Arde – Present
There was one small detail that Arde noticed at that moment.
Right next to Lukrov, there was a sword leaning against the wall. At first, she thought it had been left and forgotten there, but it seemed too well prepared to be natural.
It was a long sword without a scabbard, polished and ready to be used.
It was both beautiful and sharp….
At the same time, Arde’s instincts were filled with suspicion and doubt.
Indeed, in Lukrov’s private quarters, there was a considerable assortment of weapons. However, he had never brought them into Chizuru’s room. Even when he spent the night here, Lukrov sometimes kept a dagger somewhere for self-defense, but he never placed it in plain sight.
For him, Chizuru’s room was sacred, not to be defiled with weapons.
That was it.
Sometimes, when Chizuru’s breathing became strained and faint, Lukrov’s gaze would shift to the sword immediately.
Arde closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath, struggling to calm her grief-ridden mind.
This wasn’t the time to be crying.
If Chizuru did not make it, Lukrov was already prepared.
Arde couldn’t say anything about it – no… She didn’t even know what to say.
The moment the beef soup arrived in the room, Arde approached Chizuru with a silver spoon.
“She has to eat this. … Shall I do it?”
Since Lukrov basically wanted to care for Chizuru himself, there was no need to ask anything. However, Arde asked only to be sure.
As expected, Lukrov shook his head.
“Hand it to me.”
He carefully lifted Chizuru’s upper body and cushioned her back with a couple of soft pillows to give her more comfort.
He held Chizuru firmly by the shoulders with one arm and slowly brought the spoon to his lips with the other hand.
After blowing on the soup to cool it down to a suitable temperature, Lukrov whispered to Chizuru gently – as if to encourage her.
“Just eat some of this, Chizuru, even if it’s just a little bit.”
Chizuru’s consciousness seemed to be foggy, and she could barely move aside from opening her eyes a crack. Lukrov placed the tip of the spoon against Chizuru’s lower lip.
“At least, do it for me.”
Chizuru opened her mouth slightly.
He carefully poured some soup into it, and Chizuru managed to swallow a little bit of the amber liquid. She immediately coughed and gasped in pain.
Lukrov tossed the spoon aside and wrapped his hands around Chizuru’s face in an affectionate gesture.
“Good girl, There’s no need to rush. Let’s drink slowly. I have all the time in the world for you.”
Instantly after Lukrov soothed her, Chizuru let out a heart-rendering sigh and leaned on his shoulder as if she were being pampered.
Chizuru took her time and managed to drink about half of the bowl. Soon after, she sank into a heavy sleep, exhausted, and did not wake up for quite some time.
One day passed in that manner.
As the second and third days progressed, there was a slight glimmer of hope.
Her fever was still as high as ever and showed no signs of subsiding, but her conscious time gradually increased with each passing day.
Estabelle would come to Chizuru’s room twice a day to check on her wounds, sterilize them, apply fresh herbs, and change the bandages. It was difficult to read the expression on the old woman’s face, which was covered with deep wrinkles, but even so, Arde felt that her expression was becoming somewhat calmer, or was it just wishful thinking on Arde’s part?
She hoped that this was not the case.
At least the wound did not become infected as they feared. Also, the bleeding had stopped, and the wound seemed to be slowly recovering.
Arde – Present
There was one small detail that Arde noticed at that moment.
Right next to Lukrov, there was a sword leaning against the wall. At first, she thought it had been left and forgotten there, but it seemed too well prepared to be natural.
It was a long sword without a scabbard, polished and ready to be used.
It was both beautiful and sharp….
At the same time, Arde’s instincts were filled with suspicion and doubt.
Indeed, in Lukrov’s private quarters, there was a considerable assortment of weapons. However, he had never brought them into Chizuru’s room. Even when he spent the night here, Lukrov sometimes kept a dagger somewhere for self-defense, but he never placed it in plain sight.
For him, Chizuru’s room was sacred, not to be defiled with weapons.
That was it.
Sometimes, when Chizuru’s breathing became strained and faint, Lukrov’s gaze would shift to the sword immediately.
Arde closed her eyes tightly and took a deep breath, struggling to calm her grief-ridden mind.
This wasn’t the time to be crying.
If Chizuru did not make it, Lukrov was already prepared.
Arde couldn’t say anything about it – no… She didn’t even know what to say.
The moment the beef soup arrived in the room, Arde approached Chizuru with a silver spoon.
“She has to eat this. … Shall I do it?”
Since Lukrov basically wanted to care for Chizuru himself, there was no need to ask anything. However, Arde asked only to be sure.
As expected, Lukrov shook his head.
“Hand it to me.”
He carefully lifted Chizuru’s upper body and cushioned her back with a couple of soft pillows to give her more comfort.
He held Chizuru firmly by the shoulders with one arm and slowly brought the spoon to his lips with the other hand.
After blowing on the soup to cool it down to a suitable temperature, Lukrov whispered to Chizuru gently – as if to encourage her.
“Just eat some of this, Chizuru, even if it’s just a little bit.”
Chizuru’s consciousness seemed to be foggy, and she could barely move aside from opening her eyes a crack. Lukrov placed the tip of the spoon against Chizuru’s lower lip.
“At least, do it for me.”
Chizuru opened her mouth slightly.
He carefully poured some soup into it, and Chizuru managed to swallow a little bit of the amber liquid. She immediately coughed and gasped in pain.
Lukrov tossed the spoon aside and wrapped his hands around Chizuru’s face in an affectionate gesture.
“Good girl, There’s no need to rush. Let’s drink slowly. I have all the time in the world for you.”
Instantly after Lukrov soothed her, Chizuru let out a heart-rendering sigh and leaned on his shoulder as if she were being pampered.
Chizuru took her time and managed to drink about half of the bowl. Soon after, she sank into a heavy sleep, exhausted, and did not wake up for quite some time.
One day passed in that manner.
As the second and third days progressed, there was a slight glimmer of hope.
Her fever was still as high as ever and showed no signs of subsiding, but her conscious time gradually increased with each passing day.
Estabelle would come to Chizuru’s room twice a day to check on her wounds, sterilize them, apply fresh herbs, and change the bandages. It was difficult to read the expression on the old woman’s face, which was covered with deep wrinkles, but even so, Arde felt that her expression was becoming somewhat calmer, or was it just wishful thinking on Arde’s part?
She hoped that this was not the case.
At least the wound did not become infected as they feared. Also, the bleeding had stopped, and the wound seemed to be slowly recovering.
