Beneath the Surviving Princess's Joyful Facade - Chapter 57

Miesa’s condition continued to worsen. From the early morning hours until dawn, there was no sign of improvement.

“Heat rash has appeared,” Gella noted, her voice tense.

Red spots had erupted on Miesa’s neck and collarbone, and she was breathing heavily.

“The fever has gone down,” Eirik said, touching Miesa’s forehead.

Gella shook her head. “Heat rash usually appears when the fever breaks, which is a good sign. But the problem is the color. Look here,” she pointed out.

Eirik glanced down and noticed that some of the red spots had turned a purplish hue.

“I’ve never seen symptoms like this before,” Gella admitted, her tone filled with concern. “Given the unknown poison she took, I’d like to consult with the other doctors in the knighthood if that’s alright with you.”

She bowed her head slightly, seeking Eirik’s permission. She knew it was risky to discuss the specifics, given her daily absence and the large medical pouch she had Vallek fetch, which made it obvious who the patient was.

“We have no other choice,” Eirik replied.

With his approval, Gella hurried off to the knighthood.

Eirik and Miesa were alone in the room. He sat on the sofa for a moment, tracing the patterns on the bed curtain with his eyes. Eventually, he stood and paced the room before approaching the bed to pull the curtain aside.

Miesa lay there, red spots covering her neck up to her face. He felt her forehead again, confirming there was no fever, and checked her breathing, which had become shallower.

Eirik stood by her side, watching over her. After some time, he climbed onto the bed, lying down a short distance away from her. Time passed slowly.

Suddenly, Miesa jolted awake, her body stiffening as she trembled and looked around the room.

“Are you awake?” Eirik asked, sitting up.

“Can you drink some water?”

“Th-thank you,” Miesa replied, her voice cracked.

Her sudden politeness made Eirik feel uneasy. Nevertheless, he poured a glass of water and held it to her lips, a wry smile playing on his lips as he was reminded of their wedding night.

“Thank you,” Miesa said again.

He silently adjusted her pillow and sat in the chair beside the bed, recalling that she hadn’t eaten since the previous afternoon.

“Would you like something to eat?”

“I don’t feel like eating yet,” Miesa answered weakly, closing her eyes again.

“But I’ve never heard of purple rashes,” one of the doctors muttered, the concern evident on his face.

Gathered in the room were all but two who were on leave, each looking increasingly worried.

“How big did you say they were?”

“This big… not the entire rash, but parts of it,” Gella explained, using her hands to illustrate the size.

“I’ve seen something like that on pigs before, but only in cheap back-alley pubs,” another doctor added.

At that moment, the door to the infirmary swung open, and Emmerich, Eirik’s cousin, barged in as if it were his own space.

“Just grabbing some medicine!” Emmerich announced, rummaging through the medicine cabinet for a hangover cure.

“We’re running low on Sisa tree root! Make sure to restock,” he grumbled, picking up various items. The doctors, still huddled together, continued their discussion.

“Are the rashes all over the body?”

“Yes, from here to here,” Gella confirmed, pointing to her own neck and collarbone to demonstrate.

Emmerich, eavesdropping from a distance, chuckled. “Which guy is it?”

“Excuse me?” Gella turned to him, confused.

“Back-alley pubs and rashes? Sounds like syphilis, doesn’t it?” Emmerich quipped.

The joking comment made Gella’s face turn pale. She snapped, “You don’t know what you’re talking about! How can you say something so ridiculous?”

“When have I ever known what I was talking about? Why are you so worked up?” Emmerich shot back, bemused.

“……”

No one answered, the silence thick with tension.

“Seriously, who is it? Who messed up?” Emmerich’s eyes darted between the doctors and Gella, trying to gauge the situation. Suddenly, it dawned on him. The person he was joking about wasn’t just anyone—it was someone important. His mouth fell open in shock.

“Wait, I must have misheard. What nonsense did I just spout?” He waved his hands dismissively, attempting to retreat.

Gella shouted after him, “It’s definitely not that! I swear!”

“I didn’t say anything!” Emmerich’s voice echoed down the corridor as he made his escape. Gella, fuming, turned back to the doctors who tried to reassure her.

“We know it’s not that.”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

“If it’s just heat rashes, they should be gone by tomorrow.”

“Right, don’t stress too much. You should get back to her,” one of the doctors patted Gella’s back.

However, those trying to console her exchanged worried glances when they thought she wasn’t looking.

“You believe me, right?” Gella asked, noticing the fear in their eyes. The realization struck her—she had felt the same fear just a few months ago, knowing something she shouldn’t. Trying to calm herself, she added, “I didn’t want to mention this, but she was poisoned recently.”

“We know. You used up all the reagents for the analysis,” one doctor acknowledged.

“Exactly. I’m worried these rashes might be another bad sign. We don’t know what they might have done to her in the palace or what they might have fed her,” Gella pressed on.

The mention of the palace made the doctors even more anxious, but Gella’s genuine concern won them over.

“Just take good care of her.”

“Do you need us to make any more medicine? Let us know if you do.”

“And when she recovers, tell her to come visit us.”

Someone’s abrupt comment caused the atmosphere to freeze again.

“That won’t work… The knights are too stiff.”

“True,” another agreed.

Knights, who valued honor above all else, would not look kindly upon the Lord’s wife. The last doctor who spoke felt the need to apologize.

“Sorry. I’ve never seen such rashes before, so I can’t be of much help.”

“How about writing to your mentor?” another suggested.

Gella’s mentor was renowned as the best doctor in the Esquillir Kingdom, known for his inability to stay in one place for long. His skills in treating external injuries were legendary; rumors said that as long as the patient was still breathing, he could save them no matter how severe the injury.

However, when these rumors reached the capital, the Crispin family had essentially abducted him to their estate, forcing him into a life of luxury and stability.

“Would telling him about her condition bring any good? Especially if Crispin finds out?” Gella worried.

“True. I’ve heard the Crispin family was behind the poisoning of the royal maids.”

Though the Cladnier household staff kept their conversations discreet, rumors had spread, and even the knights had heard that the Crispin Marquessate was in a mournful state due to the massive compensation they owed to House Cladnier.

“Your mentor mentioned that the Crispin family reads all his letters, right?” one doctor recalled.

“Yes, they monitor him closely to prevent him from escaping,” Gella confirmed.

“Maybe you could use the hand signals you’ve been learning recently to send him a discreet message?”

“…Unfortunately, my mentor doesn’t know the hand signals. He only worked with the Cladnier knights for three days before leaving,” Gella replied, dejected.

With no solutions in sight and her spirits low, Gella trudged back to the mansion.

“Young master.”

“Did you figure anything out?”

“…I’m afraid not.”

“It can’t be helped.”

Despite the his words, Gella was visibly agitated. There was a more pressing issue at hand.

“And also, while discussing with the other doctors…”

Gella knew she needed to report everything, especially after witnessing what happened with Mrs. Edil yesterday. She meticulously recounted the events.

“…Then Sir Emmerich came in and overheard just the last part, something about rashes in back-alley pubs…”

Eirik frowned, recalling how Emmerich often mocked knights with similar afflictions. His cousin had always had a nasty habit of teasing people.

“He realized what was happening and kept repeating that he must have misheard, then quickly left.”

Eirik clicked his tongue in annoyance. Gella, seeing his reaction, hesitated before speaking again. “Young master, you saw it yourself. This is clearly not…”

“Do you think I need you to explain it to me?” Eirik interrupted, frowning. Gella felt embarrassed but also relieved.

“Thank you. How is the young madam doing? Has she regained consciousness?”

“…Not yet.”

Eirik stood up and said, “I’ll leave. Maybe she’ll wake up if it’s just you here.”

Leaving this cryptic statement behind, Eirik exited the room.

“You’ve been up all night. I’ll have another maid sent to take over for you.”