’
‘She looks like she’s enjoying herself.’
Just then, a familiar voice came from the door.
“What are you doing?”
Noxian stepped in, his gaze moving between his physician, his aide, and his officer. Odd company to be gathered together.
“We came to pay our respects to Lady Shariette,” they explained quickly.
Noxian’s eyes moved over the scattered cookies, flowers, and stems. He smiled faintly.
“How thoughtful.”
Luke and Joseph stiffened. He sounded utterly unconvinced.
They started blaming each other:
“Lord Luke said flowers are for visiting the sick!”
“I only told him generally—he’s the one who brought a whole basket!”
“And you bought a limited-edition cookie set!”
“At least I put in effort—yours was just bulk!”
While they quarreled, Noxian chuckled faintly at Shariette dismantling the bouquet.
‘What a funny woman.’
“Did you sleep well?” he asked.
His expression was calm, smiling as usual.
Shariette breathed in relief. So last night was just a dream.
“I was asking about myself,” Noxian said.
“Me? I slept fine, thanks to the physician’s medicine.”
Shariette eyed him suspiciously, then nodded. Luke and Joseph let out quiet sighs of relief at their lord’s good mood.
Shariette turned her gaze to the side. A tired old man stood beside Noxian.
“This is Heron Barren, the family physician. You must have heard his name from the steward.”
“The Rubellot physician who went with the Duke to the territory?”
“Your memory is sharp.”
“I’ve always been good at memorizing.”
The gray-haired man wore glasses and a white coat. His gentle face was lined with fatigue. This was Heron, the physician Noxian had brought back with the Duke.
He had once been the man Eden disguised himself as to infiltrate the Duke’s house.
Because of that, Heron too had been interrogated for days and was only just released—only to be dragged straight to Noxian.
“Examine her.”
