Chapter 34
Long, large wooden shelves lined the walls, filled with glass bottles of varying sizes and shapes. Scanning the bundles of dried herbs hanging from the ceiling and the compounding tools stored here and there, he found the shelf dedicated to ointments.
He wanted to take everything, but that might get him caught. Clicking his tongue, he pocketed the ointment he recalled being effective for abrasions, along with some extra bandages.
He returned to ground level and walked down the corridor. The lamps on the walls swayed long shadows. Sticking as close to the walls as possible to hide if he sensed anyone, he climbed the stairs at the end of the hall. Past the second floor, to the third.
The library was silent. Hitaon walked to the corner he had scouted earlier. He opened the window and gauged the outside. The decorative moldings and the windowsill seemed like they could serve as footholds. Bracing his hand on the frame, he carefully eased his body out.
He saw the window of the adjacent room, shining transparently in the moonlight. The other day, Luirene had stood at that open window holding a lamp. That image felt as distant as a mirage. He had hesitated so much about coming here, but now that he had arrived, he was burning with impatience.
Holding his breath, he slipped outside. Dust scattered wherever he touched. It was a tremendous relief that the knight’s uniform was black and didn’t stand out.
Moving step by step, he reached out toward the next window. Groping for the bottom edge, he pulled—thankfully, the window opened smoothly. It wasn’t locked. A sigh of relief escaped him.
Opening the window wide enough to squeeze his body through, Hitaon steadied his breathing. The gap between the windows was narrow, but he was three stories up. One wrong step and he would plummet to the ground.
‘I never thought I’d do something this reckless.’
His self-mocking expression turned serious. Three days of absence, and despite the window being open, there was no reaction from inside the room. It bothered him.
Taking a deep breath, Hitaon moved swiftly. A moment later, the black knight’s uniform of the marquisate was sucked into the open window.
The first thing he heard was a moan. In the small, modest room—narrower than his own bathroom—he saw a figure curled up on the bed like a caterpillar.
Approaching the bed, Hitaon quickly lowered himself. Luirene, wrapped in layers of blankets, was burning with a fever high enough to flush her face. Her face was drenched in sweat, and between her red, parted lips, ragged breaths pushed out.
“Luirene.”
She didn’t respond when he called—her mind seemed clouded. Hitaon carefully brushed away the black hair stuck to her neck. Feeling his touch, Luirene flinched and opened her eyes. Fear flickered within them.
“You… young master.”
Her purple irises, recognizing the intruder as him, relaxed their tension. Hitaon looked around. A basin and wet towels sat beside the bed. It seemed she had been in this state for some time. He clenched his jaw so hard his cheekbones bulged.
“The physician came, so why—”
As he muttered, he saw Luirene’s mouth moving. Questions could come later—attending to her came first. Removing his dust-covered outer garment, he washed his hands thoroughly with water from the basin, then poured water from his canteen and brought it to her lips.
“Ngh.”
Luirene tried to sit up to drink, but grimaced and moaned. Hitaon, with an even harder expression, pulled back the blanket. He saw her legs wrapped in clumsily applied bandages. So poorly had they been treated that blood had seeped through to the outside. He was so appalled he couldn’t speak.
“How could this—”
“Young master. What is this uniform? Why are you here? Can you… be here?”
Her smile was gone without a trace. Even reduced to this state, she was worrying about him first—it struck him as almost foolish. He wet a towel and wiped Luirene’s face as he spoke.
“Yes.”
“But…”
“This isn’t something you should handle alone.”
He resented himself for having watched from afar for three whole days. Why hadn’t he come even a day sooner?
“You didn’t climb through the window, did you? That’s reckless… What if you’d gotten hurt?”
His expression must have been terrible, because she smiled at him—a smile on a face that looked half-dead and teased him weakly.
“Who’s worrying about whom right now?”
Sighing, Hitaon relaxed his facial muscles, laid Luirene down properly, and pulled back the blanket. The legs he’d been too guilty to look at directly filled his vision. His stomach turned.
“…Let me look at your wounds. Bear with it even if it hurts a little.”
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