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Chapter 73
As Piril’s grim expression said it all.
The result of the new treatment was a failure. Absolutely, without a shred of doubt.
“Piril!”
Justin’s eyes widened, icy blue.
But Piril only sighed once and began dismissing the servants.
“Alright. Everyone, please step outside for now. We’ll take care of Lady Litricia.”
“What nonsense is this, doctor! Lady Litricia is in this state, and you expect us to leave?!”
“The head maid is right.”
“Why are you saying that too, butler? Everyone, please—just wait outside…”
While Piril was struggling to get the stubborn attendants to leave, Litricia tugged at his sleeve.
“Ugh… cough, cough.”
Her throat burned with the bitter taste rising upward, and with involuntary tears wetting her eyes, Litricia shook her head.
“Masha… haah… Gorten. Please, listen to Piril and wait outside for a while. It’s embarrassing for me to be seen like this.”
“What is there to be embarrassed about? We’ve been serving you for months already. We’re no different from family—there’s nothing you can’t show us!”
‘Family, they say.’
If Isis or Petrick had heard that, they would’ve raged that a servant had no right to call their master family.
Kilian, at least, would never say such a thing.
Litricia couldn’t lift her head, only waving her hand weakly behind her.
“I should’ve listened to Gorten. Maybe I overworked myself lately. And… eating too heavy a breakfast probably upset my stomach.”
It was the kind of flimsy excuse that wouldn’t fool even a ten-year-old.
Still, with Litricia’s firm insistence, the servants shuffled anxiously but eventually chose to leave the room.
“Then we’ll all wait in the hallway—please call us anytime.”
“Promise us! Lady Litricia, you must call!”
By the time even raising her hand had become too difficult, the servants and the tailor had hurriedly filed out of the room.
But Litricia still couldn’t rise from her spot.
After vomiting several more times, she shivered, unsure if it was from chills or sheer pain.
“Why… haah… why am I like this?”
Neither Justin nor Piril could bring themselves to answer.
“You said… I’d get better, didn’t you? Piril? Uncle? Right…?”
***
“Listen. If you go blabbing about what you just saw, you’ll regret it.”
Out in the corridor, Gorten threatened the tailor.
“Of course, sir! But… is Lady Litricia very ill…?”
“You heard, didn’t you? Just exhaustion and indigestion. Now go back.”
Sending the tailor away with the promise to have the dress delivered later, Gorten leaned against the wall.
Because of his bad leg, he nearly stumbled, and Mark had to steady him.
Mark had remained in the castle under Kilian’s order to watch over Litricia.
The silent knight became the focus of the servants’ anxious stares.
Finally, hot-tempered Masha pushed past Gorten and confronted Mark.
“Sir Davis, be honest! What’s happening to our Lady Litricia?”
“Didn’t the butler just explain?”
“Hmph! And you expect us to believe that? We’ve all noticed something strange for a while now. Remember when she collapsed in the bath? To call it just ‘weak constitution’ is too much!”
Mia, Allen, even the composed Gorten all nodded fiercely in agreement.
They had all thought it for some time, but hadn’t dared voice it—until now.
This time, Allen spoke.
“She’s often fainted since childhood, but I’ve never seen her like this. What has been happening to Lady Litricia?”
Mark scratched at his short-cropped hair.
As he always said, he knew nothing. Yet, for some reason, everyone asked him as if he would.
“I haven’t been told anything.”
“Nothing at all?”
“Other than fetching the Encyclopedia of Snow Mountain Herbs and a few medical texts… Hm? Miss Mia, do you have something to add?”
Mark, noticing Mia shaking her head, turned to her. She had written down the book titles he mentioned, double-checking carefully.
“Yes. I was the one who got those for her at Doctor Piril’s request.”
After a pause, Mia scribbled quickly on her notepad.
Unable to speak due to physical damage to her tongue, Mia had long searched through herbology books for a cure.
As a maid, regular doctor visits were too expensive, so books were her alternative.
And one of those books she’d come across was the same one Mark had brought to Piril.
“The book Encyclopedia of Snow Mountain Herbs. It’s mainly about herbs used for incurable diseases.”
“Incurable diseases? Surely not…”
Everyone in the corridor gasped, covering their mouths.
Some drew in wet, shaky breaths.
Even with only fragments of information, everyone’s thoughts reached the same conclusion.
They dreaded it might be true: that Litricia was suffering from some terrible, incurable illness.
***
“Lady Litricia, could you open your mouth and say ‘ah’? …Good. Thankfully, your esophagus isn’t damaged.”
It was hard to imagine stomach acid alone could do such harm, but Litricia obediently complied.
“I tried to hold it back, but it didn’t work. Why did I suddenly vomit like that?”
Seeing the two physicians avoid her eyes, Litricia sighed faintly.
“The new treatment isn’t working, is it? So… it’s really incurable.”
“No! That’s not it, child!”
Justin desperately tried not to crush her hope, but denial wasn’t a solution.
“In fact… while I was asleep, I heard you both talking. You said maybe I wasn’t actually getting better.”
Justin and Piril’s faces went pale in real time.
Piril wanted nothing more than to rip out his reckless tongue.
The only one calm in the room was Litricia herself.
At last, Justin, tearing at his beard like a man about to confess, spoke with a tortured face.
In his hand, he held the device used to measure the magical mass in her brain.
“…Yes. The vile mass coiled in your head… it’s grown larger. The vomiting was likely from the rising intracranial pressure it caused.”
On Justin’s rugged face—one that looked like it could kill beasts with bare hands—his long lashes, so much like Kilian’s, trembled pitifully.
“I truly believed you were improving… I have no face to show you. I swore confidently I’d cure you, but as a physician, I’ve proven no better than a common quack! Forgive me, forgive me…”
Justin struck his leg with his fist in self-reproach.
Piril too apologized again and again, as if desperate to atone.
Did they realize that their guilt and flustered apologies only made her feel more miserable?
“……”
When Litricia stayed silently seated, Justin panicked.
“But wait—there is still hope! From a newly acquired herbology compendium, I found a miraculous plant. If we use it, maybe—no, we must find another method!”
“No, Uncle. What you’ve done is already enough. There’s no need to apologize.”
“…Huh?”
“It was never a curable disease, was it? Whether your treatment failed or not makes no real difference for me.”
Her lips curved upward in a flawless, measured smile.
“Besides, for weeks I felt no pain and my body felt light. I should be the one thanking you.”
Litricia didn’t realize: while her voice and smile were calm, her eyes were soaked with despair and emptiness.
“I’m not disappointed, so please stop looking at me like that. It only makes me uncomfortable.”
She reassured the two doctors that this was simply an inevitable end delayed a little. Then she worried about something else.
“But… I suppose the others must have noticed by now? They’re all perceptive people.”
There would be no hiding it any longer.
“This is bad. I don’t want to cause trouble for others.”
“What nonsense! They would never think of you as trouble!”
“Mmm. Caring for a sick person is troublesome, isn’t it? I should be careful not to cause more work.”
Oblivious to Justin and Piril’s breaking hearts, Litricia fidgeted with her hand.
‘All those lemon sherbets Kilian brought me were wasted. He’ll be so disappointed to learn there’s been no improvement.’
