In the Nest of the Fallen Serpent - Chapter 23
Chapter 23
The returning reaction, however, was utterly frigid.
“Did I say you could come out as you pleased?”
“I…”
“Shut your mouth and stay put. Don’t be a nuisance.”
His demeanor, beyond mere coldness, treated her like a pebble on the road. Hilde lost all courage to speak further.
Defeated, Hilde returned to the carriage, the cloak still undelivered. She then heard the door lock from the outside.
‘I must have displeased him with what I said.’
She hadn’t realized, not until that very moment, how presumptuous her request not to be hurt further had been.
“I was just… worried…” Regret gnawed at her for speaking out of turn. A slave, meant to obey without a word, had dared to inconvenience the great Duke. Fear gripped her, anticipating the inevitable consequences.
Yet, Hilde knew the truth. ‘Even so… I couldn’t not say it.’ Even if she could go back, she knew she’d utter the same words. In the end, she simply couldn’t help herself.
* * *
Only the rhythm of even breaths filled the quiet carriage. Benedict gazed down at the woman curled up in a deep sleep. The evening moonlight, falling upon her silver hair, cast a faint luminescence.
‘Pale.’
Her hair, like finely spun silver threads, her skin so pale that the blue veins showed beneath. The only color on her face came from the pink of her eyes, which he’d seen earlier, and the faint blush of her lips.
He gently grasped her neck, turning it slightly to the side with the barest pressure. The wound had mostly healed, but a faint line remained.
Next, he unwrapped the bandage on her shoulder to examine the arrow wound. It was slowly healing, but showed no significant change. Benedict’s head tilted slightly.
“She doesn’t heal herself, even though her divine power has been revealed…” He trailed off, considering the reason. The answer came easily.
“Honestly.” A twisted smile touched Benedict’s lips. His eyes, observing something so fragile and pathetic, held only a cool amusement.
“Such a convenient ability to exploit.”
Benedict was certain. She couldn’t use her divine power on herself.
* * *
Though unintentional, Hilde found herself alone in the carriage for the next few days, experiencing a level of comfort she’d never known.
“Breakfast.”
“Thank you,” Hilde said, accepting the meal from the aide with a bow.
“You needn’t bring it to me every time…”
“His Grace’s orders.” Moritz cut her off curtly, closing the door and leaving her alone once more. Hilde stared at the steaming food, murmuring, “Is this… allowed?”
Every day of her life had been filled with endless work, from sunrise to sunset. Her hands were perpetually blistered, and the exhaustion often left her aching through the night.
The idleness felt strange, unsettling. And it wasn’t just that. Meals arrived regularly, along with water and towels for washing. Two or three times a day, during necessary stops or the knights’ rest periods, she was allowed outside for fresh air.
As the sun set, she slept within the carriage, sheltered from the wind, rain, and morning dew. Curled up on the plush cushions, wrapped in a thick blanket, she fell into a dreamless sleep. The constant swaying of the carriage didn’t bother her in the least.
But the comfort of her body was inversely proportional to the unease in her heart.
‘This is… too much.’
It was all too extravagant for a slave. She wouldn’t be surprised if she were dragged out of the carriage at any moment, bound and forced to walk.
Hilde’s gaze drifted to the window. She watched the knights emerge from the previous night’s lodging, eating their breakfast.
“I hope tonight’s inn is a little better.” Last night’s accommodation had been more of a shed than an inn. Her carriage was far more luxurious.
That was why she felt so awkward receiving her meal.
‘…Could he be… considering my well-being?’
Initially, the order to remain in the carriage had frightened her. But, in the end, she was the one who benefited most from this arrangement.
