Chapter 208
Lucas did not regain consciousness until another three days had passed.
Fortunately, his vocal cords had suffered no permanent damage, so speaking itself posed little difficulty. However, the aftereffects of his injuries manifested in an entirely unexpected way.
Lucas could not remember in the slightest how he had been injured.
Thankfully, he had not lost all of his memories, but there now seemed to be a considerable blank space in the course of his life after the age of sixteen.
"Considering that his cervical vertebrae were nearly crushed, it is nothing short of miraculous that these are the only lasting effects."
After carefully evaluating Lucas through a lengthy examination, the High Priest let out a relieved sigh as he spoke.
"In the worst cases, patients suffer total paralysis or even severe cognitive decline, to the point where they lose the ability to distinguish right from wrong. But in Young Master Lucas's case, it appears there are no lasting complications beyond partial memory loss."
Relieved sighs spread among those gathered around the bed.
Lucas himself, however, seemed unable to accept the High Priest's conclusion.
Looking gaunt as he lay half-reclined against the pillows, he knitted his brows together and muttered irritably,
"My head feels like someone chopped it into pieces and scrambled everything together. What's so miraculous about that?"
His voice had become noticeably lower and rougher than before.
Apparently displeased by it, a deeper crease formed between his brows.
"And now my voice sounds like this."
"I thought... I thought you were really going to die."
Raina, who had been sitting beside the bed sniffling the entire time, blew her nose into a handkerchief before speaking.
"I was terrified that even if you woke up, you wouldn't be yourself anymore. It's such a relief that you only ended up a little dumber than usual."
Lucas shot his younger sister a narrow-eyed glare.
"Is that seriously supposed to comfort me?"
Clicking his tongue in disbelief, he nevertheless reached out and gently stroked the head of his sister, who still could not stop crying.
Standing silently by the doorway as he watched the scene unfold, Varkas stepped closer to the bed.
"Do you truly remember nothing about how you were injured?"
Lucas looked up at him with a bewildered expression.
His eyes, once a bright golden-brown, had darkened into a deep brown.
"I..."
As he desperately searched through his memories, Lucas suddenly clutched his temple and let out a low groan.
The instant she saw it, Raina leapt to her feet and wrapped both arms tightly around his head.
"You don't have to remember!"
Then she looked straight at Varkas and snapped sharply,
"Lucas was unconscious for almost two weeks before he finally woke up today. He nearly lost his life. Why should he force himself to relive those memories right now?"
Lucas tugged weakly at his sister's sleeve, trying to stop her, but Raina refused to budge.
Watching them with his arms folded across his chest, Varkas let out a quiet sigh before stepping away from the bed.
"Rest until you've fully recovered. All of your duties have been reassigned to Baredon for the time being."
A crease formed once more between Lucas's brows.
Judging by the look on his face, he could barely remember what duties had even been entrusted to him.
Varkas silently observed the cold sweat gradually forming across his younger relative's face as the headache intensified.
Then, without another word or a trace of hesitation, he left the room.
Outside in the corridor, vassals who had heard that Lucas had awakened had already gathered in large numbers.
Varkas passed through them without so much as a glance and headed downstairs.
Just as he was about to descend the final step, the chief maid called after him urgently.
"Your Grace."
Varkas turned his head.
A sturdily built woman approached with unmistakable tension written across her face before cautiously opening her mouth.
"Now that Young Master Lucas has awakened safely... will Her Grace the Grand Duchess's confinement finally be lifted?"
Varkas frowned.
For days he had been hounded by retainers insisting that the punishment imposed upon the Grand Duchess had been far too lenient.
The accumulated irritation naturally sharpened his reply.
"Since when has the chief maid risen to a position where she may question how the Grand Duchess is to be dealt with?"
The stern rebuke made the woman's broad shoulders stiffen.
After giving her pale face a cold stare, Varkas turned away again and continued down the stairs.
He crossed the great hall and was about to leave the castle when the chief maid hurried after him once more.
"I-I know I'm overstepping my place. But..."
Actually daring to block his path, she hesitantly continued.
Varkas looked down at her with visible annoyance.
Unable to meet his eyes, the woman kept her gaze fixed on the floor as the words spilled out in a rush.
"If Her Grace the Grand Duchess is left like this... I'm afraid something truly terrible will happen. Could you please reconsider how she is being treated?"
The unexpected plea caused Varkas's brows to lift.
Everyone in this castle regarded Talia as little different from the source of the string of disasters that had struck them.
This chief maid was no exception.
She had never displayed her dislike as openly as the other retainers, but Varkas had always known she did not think highly of the Grand Duchess.
He had simply left her in her position because, as chief maid, she had never neglected her duties.
To begin with, very few people would willingly serve Talia, who lashed out at everyone around her like a hedgehog with every spine raised.
That was precisely why the attendants assigned to her side had all been chosen for their exceptional patience and their ability to separate personal feelings from duty.
The chief maid before him had been one of those carefully selected people.
If even she was this desperate, then something truly unusual must have happened.
Varkas's expression changed in an instant.
"What has happened to her?"
"Since moving into the detached residence..."
She hesitated before finally answering.
"...she has refused to eat."
The moment those words left her mouth, Varkas's face tightened almost imperceptibly.
His fist clenched as he stared beyond the frost-covered garden.
Near the castle gate, his subordinates already stood assembled, waiting to depart.
He had been scheduled to leave with them before noon for the council meeting.
An overwhelming mountain of state affairs awaited him, including the selection of new lords to govern the northeastern territories.
He no longer had the luxury of indulging her tantrums.
His voice turned cold.
"This isn't the first time the Grand Duchess has gone on a hunger strike."
The chief maid's lips stiffened.
As though deliberately ignoring her expression, he stepped toward the castle gates.
"Leave her alone. She'll tire herself out soon enough."
He was just about to continue down the steps when an urgent voice rang out behind him.
"It isn't that simple. The situation has become so serious that I knew I was being disrespectful, yet I still had to report it."
Varkas stopped dead.
The woman hurried back in front of him and continued with a rigid expression.
"According to Her Grace's personal maids, she hasn't merely refused meals. She hasn't taken even a single sip of water. Before this, she would at least occasionally drink honey wine or eat dried fruit... but now she refuses absolutely everything. If she's left like this..."
The woman trailed off before she could finish.
Varkas remained rooted to the spot like prey caught in a snare, staring silently at the ground.
How long he stood there, no one knew.
At last, he cursed under his breath and turned around.
"Inform the retainers that the council meeting is postponed."
Without another word, he headed straight through the main castle toward the detached residence on the northern side of the fortress.
Passing the auxiliary buildings within the inner walls, a three-story manor standing in the rear garden came into view.
The soldiers guarding its entrance looked startled by the Grand Duke's sudden appearance and immediately straightened from where they had been leaning against the wall.
Varkas walked past them and entered the building.
Near the entrance, several young maids were seated together preparing ingredients for the kitchen.
"Where is Her Grace the Grand Duchess?"
The moment he addressed them, the maids sprang to their feet as though struck by a whip.
"Y-Your Grace!"
One of them hurriedly bowed her head before stammering,
"H-Her Grace is... in the bedroom on the second floor."
Varkas immediately climbed the wooden staircase.
At the end of the narrow corridor stood a bedroom door made of dark red mahogany.
He walked up to it and grasped the handle.
The door creaked open.
Through the narrow gap, the dim interior of the room gradually revealed itself.
Without hesitation, he crossed to the window and pulled the heavy blackout curtains aside.
Winter sunlight streamed through the glass and flooded the bed.
The instant his gaze landed upon it, Varkas involuntarily drew a sharp breath.
In only a few days, she had become even thinner.
His eyes slowly traveled over her deathly pale face, drained of every trace of vitality, the fragile neck beneath which blue veins showed through her skin, and the emaciated body revealed beneath the folds of her disheveled dress.
His voice came out low and heavy.
"What exactly are you trying to do?"
The woman, lying motionless like a broken doll, slowly opened her eyes.
At that very moment, an unnatural chill swept through his entire body.
She looked at him for a long moment with eyes as desolate as a grave.
Then she quietly lowered her eyelids again.
Turning onto her other side, she murmured in a voice so weak it sounded ready to crumble apart,
"...Just leave me alone."
The sight finally shattered the anger he had been suppressing.
He seized her by the shoulders and roughly turned her back to face him.
"I asked you... what you're doing."
She gave no response.
She merely looked at him with vacant eyes, as though she genuinely could not understand why he was angry at all.