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Chapter 10
Tenus abruptly turned his body away from her. Selachia’s gaze moved past his broad back to a middle-aged man standing by the door, grinning.
“Why are you only showing up now? Didn’t you get the message to come to the castle early this morning?”
At Tenus’s sharp question, Rupert made a muffled sound, like someone gagged. Only when Tenus furrowed his brows threateningly did Rupert finally speak in protest.
“Well, you told me to keep my mouth shut.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
Ignoring the biting tone, Rupert approached with a smile, his steps slightly unsteady. As he drew closer, the smell of alcohol hit them like a wave.
Tenus rubbed his temples as if already feeling a headache.
“I told you to quit drinking.”
“At my age, alcohol is the elixir of life, young master. I’ll die if I stop.”
“I’ll have a funeral barge prepared.”
“I don’t like funeral barges. I’ll never go to the land of the dead across the sea. When I die, please bury me deep in a mountain where no water flows. Don’t forget, young master.”
From his muttering nonsense, it was clear he was very drunk.
“If I had known this was about the young madam, I would have come sooner. I thought it was a summons from Sir Aldrich.”
Selachia gave a strained smile as Rupert’s eyes met hers. The personal physician of the Duke of Seydon—whom she’d only heard of—seemed a bit frivolous.
“So, what’s troubling you?”
Still, as a physician, Rupert opened his medical bag as he sat beside her. Inside were only a few bottles of a murky brown liquid.
“…”
Medicine, presumably? Selachia eyed the bottles suspiciously. As if to confirm her doubts, Rupert popped one open. A strong stench of alcohol left no doubt it was liquor.
Gulp, gulp.
He brought the bottle to his lips and drained it in one go, his wrinkled throat bobbing. Selachia was left speechless.
Tenus spoke in her place, stepping beside her like a protective guardian.
“She’s lost her memory.”
“Hmm. I see. Then let me check her head first.”
“Check her body too. She seems undernourished, maybe hasn’t been eating well. Looks frail.”
“Yes, yes. I’ll start with the head…”
“What about the seizure? She had a minor seizure just now. Cold sweat, trembling—check that too.”
“A seizure… I’ll know more once I examine her head…”
“And don’t forget her hands. I gave her ointment, but a blister burst a little while ago. Better to check closely.”
“….”
Rupert nodded politely but turned his gaze away. Selachia did the same.
Together, they looked up at Tenus, who stood towering, rattling off symptoms endlessly.
Tenus raised his chin, clueless about what was odd.
“What?”
Rupert’s face turned grave for a moment, and he cautiously asked Tenus,
“By any chance… is one of the young madam’s symptoms muteness?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Head trauma can often cause aphasia. In such cases, the prognosis—”
“No!”
Selachia, who had quietly sat still, suddenly shouted. She couldn’t let the misunderstanding grow any further.
Startled by her loud voice, Rupert’s eyes widened before brightening in realization.
“Oh, thank goodness you can speak! And with such a strong voice—you don’t sound weak at all. Excellent, very healthy indeed!”
“…Right. I’m perfectly fine. That so-called seizure earlier wasn’t even a real seizure. Just check my head.”
Tenus looked like he was about to object, but Selachia shot him a glare, cutting him off.
Rupert looked between the two of them, then began his examination with an odd little hum. He pressed here and there, lifted her eyelids to check pupil reactions, and then quickly gave his verdict.
“Fortunately, there’s no serious trauma. The minor seizure was likely a side effect of memory loss. I’ll prescribe a tonic to restore energy. Take it with every meal. That alone should help her recover fully.”
Tenus interjected, of course.
“When do you think her memory will return?”
“It seems to be temporary memory loss from shock… Usually, it comes back naturally with time.”
“Usually, meaning… it might not come back?”
Rupert shrugged indifferently.
“There’s no surefire method. It’s not a disease, so there’s no treatment. Some try to recreate the same level of shock to trigger memory return, but we can’t subject our young madam to something so barbaric, now can we?”
Tenus didn’t seem satisfied with the answer, his expression visibly annoyed. Rupert, unaffected, took another sip of alcohol while locking eyes with Selachia, who quickly averted her gaze in discomfort.
“It’s not inconvenient enough to interfere with daily life. I’ll just wait for the memories to come back.”
“How gracious. Unlike someone else, you have such a kind heart, young madam. I could cry, feeling warmth in the Seydon household after so long.”
Rupert pressed his dry eyes with his sleeve, pretending to sob.
“Less talking, more ointment,” Tenus said, tossing the ointment jar Rupert had left behind—likely the one Amy had prepared.
Rupert caught it reflexively, then looked between Selachia and Tenus.
“Oh dear.”
Suddenly, his steady hand began to tremble. He returned the jar to Tenus.
“My hands tremble with age, you see. I’m afraid I can’t apply it. You’ll have to do it.”
Shameless and lazy—a truly outrageous attitude.
Tenus looked just as dumbfounded. As he was about to speak, a servant knocked lightly and entered to deliver a message.
“Sir Aldrich has summoned the Duke and the madam. He said he will be waiting in the acting office.”
“Sir Aldrich?”
It wasn’t Tenus or Selachia who reacted but Rupert. He forced the jar into Tenus’s hand and rushed to the servant.
“Don’t tell Aldrich I was here, understood?”
“He probably won’t call for you today.”
“No one can predict that man. I should get going. If you ever summon me again for the young madam, make sure to add a postscript!”
With that final comment, Rupert disappeared like the wind. Judging by his energy, it seemed Tenus didn’t need to prepare any funeral barge after all.
Tenus didn’t give the least bit of attention to Rupert’s exit.
“Tell him we’ll come after finishing this.”
“Yes, sir.”
As soon as the servant left, Selachia asked,
“What do you need to finish?”
“Your hand. I need to apply the ointment.”
Just for that? Postponing a summon from a senior of the house? It made clear just how little Tenus thought of Aldrich.
Under other circumstances, his arrogance would’ve annoyed her—but right now, it was oddly pleasing. It even felt like camaraderie, bonded by a common enemy.
In a better mood, Selachia willingly extended her hand.
“Give it. I’ll do it myself.”
Tenus said nothing, simply opened the jar and took her hand. Startled by the warmth of his touch, she tried to pull away.
“What are you doing?”
“Hold still.”
He gently spread her fingers and, using the wooden spatula that came with the jar, began applying the ointment to her blisters. His movements were surprisingly delicate and thorough.
Shocked, Selachia widened her eyes. The question slipped out before she could stop it.
“Do you… care about me?”
Tenus, who had been focused solely on her hand, briefly glanced at her. She expected mockery—but instead, he answered plainly.
“Why would you think that?”
“Just look at yourself applying ointment. You look like someone who cares.”
“I’m trying not to.”
“What does that mean? Trying not to what?”
Tenus didn’t answer.
“I asked what you’re trying not to do?”
No matter how many times she pressed, he only responded with an annoyed expression.
Even without an answer, she could guess. His face didn’t carry concern, nor did he look at her with warmth like her parents once had, or with tenderness like Chester. There was no fondness like her former tutor’s gaze.
The only emotion visible in his face was cold irritation.
“I didn’t ask you to apply it.”
Frustrated by his expression, Selachia mumbled under her breath.
“Did I say you did?”
Tenus shrugged.
“If you’re hearing voices, I can call Rupert back.”
Even as he spoke, his hands kept moving.
As he grabbed her other hand, the tingling sensation worsened. She wanted to curl her fingers, but he held them steady. Selachia just shifted her feet under the dress.
With the conversation paused, her awareness of the physical touch intensified, making her more uncomfortable. Desperate to break the awkwardness, she quickly changed the subject.
“Is Rupert trustworthy?”
“He was hired personally by the late duke. Top of his class at the academy.”
Finally done, Tenus released her hand. She quickly pulled it back.
Though free now, the strange, tingly discomfort lingered. Probably because of the sticky, pale ointment.
“For the record, both my parents died of illness.”
“…What?”
“Rupert was the family physician at the time.”
Selachia blinked, staring blankly at her hand.
“Then why have you kept him around…?”
“Let’s just call it sentiment.”
Having no such sentiment for someone she just met, Selachia made a swift decision:
If Rupert ever gives her medicine, she won’t take it.
