Chapter 21
“The pulse has stabilized. The heart rate has also returned to a normal level. However…….”
The doctor cautiously opened his mouth while organizing the medical tools beside the bed.
As if the agitation from earlier had been a lie, Lionel had returned to his usual face.
With his arms crossed, the frozen gaze looking down at Agnes did not show even a single trace of emotion.
“However?”
“I understand that the Duchess experienced a train accident.”
“So.”
At the sharp retort like a blade, the doctor continued a beat late.
“Occasionally, among those who have experienced a major accident, there are cases where similar stimuli cause hyperventilation or fainting symptoms. It seems that the radio static is the trigger for the lady.”
The doctor, having finished the treatment, stood up from his seat and added a warning.
“So, you must be careful not to be exposed to stimuli like today.”
It’s a familiar sound.
It was common on the battlefield.
Soldiers who lost an arm to a landmine, recruits who saw their comrades torn to pieces right in front of their eyes, troops who groaned in pain for days holding a chest grazed by a bullet.
They had shown symptoms similar to Agnes.
Lionel silently gazed at Agnes on the bed.
The face deeply asleep after receiving a sedative looked pale but peaceful.
Occasionally, she would toss and turn with short groans as if suffering from a nightmare, but still, she did not have a seizure like in the annex.
‘Was the shock from the train accident quite significant?’
Well.
Since it was said that a train that derailed overturned and fell below a cliff, causing quite a few casualties.
It was enough to leave trauma.
The image of Agnes trembling and covering her ears kept repeating in his mind.
“But why did she react to the radio?”
It seemed natural, yet somehow inconsistent. Like a well-turning cogwheel gone awry.
What clearly stimulated Agnes was the radio sound.
But what reason would someone who had an accident on a train have to react to the radio mainly used by soldiers?
According to confirmation, it was not soldiers who handled the accident site.
‘She seemed to react not only to the radio but also to the smell of gunpowder.’
Shallow wrinkles faintly etched on Lionel’s flat forehead.
Come to think of it, Agnes refuted all rumors but said nothing about her injured leg.
Not even once.
“I was heading north, not south. Please believe me.”
The day after the wedding. Agnes’s voice pleading innocence came to mind.
Along with it, the remains of a shattered carriage left around the Izak base that he had received from the soldiers came to mind.
It’s an absurd assumption, but if Agnes had really headed north, and if that timing happened to be the day the bridge was blown up?
“No way.”
It was a delusion born from fatigue.
If Agnes had been in that carriage, there would have been no reason to hide it unnecessarily.
In such a situation, it would not be enough to immediately grab his neck and pour out resentment.
Lionel shook his head.
Lately, he had overexerted himself, and his thoughts were flowing in absurd directions.
At that moment, a red light came on in the radio at his waist.
“You must be careful not to be exposed to stimuli like today.”
Recalling the doctor’s warning just before, Lionel turned his body.
The vain assumptions disappeared into the recesses of his consciousness along with the footsteps leaving the room.
Leaving behind an unpleasant aftertaste.
***
“Colonel.”
As soon as he stepped out, his adjutant strode toward him from the end of the corridor.
Seeing him wearing a poncho raincoat, it seemed the rain had grown heavier in the meantime.
“We’ve obtained clues about the mole’s traces from the patrol team.”
Lionel checked through the half-open door gap whether Agnes had woken up.
When the small body on the bed stirred, Lionel placed his index finger over his lips. Until Agnes’s tossing stopped.
Still not taking his eyes off the door, Lionel lightly nodded his head.
“Continue.”
“As reported via radio, the mole has recently been spotted moving in the central street area.”
The adjutant glanced around once before continuing the report.
“He’s repeating his route between the Ben Grand Theater and the central square. It seems he’s attempting to carry out the previously failed bomb terrorism again.”
Lionel irritably shook off his wet hair.
“Timing and location?”
“Estimated for tomorrow evening. However, the exact location between the two places is not certain.”
“Divide the troops into two.”
Lionel said briefly.
“You take the square. I’ll go to the grand theater.”
“The Colonel personally?”
“Yes.”
After finishing the instructions, Lionel was about to turn around but looked back at the adjutant.
“Ah, and. From now on, prohibit the use of radios inside the mansion.”
“Radios, sir?”
It was an unexpected order that could cause confusion.
But the adjutant blinked two or three times and soon nodded.
“I will keep it in mind.”
“Now go.”
After the adjutant disappeared, Lionel re-entered the room.
“She sleeps well.”
With his arms crookedly crossed, Lionel looked down at Agnes.
The steady, rhythmic breathing sounded peaceful.
After startling someone so much, she’s quite carefree.
Lionel shook his head as if sighing and leaned his body to extinguish the candle.
Then suddenly, Agnes’s bare feet caught his eye.
The feet exposed under the thin blanket were slightly smaller than his hand.
And the scar continuing above them stood out clearly even in the dim lighting.
“…….”
As if overlaying that scar, Lionel’s fingers hovered in the air.
“……I suppose I need to hear the story about the accident.”
It was a sudden decision.
Somehow, it felt like he had to.
Could he return before evening?
The deep blue irises glanced at his wristwatch.
In any case, to return to the mansion before Agnes fell asleep, he would need to hurry his duties.
Lionel rubbed his stiff forehead.
“No rest for me.”
***
When Agnes regained consciousness, she stared at the ceiling in the familiar silence.
“How long have I been like this……?”
Sunlight scattered in through the curtains swaying in the wind.
She had lain there continuously from the previous night until past noon the next day before waking up.
Perhaps because the accumulated strain and tension had rushed in at once, she had fallen deeply asleep without even tossing.
Agnes unsteadily raised her body.
The tangled hair stuck to her cheek rustled and fell down.
“I’m thirsty…….”
She had gasped so horribly drawing in breath. It would be strange if her throat wasn’t parched.
Agnes reached out toward the water glass on the nightstand beside the bed.
However, because it was far, the glass that barely reached slipped from her hand.
Clang!
The glass hitting the floor shattered into pieces with a sharp sound.
As if reacting to that noise, a knocking sound was heard at the door.
“Lady Agnes, if you’re awake, may I come in?”
“Ah, yes, yes……!”
At the flustered permission, a maid wearing a black apron entered the room.
“How is your body? If you’re still uncomfortable, shall I call the doctor?”
“Uh……, um. No. I’m fine.”
She tried not to show it, but Agnes was honestly surprised.
It was the first time. Someone speaking to her in this mansion.
While Agnes was dazed, the maid approached, cleared the glass fragments, and quietly poured new water.
But that was all.
There was neither worry nor a smile on the maid’s face. She merely performed the given task mechanically.
Yet to Agnes, the maid’s single words resonated unusually deeply.
Even if it was formal, it was the first person since childhood Rael to ask if there was anywhere uncomfortable.
In the Bardo mansion, even trivial kindness was not Agnes’s share.
Despite the cold treatment and disregard until now, her fingertips tingled at just one word.
‘I’m really something.’
With a bitter smile, Agnes took the water cup and moistened her mouth.
The light gray eyes wandered around the room as if looking for someone.
As if noticing that, the maid said.
“If you’re looking for the Duke, he went out last night and hasn’t returned yet.”
The movement of Agnes swallowing water gulp gulp paused for a moment.
Only then realizing that she had been looking for Lionel, Agnes cleared her throat, ahem.
It was embarrassing, as if something that shouldn’t be discovered had been caught.
To such Agnes, the maid held out something.
“This is a letter that arrived for madam this morning.”
A letter?
Since there was no one who would send such a thing to her, Agnes examined the envelope curiously.
A neat ivory-colored envelope that seemed chosen with great care.
The unfamiliar handwriting written on it.
Agnes’s eyelashes fluttered rapidly as if not understanding while confirming the sender.
“Why is this person to me……?”
That was because they were not close enough to exchange letters like this.
The sender was none other than the sub-dancer of the Imperial Ballet Troupe.
It was Kain.
☆▪︎▪︎▪︎☆
