Irene Decided to Die - Chapter 19
A voice that, try as one might, could never be forgotten.
Those voices.
‘No, I must not forget.’
Hasn’t she sworn to take revenge? Thus, even if it pained me, she had to reminisce over and over again.
The words they spoke to her, their actions. Everything had to be remembered.
Was it because she was deep in thought? Irene did not notice the cautious hand approaching her.
Thus, when she suddenly felt the warmth of another, she was startled.
The one who had grasped her fingertip was Burt.
“W-What are you doing!”
Startled by Burt’s sudden action as he let out a small sigh and showed her her fingertip.
Blood was slowly seeping through the bandage wrapped around her finger, spreading out. It seemed she had bitten her fingertip without realizing it.
He tried to cover the bleeding tip with his other hand, but it was a futile gesture.
Burt said in a soft voice,
“I’ll call the physician.”
“It’s alright….”
Irene tried to respond, but Burt cut her off.
“I won’t accept ‘it’s alright’ as an answer. This is fine, that’s fine. Are you really alright? Aren’t there things you should be stubborn about?”
Saying so, Burt called for the physician who was waiting outside.
Knowing he was right, this time she quietly received the physician’s treatment.
The physician carefully unwrapped the bandage from her fingertip and replaced it with a new one.
Behind him, a young boy was standing, assisting, but he was looking at Irene with a particularly persistent gaze.
Such a gaze was familiar. The combination of black hair and red eyes must have seemed strange, a symbol of ominous omens. It wasn’t surprising.
Irene quietly looked down. In the meantime, the treatment was completed.
While the physician was tidying up, the hesitant boy suddenly spoke up, before anyone could stop him.
“Sainthood!”
Surprised, she lifted her head to see the boy shouting.
“Get well soon!”
The physician, startled, looked at the boy and then quickly covered his mouth in horror.
“I’m, I’m sorry.”
The stammered apology didn’t register.
“What did you say?”
Irene asked the boy again. Pushing away the physician’s hand, the boy shouted again.
“Sainthood, get well soon!”
It was the first time she had heard such words from anyone.
No, was it not the first time after all?
Burt had said the same. To get better soon.
But his words hadn’t touched her heart. She knew they were meant to hasten her use to him, even if just a little more.
Irene slowly placed her hand on her chest. An indescribable emotion throbbed within her.
Whether that throbbing left behind pain or joy, she couldn’t tell.
‘Get well soon?’
The words of the unfamiliar boy echoed in her heart. She didn’t know what kind of expression to wear.
She had suffered because of being the saintess, and for the first time, she received someone else’s concern.
Because she was the saintess.
She didn’t know how to express the emotions welling up inside her. If, in the past, there had been even one person who had spoken to her this way…
Her eyes began to feel hot.
“Leave.”
At Irene’s command, the physician quickly gathered his bag and the boy and left the room.
“Lady Irene?”
Lifting her head at the sudden call, she saw Burt’s expression change subtly,
But Irene didn’t notice the shift.
“Irene?”
She steadied her heart at the voice calling her again.
“Yes.”
“Do you hurt anywhere?”
“No.”
“Then why…”
“Why?”
“No, it’s nothing.”
Burt closed his mouth again.
However, Irene didn’t have the leisure to pay attention to him right now. The words of the boy were still lingering in her heart.
“You should rest again.”
At Burt’s suggestion, Irene obediently lay down again. Perhaps it was because she had too many thoughts, but her head started to ache.
“Just rest without thinking about anything.”
Without thinking about anything. Could she really do that? Even the tail end of the dreams she saw when she fell asleep was terrifying.
Irene sighed deeply. Still, she had to sleep.
She slowly closed her eyes, but a disturbing noise reached her.
Woken by the noise, a cleric approached and said a gift had arrived. It was sent by Duke Rostelle.
She had never received even a trivial gift from Duke Rostelle before. To start such a barrage of gifts now.
A hollow laugh escaped her. To that Irene, Burt reported.
“Duke Rostelle has also sent someone.”
“Someone?”
It seemed it wasn’t just a gift that was sent.
Ah, now that she thought about it, didn’t they mention sending a maid who had been taking care of her at the mansion?
“They’ve sent maids to serve you. They said these were the ones assigned to you at the mansion.”
Her guess was spot on. Yet, hearing that, she couldn’t help but snort derisively.
As if there were any maids assigned to her at the mansion who took care of her. If there had been even one among those assigned who had cared for her, she would have remembered.
“What shall we do with them?”
“For now, make sure they can stay comfortably in good accommodations.”
“Comfortably, you say?”
“Yes.”
“You were close with the maids?”
Asking that, knowing it couldn’t be the case, irritated her.
“Do I need to tell you that?”
