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~Chapter 10~
Luke hurried after him, his eyes dull.
‘Why didn’t he say “my chess piece, my foot mat, my dog” too?’
Just then, Noxian called to him as if reading his mind.
“Luke. Get clean water, medicine for wounds, and bandages ready.”
“I already ordered it. They’ll bring it soon.”
“As you can see, he’s quick on the uptake and capable. His name is Luke Elden. You’ll be seeing him often.”
Yet, the moment Noxian said “capable,” that man glared like he might hit him.
Shariette glanced at the aide who seemed to have a lot of grievances toward Noxian.
“Luke, this is the new personal physician—Miss Shariette Verdette, apothecary. She’s my lifesaver and the savior who will send you back to the paradise of day shifts.”
“Holy—finally!!”
“Oh dear, you just said that out loud.”
Seeing the aide turn pale, Shariette recalled the recipe for stomach medicine. She should make him one.
Wiping his cold sweat, Luke composed himself and greeted her.
“An honor to meet you. I’m Luke Elden. What should I call you?”
Though he didn’t call her “savior,” his manner was respectful enough to mean it.
“Whatever’s comfortable.”
“Yes, Miss Verdette. For matters concerning Lord Noxian, please go through me.”
“Yes, Mr. Elden.”
“….”
Did she deliberately let him choose the form of address so she could copy it exactly?
She seemed to have decent social sense, and compared to that man, her temperament seemed better.
Luke smiled more comfortably.
“Luke is fine.”
“Then Luke, I’m Sha—”
“Enough of that. Let’s deal with your foot first. Go handle the cleanup,” Noxian cut in.
A servant brought a medicine box and a basin of water, which Noxian set at Shariette’s feet.
Rubbing his eyes at the strange sight, Luke asked,
“You’re not… seriously doing this yourself? Why don’t you show me this kind of care?”
“Do you really want me to?” Noxian asked warmly.
A shiver went down Luke’s spine.
“No, just a joke. Absolutely not. Please keep working me hard like now.”
“Then go work.”
“One thing before that…”
Lowering his voice so Shariette wouldn’t hear, Luke asked,
“Even with the new physician here, will you keep looking for that person?”
“….”
The smile froze on Noxian’s lips.
Seeing the arsonist clutching a corpse in Mayrily, refusing to accept death, had reminded him of his own failure.
His failure at Argen Castle’s underground two years ago.
‘Lord Noxian, among the survivors, there was no woman named Shasha matching your description.’
He should never have let his guard down.
Never should have assumed she’d be in the same place as always.
Never should have believed her when she said she’d be fine and wait.
No—he hadn’t believed, just taken it lightly.
Damn it. His hand went to his cravat.
Whenever he remembered that day, and the underground of Argen Castle where he went searching for Shasha, it felt like invisible hands were choking him.
Even when he had to crawl like a dog under Blanche Argen’s feet, it hadn’t been as miserable as that moment.
‘Find her. Search the entire kingdom. Bring her to me.’
And so began a failure that had lasted two years.
‘Maybe it’s time to give up. You saw it yourself—everyone in the underground was dead…’
Maybe he too was wandering, chasing a ghost, unable to accept reality.
“…No, keep searching.”
She must be alive.
She was clever—she must have escaped in secret, living somewhere with that calm face.
She had to be.
She had to be alive.
If she was alive, he would surely find her…
A dark shadow fell over his blood-red eyes.
Seeing that deep, sinking gaze, Luke swallowed dryly.
Two years ago, his lord had gone mad with that exact look—and after that…
He carefully changed the subject.
“Yes. What about that man?”
Noxian slowly returned to the present.
“…Move him elsewhere. I think we’ll need to press him more.”
Luke relaxed a little at his usual tone.
“Will there be more to get? Plenty of people take it out on the wrong person.”
“With the apothecary here, I could have her make a truth serum.”
“Are you even listening to me?”
Noxian only smiled, and Luke shut his mouth instinctively.
From the look in the arsonist’s eyes—not at the surviving apothecary, but at him—Noxian understood.
‘Rumor has it the lunatic of Rubellot trades regularly. I’ll give it less than a month. But you’ve got a lot of enemies, so it won’t be good for you.’
That look was all too familiar.
As he’d told Shariette, it was just one of the countless grudges he’d grown used to.
Wiping out a noble house wasn’t as simple as erasing a crest from a peerage book.
Killing the bloodline didn’t make everything disappear.
You had to deal with all the ripples and side effects of cutting through a web of tangled interests.
Of course, he had accounted for all that from the start.
‘But this is new.’
If that man in Mayrily had recognized him, and linked the apothecary’s departure from Willow Hill to him—
He’d gotten hold of a fine weakness.
Blaming him for not saving a comrade meant there was no guilt about sacrificing an innocent person.
It even explained why he set such a noisy fire just to kill one defenseless woman—
Because it was meant for him to see.
Pure revenge.
Details would come after more questioning, but…
‘A weakness.’
He glanced at Shariette, who had stopped caring about the case once her compensation was guaranteed—utterly unconcerned with why someone had tried to kill her.
For now.
For now, he wouldn’t tell her.
It would just give her one more reason to run away.
The mood on that side was so serious and solemn that Shariette deliberately splashed her foot in the water basin.
Red spread through the water like spilled ink.
‘They could at least close the door. I can hear everything.’
After sending Luke off, Noxian climbed into the carriage and clicked his tongue at the sight.
“You’re impatient.”
“I’m just quick to act.”
“Sure. Give me your foot.”
Holding the medicine and bandages, Noxian tapped his knee. Shariette frowned.
“Are you confused about who the physician is here?”
“I’m used to treating injuries. And you should move as little as possible. That robe is too big.”
“I’ve been saying it’s uncomfortable since earlier.”
She held the slipping robe in place as she spoke.
“I’ll have them bring new clothes. Now, your foot.”
Like someone feeding a wild animal, she cautiously put her foot forward.
Noxian paused as he wiped away the blood.
“Was the wound this shallow?”
“I told you it was light. You must’ve seen wrong.”
The wound had healed considerably already, but Shariette lied with a straight face.
Strictly speaking, it wasn’t even a lie—
‘It’s a light wound if it’s going to heal anyway.’
She watched the treatment closely, ready to find fault.
But the more she watched, the less she could criticize.
‘He’s actually good at this.’
With her foot resting on his knee, his hands applied medicine efficiently and gently.
Usually, she was the one treating others. The reversed roles felt strange.
She only managed to complain once, when he was about to wrap the bandage.
“Don’t wrap the ankle—it’ll make it hard to move.”
“Alright, alright, whatever the apothecary says.”
Near the end of the treatment, she cautiously asked,
“I overheard you talking with Luke earlier.”
It was probably a coincidence, but…
“Seems like you’re looking for someone? You called them ‘that person’?”
Surely that’s not me. ‘That person’ sounds way too polite.
Noxian lifted his head, eyes flashing.
“You wouldn’t happen to have a talent for finding people, would you?”
Would she? She must not!
Shariette hid her sweaty hands behind her back.
“If I did, I’d have opened a detective agency instead of an herbal shop.”
“Shame.”
Fastening the bandage, Noxian slowly let go of her foot.
“About two years ago, I lost someone. I couldn’t keep an appointment we had.”
‘Yep. That’s me.’
Shariette leaned casually toward the door.
Feigning nonchalance, she asked the most important question.
“Oh, really? What will you do if you find them?”
“Good question. Let’s see…”
Click—the man closed the medicine box and muttered quietly.
“I’ve never spared anyone who’s deceived me until now.”
