The Duke's Sudden Retreat
As expected, the man before her was not Duke Farrow himself. Yet the reason Tichite Ranlam had been summoned here was undoubtedly because of that man—the scarred Nyx Farrow.
With a troubled heart, she fidgeted with her fingers as rumors she had heard at the tavern flashed through her mind: his face half-melted, his skin hanging in tatters, or worse.
They say he possesses remarkable skill in treating skin ailments.
The speaker's own complexion was flawless and smooth, so the person seeking treatment was almost certainly the Duke. Though she had half-expected this, Tichite could not bring herself to confirm it outright.
Still, she could not afford excessive humility. Several months' worth of living expenses—along with the debts and work tied to them—hung in the balance.
After a moment's hesitation, she replied with careful restraint.
"I understand that Tilamin medicine is often dismissed as the sorcery of heretics. Those of high station tend to avoid openly seeking such prescriptions."
She needed to be certain whether their intent was purely to receive help, or whether this was a trap meant to draw a confession for the Church.
She could not tell how her suspicion landed with Desidero. In any case, he lowered his authoritative tone and spoke with weary resignation.
"I will say this plainly. Yes, you are correct. The Duke is a devout child of the Moon Mother and harbors a particular loathing for Tilamin soldiers. Yet the fact that he is willing to seek your aid speaks volumes. He has consulted every physician in Bigland and undergone every treatment they recommended. For over a decade, none have brought any improvement to his condition."
In truth, Desidero had been deeply disappointed. The apothecary he had so desperately sought turned out to be a heretical woman. He found neither her expressionless face nor her pitch-black eyes appealing, and even the tightly netted hair struck him as distasteful.
But now was not the time for such scruples. The only thing that mattered to Desidero was the Duke's complete recovery—nothing else.
"So it makes no difference who you are. Whether you are a Tilamin slave or a commoner, if you can cure the Duke's illness, that is all that matters."
His sigh carried genuine desperation. Tichite opened the door of her guarded heart just a fraction and answered cautiously.
"Lady Mentos's condition… it was not leprosy."
"So I have heard. What was that dreadful suppuration, and how did you cure it?"
"She simply possessed an extreme sensitivity to certain foods. Wheat-based meals caused her body to swell and brought out red spots and hives across her skin. Because she consumed such staples daily, it seemed incurable. Once the cause was identified and removed, it was easily resolved."
There were people like that in the world—those whose daily lives were disrupted by ordinary substances and environments that others tolerated without issue. Fortunately, this was a problem Tichite could handle.
Yet there were far more illnesses she did not know, diseases beyond the reach of her knowledge.
"Most who seek me out expect exactly that—a miraculous panacea that cures any ailment as if washing it away. Unfortunately, I know nothing of such fantastical herbal combinations."
Desidero listened to her quiet explanation, then spoke in a somewhat pained voice.
"But Lady Mentos claimed she saw results from the medicinal bath you recommended."
"That was merely a supplementary measure to manage damaged skin. It was not the decisive treatment."
A pitiful sound escaped Desidero's lips. While one must guard against frauds who made empty boasts, excessive humility was equally unsettling.
"I would simply like you to examine him first. Whether there is anything you can do can be decided afterward. It will not be too late."
The man asked her to see the Duke's condition with her own eyes and make a judgment. Tichite nodded in agreement.
"Very well."
He asked her to wait a moment.
"The Duke is currently at evening prayer and cannot receive you just yet."
Once the sacrament was finished, he would summon her immediately. It seemed the Duke did not wish to be seen in private contact with a Tilamin.
Before his servant moved the wheelchair, Desidero added one more request.
"There is one more thing I must ask. It concerns your hair."
"My hair?"
The man pointed at the style Tichite had kept hidden beneath her scarf.
"Your clothing cannot be helped, but I would prefer you remove that net from your hair."
Tichite stiffened at the rude demand. This time, she could not simply nod in compliance.
Tilamin women did not let their hair down in public. She could not tell whether the man lacked understanding of her culture or understood it all too well and was deliberately insulting her. She bit her lip in discomfort.
When she hesitated, Desidero added calmly,
"As I mentioned earlier, the Duke harbors strong aversion toward people of your race and nation. If we can remove the most overtly Tilamin elements from your appearance beforehand, it would be best."
In short, he found the sight of her offensive and wanted it gone.
Tichite clutched her skirt instead of her hair, wavering, then finally raised her hand to her brow. Though she felt a faint sting of contempt, she could not refuse when he put it that way. She had no desire to defy a noble over pointless stubbornness.
She tugged the scarf strings free in one swift motion.
Kanne watched the entire scene from behind her with keen interest. He had expected her long hair to tumble down, but instead the black strands were tightly coiled into round bundles resembling animal ears.
Well now… that is rather charming.
Kanne snorted. The fact that she had neatly braided and styled hair that no one else would ever see struck him as an unexpectedly endearing trait.
Tichite began to unravel the coiled bundles one by one. Because they had been so tightly plaited, the kinks remained even after the ties were loosened. Her thick, dark hair cascaded down in soft, natural waves.
Desidero watched with a slight frown, then nodded with moderate satisfaction. The black color still displeased him, but it was far better than when it had been hidden beneath the net.
"I should warn you in advance—the Duke possesses a rather fiery temperament. Even if he speaks harshly, do not be too alarmed. Summoning you was my own unilateral decision, so I cannot predict how he will react. This is also the first time I have brought a Tilamin before him. Ah, and when you stand before the Duke, you must kneel. Standing upright as you are now would be inappropriate."
His words carried a subtle undercurrent of dehumanization. Tichite felt a flicker of dread at how much more prejudiced the man he served might be.
He despises Tilamin yet wants Tilamin medicine.
She thought with displeasure. Vowing to endure any discriminatory remark without complaint, she tempered her burning heart.
However, when Tichite finally came face to face with Duke Farrow, she realized there was a far more pressing issue than her origins.
***
"Come in."
Desidero's servant opened the door. She followed his straight back inside.
Tichite's gaze first found the familiar man, then shifted to the stranger.
Thud, thud.
The Iron Horse Duke whom Desidero revered so deeply took one look at her and broke into a fit of panic before fleeing the room in haste. She had not even had time to kneel as instructed.
Tichite blinked in bewilderment. Desidero pressed a hand to his forehead, his face filled with dismay. He let out a heavy sigh before offering an awkward excuse.
"Our Duke is… rather shy around strangers."
Yet earlier he had described the man as having a fiery temperament. Tichite continued to frown, still unable to make sense of it.