Remember This Touch
After agonizing for a full four days, the brilliant plan she had devised was, in truth, nothing special. She had racked her brain for a way to draw Blair away from his position, even briefly, and bring him back again. In the end, the excuse she offered was the rather lame reason of wanting to “treat” people who were busy filling their bellies and lining their pockets.
Blair answered warmly.
“You’ve grown up, having such thoughtful ideas. All right, let’s do it. The only problem is that we’re short on helping hands here, and the nearby homes are nothing but tiny farms. Sourcing ingredients or liquor will be difficult. We’ll probably need to travel all the way to Anatolia, the closest major city.”
Unlike ordinary nobles, Blair did not travel with a large retinue. He had brought only a coachman, a squire to carry his luggage, and a single escort knight.
“Since there’s no one else to send, I’ll have to go myself. I’m acquainted with the lord of Anatolia. Besides, Adolf is staying there right now, so I was already thinking of making a short trip. This works out perfectly.”
With that, Blair left for Anatolia, the nearest large city. He told the servants he had urgent business at the ducal estate and would be returning there. They appeared to believe him—only to drop their masks the moment he was gone.
Held securely in Blair’s arms, she slowly scanned the servants’ frozen faces. The sight was almost magnificent. In the middle of it her eyes met Adela’s. The woman’s gaze burned like a quiet flame, vicious and accusatory, as if to say, So you were the one pulling strings behind all this.
“That room was left in that condition by Lady Odeliana herself. Whenever we brought food, she would throw a tantrum and spill everything. She also assaulted the servants who entered to clean. Cleaning the room, changing her clothes, feeding her on schedule and tidying up afterward—none of it was easy work.”
“Odeliana resorted to violence? Strange, then, that not a single one of you is injured. The only person here wounded badly enough to require a doctor’s care is Odeliana alone.”
“My lady’s self-harm is nothing new. I told you, didn’t I? Once the seizures begin, she grows violent. When she cannot turn that violence on us, she always inflicts the wounds on her own body.”
In a way, the claim was not entirely false. The countless scars covering her body had indeed come from the walking exercises she had begun out of sheer boredom. After falling and rising again hundreds of times, the injuries could certainly be viewed as self-inflicted.
Still, there was no need to correct them, so she kept silent.
“Young Master, please do not forget that the young lady suffers from insanity. Her mind is not whole. We who have attended her for decades beg you to understand our hardships.”
She’s a real snake.
The label of “mental patient” attached to this body was undeniably fatal. Even if she stepped forward now and declared herself perfectly sane, the brand of madness had already been seared onto her. What difference would it make? Instead of arguing, she simply stared at Blair.
He glanced between Adela and Odeliana, then let out a soft, dry laugh.
“Whatever the truth may be, neglecting a patient in this manner is dereliction of duty. Do my parents know about this?”
“…The master and mistress were never informed of the isolation measures.”
Blair sat with one leg crossed over the other, long fingers tapping the edge of the table, openly displaying his displeasure.
“Whether Odeliana has truly been committing violent acts is something we can determine by observing her over a probationary period.”
“……”
“Adela, you insisted that Odeliana suffers frequent seizures and violent outbursts. You called it an unavoidable measure. I will remain here a while longer and judge for myself whether your claims are true. Observing the cycle and behavioral patterns of her seizures should suffice.”
“…Young Master, Lady Odeliana is only docile in your presence.”
“Is that so? Then at the very least it means she can distinguish people properly. Can that still be called insanity? Are you claiming that a madwoman is capable of controlling her own condition?”
Adela, composure shattered, could not utter a word. Her earlier confidence had been crushed long ago.
Blair von Grusewald was never an easy man.
Within the Grusewald ducal house he had always been renowned for intellect that surpassed even the eldest son. Underestimating a man destined to become a titan of commerce would be foolish.
To middle-aged Adela, Blair must have seemed like a mere boy, someone she could look down on.
He declared a one-month grace period. During that time he would observe Odeliana to confirm whether she truly displayed aggression as Adela claimed and to measure the frequency of her seizures. To the servants, his decision was little short of a death sentence.
She was certain of it when she saw their faces darken.
She had never suffered from insanity to begin with. If Lady Odeliana had truly experienced periodic seizures and violent episodes as Adela insisted, they would not look this devastated.
Why had they done those things to her? There might be endless excuses for acts worse than those of beasts. Human motives were relative and subjective, after all. Perhaps they had their own circumstances.
Yet she felt no interest in any of it. She doubted there could be any justification for their harassment, but even if there were reasons everyone would be forced to accept, there was still no need to endure it.
One unhappy life had been enough.
The servants, now placed on Blair’s scale of judgment, could no longer behave with their former arrogance. The annex where she had been imprisoned was sealed off. After examining the villa’s ledgers, Blair stripped Adela of every ounce of authority and began managing the household himself. The personal physician was dismissed as well; the accounts had revealed a steady flow of money into the doctor’s pocket.
Once corruption rose to the surface, it spilled out in an endless chain. Unable to withstand Blair’s relentless questioning, the doctor confessed that he had accepted bribes and falsified medical records.
Blair immediately sent a telegram to the lord of Anatolia requesting a trustworthy new physician to examine Odeliana.
“Constitutionally frail, yes, but aside from her congenital leg disability she has no serious underlying conditions.”
“Are you certain?”
“Yes. However, the young lady has not received adequate nutrition, so her body is quite weak. She will need plentiful meals to restore her strength and regular light exercise to build stamina.”
“…And your assessment of her mental condition?”
“The young lady does not suffer from insanity. The memory impairment you mentioned, however, does appear to be genuine. She seems to have lost portions of her past recollections.”
“Is the cause unknown?”
“…I suspect prolonged abuse and the resulting psychological trauma, though I cannot say for certain. Mental disorders are notoriously difficult to diagnose with precision.”
The hierarchy that had been overturned was restored under Blair’s firm direction.
She could now sleep each night in a soft bed beneath warm, fluffy blankets. Three times a day she changed into clean, freshly laundered clothes. Every meal offered more than six varied dishes to satisfy her hunger.
Her days were no different from those of any ordinary noble daughter, yet she could not afford to lose herself in this peaceful routine. The immediate fire had been extinguished, but the root of the problem remained untouched.
Blair could not stay here forever. New servants would eventually replace the old ones, but there was no guarantee they would not repeat the abuse. The moment oversight slackened, she would be crushed once more.
Caring for an invalid was no simple task. Without genuine compassion, the stress of the work would likely be vented on someone weaker. In this household, the weakest person—someone who could not even walk properly without assistance—was none other than the unfortunate young lady.
She needed a plan. She needed a new barrier to replace Blair. At that moment, a calm, low voice rose from memory.
“Remember this sensation well, Master.”
The cool touch that gently closed around her hand.
“The hand Master should have held first was not that man’s, but this disciple’s.”
“…Mathias.”
Her mind snapped awake.
Yes. In this time, seven years in the past, she was not the only one present. The future war hero who would play a decisive role in Joslyn’s usurpation of the throne was here as well—the young beast who had not yet been tamed by anyone.