Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 20

“This is my wife’s matter. I will handle it,” Eirik said, looking his mother straight in the eye.

His firm tone brought a smile to the beautiful face of the woman, who had long crossed into her forties but still retained her charm.

“You’ll handle it. Fine.”

His mother, who had always regarded him as a boy, silently acknowledged his growth. The son who had spent over ten years on the battlefield now exuded an authority that filled the room without raising his voice.

“I’m sure you will.”

Moreover, his ability to manage the situation was commendable. Margravine Cladnier, who hadn’t even considered informing the royal family, now looked at Eirik proudly.

“However, may I borrow Edil for a while?”

“Of course.”

His mother nodded without hesitation. After a moment of silence, the doctor approached, bowing to indicate the examination was complete.

“How is she?” Eirik asked.

The doctor, named Gella, the only female doctor in the knight order, responded briskly despite being hurriedly summoned, “Fortunately, it appears she only sprained her right wrist slightly. It shouldn’t hinder her movements significantly, and I found no other serious injuries.”

“That’s a relief,” Margravine Cladnier said, approaching the sleeping Miesa to check her forehead and gently brush her hair aside. She offered a long prayer of gratitude before finally leaving the room.

“Check her again thoroughly.”

Now, only Miesa, Eirik, and the doctor remained in the room. Eirik gave the command to the doctor once more and then sat down in a chair.

Doctor Gella carefully lifted Miesa’s clothes, not just examining the exposed areas but also checking elsewhere. She discovered something.

“There are deep scars on the young madam’s body, especially on her side. Did you know about this? The overlapping scars indicate this has happened more than once…”

Eirik’s quiet stare made Gella instinctively stop talking.

There was no surprise on his face, only a look of calculation as he continued to stare at her. Gella hurriedly waved her hands.

“No, no, I mean… I’m just… I don’t know anything. There’s nothing to know. If there’s nothing, no one knows.”

“I said to check all the scars properly, but it seems quite disorderly,” Eirik remarked calmly.

“Ah, sorry. I will check again,” Gella replied, flustered.

She quickly turned back to carefully examine Miesa’s body, desperately trying to piece her thoughts together.

Having spent five years as a doctor in the knight’s order, Gella had seen that expression on Eirik’s face only three times. It was the look he used to gauge whether someone could be trusted to keep their mouth shut. Those eyes made her recall her entire past and swallow hard.

Her loyalty and discretion were now being weighed. Eirik never told anyone below his standards to keep their mouth shut. The only sure way to silence someone was through death.

Gella spent a long time examining Miesa’s body. In the end, there was nothing significant to treat.

“The old wounds are too old to treat, unfortunately. As for today’s injury, it’s mainly a sprain on her right wrist. I also worry she might have hit her head, but there’s no way to be sure.”

Gella had heard the rumors that the young lord’s wife wasn’t in her right mind, but she didn’t mention that a head injury might not be noticeable.

“I see,” Eirik said, his expression unreadable.

Gella felt the need to demonstrate her seriousness. “I’ve never disclosed confidential information, nor have I ever made a careless remark while drunk. I don’t even enjoy drinking, and I have no friends within the knight’s order.”

Eirik nodded, finally easing her tension. Gella sighed with relief and pulled out an ointment jar.

“The abrasions on her upper arm are severe. This ointment should be applied twice a day. Should I come by daily to do it?”

“Wait,” Eirik interrupted, a thought crossing his mind. He looked Gella up and down. A member of the knights’ medical corps, Gella.

Her identity is certain. Despite her average build and somewhat frail appearance, which might lead one to underestimate her, she had the rough mannerisms and formidable strength of a blacksmith’s daughter. She was known for her strength, once breaking the skull of an insolent squire. Since then, she hadn’t needed to demonstrate her hidden power.

“You don’t have much work these days, do you?” Eirik asked.

“Ah, people often misunderstand, but…”

“I’ll inform Edil. Starting tomorrow morning, you’ll report here.”

“Pardon?” Gella was taken aback.

“You may go now,” Eirik said, waving his hand dismissively as if tired of the conversation.

Although she didn’t understand the reasoning behind the order, Gella thought it was certainly better than being suddenly executed.

Quickly, she gathered her things and left the room. Eirik’s right-hand man, Cullen, who had been standing at the door, closed it behind her.

A long time passed. Miesa was sound asleep, her gentle snores filling the room. Eirik watched her for a moment before speaking.

“I know you’re not really asleep.”

The snoring stopped, but her eyes remained closed.

“What was your reason?” he asked calmly. “There must have been a reason.”

As he repeated his question, his voice grew softer. The hand clutching the blanket began to tremble.

Seeing her like this, it was impossible to stay angry. Eirik sighed deeply, reaching out to gently hold her hand.

“Miesa, it’s okay. Tell me.”

Miesa slowly opened her eyes and murmured in a hoarse voice, “There is a reason.”

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

“It’s hard… to say.”

He waited, but that seemed to be all she had to say. She held onto the blanket, offering no further explanation. Eirik decided to let it go for now but needed to make one thing clear.

“Never, ever harm yourself again. Do you understand? Break something, do anything else, but don’t hurt yourself.”

He spoke firmly. When she hesitated, he squeezed her hand a little tighter.

“I’m not saying you should do nothing. Just promise not to hurt yourself.”

She nodded, but Eirik needed more than that.

“This isn’t something that can be left unsaid. Promise me you won’t hurt yourself.”

“I promise,” she echoed softly.

“Good.”

Eirik’s hand gently caressed hers, his mood lifting slightly. Noticing this, Miesa hesitated before speaking.

“That woman earlier… my maid?”

Eirik couldn’t help but chuckle. His wife either had excellent intuition or absolutely none at all. She could grasp situations quickly but seemed oblivious to inappropriate moments.

Seeing her wide, expectant eyes, he felt compelled to answer. “Yes, I think so. Do you have any objections?”

Miesa shook her head. Eirik, still amused, continued explaining, “She’s a student of a famous doctor. Skilled in treating injuries, strong enough to fend off wolves, and fairly discreet.”

“How discreet?” Miesa asked.

Eirik thought for a moment before answering honestly, “She’s not easily bribed, but she’s never been tortured for information. It’s best if you continue pretending for now, unless you’re uncomfortable.”

Miesa focused intently on his words, not wanting to miss a single one.

“For reference, Cullen, who guards the second-floor wing, lost two fingers to torture and now wields a sword with his left hand. He’s the most trustworthy person I know, but even he doesn’t know everything about you.”

Seeing her relax slightly, Eirik realized she’d been more concerned than she’d let on.

He reached out, gently brushing the hair from her forehead as he spoke softly, “Since you’re injured, I’ll cut back on my duties with the knights. I’ll only handle urgent matters in the mornings.”

Miesa’s eyes widened in surprise at this.

“Then, more time, more talking?”

“What…?”

“‘Getting closer,’ ‘getting ready.’ Do we start now? Tomorrow?”

Eirik finally understood what she was getting at and got genuinely angry this time.

“What are you talking about? How can you even think about that when you’re injured like this?”

“Ow, ow…”

She pointed to her injured arm, feigning more pain than necessary. He still couldn’t grasp her logic.

“Don’t even think about it until you’re fully healed. Why is it so urgent?”

Miesa rolled her eyes and replied haltingly, “Marriage… proof… ‘Why have you not touched my sister? Are you thinking of annulling the royal marriage with the priest?’“

“What?”

Was she worried he might annul the marriage? As he tried to piece it together, Miesa continued, imitating someone’s voice, “‘Then are you just going to leave her like this? Isn’t it just common sense to get rid of her? You were about to marry that Rakane Crispin, and now this disaster?’“