Irene Decided to Die - Chapter 22
Irene bowed to the departing Duke of Rostelle and straightened up only after a long while.
The time of the meeting was short, but it felt particularly long to those enduring it.
“Has he gone?”
As she staggered from the drain of strength, Burt, who had appeared at some point, caught her.
“He’s gone.”
Irene wrapped her arms around herself, her expression stiff as if she had seen something horrifying. Then, her bandaged, blunt fingers began to scratch down her arm.
“Terrible.”
The blood-soaked end of the bandage drew a red line over her clothes. Burt sighed and carefully grabbed her hand to stop it.
“This is why your wounds don’t heal. Do you do this every time the Duke of Rostelle visits?”
“I know.”
“Then, how about being more careful?”
Burt asked, to which Irene replied irritably.
“Leave me alone. I’m keeping the promise, aren’t I?”
Not to die. It was the only promise that had been exchanged between the two.
However, Burt couldn’t just leave Irene alone, trusting only in that promise. He strangely didn’t want to.
“The physicians are getting anxious. No matter how much they treat you, your wounds won’t heal. They say even minor wounds can get infected and lead to death. What do you think?”
Only then did the hand that had been squirming in Burt’s grip calm down. Instead, a sigh seemed to escape from the body cradled in his arms.
“Okay, let me go.”
Burt complied with Irene’s request.
“A physician is waiting.”
Irene seemed bothered by this as well but followed Burt’s suggestion. She knew he would cling persistently if she refused.
She hadn’t realized he was this kind of person before.
‘He’s difficult to deal with.’
Always with a calm face, never showing anger, and methodically pointing things out, it felt awkward to lash out unilaterally. Moreover, since he was usually right, she often ended up following his advice.
If she wondered if he was trying to control her and watched him closely, he would step back and merely observe.
When Irene, supported by Burt, entered the room, a familiar physician and his assistant were waiting.
He carefully unwrapped the bandages around Irene’s hand and applied the medicine. He seemed to have a lot he wanted to say but chose silence.
‘If only the King of the North would take a lesson from this physician.’
Irene thought this as she received her treatment and sent the physician away.
“By the way, how have the maids been doing lately?”
“They are doing well. It seems they are gradually relaxing these days.”
Initially, the maids, tense and cautious, were finding their comfort over time.
The clergy treated them well, and since Irene didn’t seek them out, they must have felt at ease.
Irene said with a faint smile,
“I should drop by soon.”
“May I raise an objection?”
“What objection?”
“How about waiting until your wounds have healed before visiting?”
“That would be too late. Now is the perfect time.”
“But every time you meet the Duke of Rostelle, your condition worsens. I fear it might not be any different with them.”
“Fear?”
Irene snorted in disbelief. She was amused that he would say something she found so hard to believe.
When it came to being mercilessly thrown to the torturers, where was this concern? Now, the sight of fretting over minor wounds was distasteful to her.
“I’m going to move as I please, so don’t try to stop me.”
“Then, please do not harm yourself.”
Irene’s eyebrows raised at his blunt statement.
“It feels like I’ve become a nanny, the way you keep on.”
Burt sighed softly and continued.
“If you dislike it, you could always quit.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Because I’m the saint?”
“Yes, because you, Lady Irene, are the saint.”
It was a well-known fact. Without her status as the saint, she was a body without worth.
A body that needed to remain alive because it was that of a saint.
Once again, she found her own existence repulsive, but now was the time to endure.
Irene closed her mouth and lay down on the bed. Reading the silent permission in her action, Burt said,
“Thank you.”
Now, even allowing her body to rest was a reason to receive thanks. The situation had definitely changed from before.
Finding it both ludicrous and sad, Irene closed her eyes.
* * *
The maids were having a more comfortable time than they had expected.
Initially, they were quite anxious, but as everyone around them treated them well, their minds gradually eased.
Occasionally, very occasionally, they did feel a surge of anxiety, though.
“Why are you all treating us so well?”
One day, driven by curiosity, a maid asked the question to a cleric.
Even for a cleric, who was of a higher status than maids, the way they were acting seemed almost reversed, is it not?
