If You Leave Without a Word - Chapter 29
‧₊˚ ☁️⋅♡𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ☾.
read more chapters on luna kofi
Agatha barely spoke a few more words before drifting back to sleep. With Agatha now asleep, Cain watched her in silence. Even though she had tried to appear fine, he could see through her facade, understanding that her efforts to hide her fragile state were commendable at best.
Her pale lips and weary face revealed the extent of her exhaustion, and he couldn’t help but chuckle softly. He remembered how she had confronted him earlier, questioning where she was and why he was there.
However, as the effects of the pain relief began to wear off, Agatha’s previously peaceful expression gradually contorted with discomfort. Her chapped lips quivered, and in that moment, Cain rose from his seat and lit a candle.
The candle was made with a substance called kanabi, which, when used in excess, could induce severe addiction symptoms. However, in small quantities, it could help ease pain and discomfort, making it a common remedy used in the bedrooms of knights suffering from injuries during the war.
“Hopefully, she’ll find some peace during her sleep,” Cain muttered to himself as he gently brushed his fingers across her neat eyebrows.
He frowned, displeased with the sight of her furrowed brow and the faint murmurs she made in her sleep. It was a mix of pity and irritation that surged within him, finding her current state rather pathetic.
Agatha’s wounds were deeper than he had initially anticipated.
As someone who wielded swords and guns every day, he knew that her scars were anything but trivial. Moreover, the fact that they were on a noblewoman’s body added an extra layer of absurdity to the situation. It was beyond comprehension.
In an effort to prevent such incidents, he had stationed people at the Count’s residence, but for some reason, there was no mention of Agatha’s abuse. The abuse was subtle and discreet, to the point that even the servants working at the Count’s residence remained oblivious to it.
Knock, knock, knock.
The door creaked open, revealing Agatha’s maid, who entered the room carrying fresh bandages. It seemed it was time to clean and treat her wounds.
Cain, who had been seated, took a step back, giving her some space.
“Um… I’ll open the blanket, Marquis,” the maid said as she raised the sheets covering Agatha who was shirtless.
She kept a cautious eye on Cain throughout the process. It wasn’t a deliberate choice; it was simply following the doctor’s advice to minimize friction on Agatha’s injured areas.
However, with the maid’s wary gaze upon him, Cain felt as though he had become a miscreant caught peeping at a noblewoman when she least expected it, even though his intentions were far from that.
For a moment, Agatha woke from her stupor and attempted to sit up, but she couldn’t, as Cain firmly pressed his shoulder to keep her from doing so. It was to prevent her from moving too suddenly and hurting herself, but her skin had felt so fragile under his touch that he quickly withdrew his hand.
Cain clenched his fist absentmindedly, feeling the delicate fragility of her shoulder that still lingered in his hand even after he had let go.
While Agatha slept soundly, the maid cleaned her wounds and changed the bandages.
Waiting for her to wake up, Cain learned much from the maid. He heard about the disdain she had endured at the hands of the Count’s residence and the challenging struggles she had faced all alone.
As he listened to the maid, Cain occasionally nodded in understanding, and his lips curled in anger from time to time.
When the name John Calvino finally escaped the maid’s lips, Cain couldn’t help but grit his teeth in frustration, though thankfully, the maid didn’t notice the telltale sign on his forehead.
⚜ ⚜ ⚜
Cain’s assurance that there was no need to return to the Count’s residence was genuine.
Agatha had finally begun to trust his words when she welcomed the seventh morning at the Marquis’ residence. She no longer needed to fear Stella bursting through the door at any moment. She found solace in Cain’s promise that he would not bring her back to the Countess’ presence.
“Are you feeling better, Miss? Your wounds seem to have healed significantly.”
Liana muttered as she wrapped fresh bandages around Agatha. She couldn’t move her arm as freely as before, but she had reached a point where she could manage daily activities.
Receiving the carefully prepared meals and even experiencing the utmost care while lying down, it was hard to imagine how her condition could not improve.
Above all, being here offered her the most significant comfort: she no longer had to be on edge, constantly fearing Stella’s irrational anger or worrying about when John might appear to torment her. There were no sleepless nights, no trembling in fear. It was the sense of peace and security that comforted her the most.
She had been the last heiress of the prestigious Kristin Duchy in the eyes of the world, but in practice, she had exerted no influence whatsoever. At least not during her time at County Calvino.
