Chapter 239: The Wounded
“Her vital signs are normal, no damage to her internal organs, and the injuries are just regular surface wounds. Her life’s not in danger. Don’t worry, this child is healthy. Judging by her current condition and the needle mark on her neck, it looks like she was only hit with a tranquilizer dart. She should wake up tomorrow during the day. Once she’s recovered a bit, I’ll give her another full check-up.”
“Good. I’ll leave her in your care then.”
“Understood, Vice Captain. Leave everything here to me.”
Carle let out a sigh of relief after hearing the doctor’s report. He gave a few quick instructions and then left Armand’s estate.
While Armand was holding off Evelia and Grey Dove, Rachel had already been taken by the black horse to a nearby knight division. From a distance, Grey Dove saw the knights carrying Rachel into the building, and knowing she was safe, she didn’t continue chasing and instead turned back to report to Evelia.
Not long after Grey Dove left, Carle’s men arrived at the knight division and, under the cover of night, brought Rachel back to Armand’s estate.
Carle had the best doctor from the knight order examine Rachel thoroughly. After confirming she was fine, he left the doctor behind to watch over her while he returned to the knight order headquarters.
But the first thing Carle did after returning wasn’t to go to the captain’s office, where the lights were still on. Instead, he went to the knights’ dormitory, entering through an old side door that hadn’t been used in a long time.
The dormitory was large so that all knights could have a place to stay. But since many knights had started families in the capital, half of the building was often empty, except during emergencies. That back door was rarely used and had started to fall into disrepair.
Still, even if no one used it, the place was kept clean according to the knight order’s rules. Carle walked up the stairs and stopped at the second-to-last room.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out an ordinary dorm key, unlocked the door with a soft click, and opened it.
A strong medicinal smell hit him immediately. It was bitter and metallic. Carle waved his hand in front of his nose but still stepped inside and, as usual, locked the door behind him. He glanced at the tightly drawn curtains and lit a candle on the table that had only just gone out.
Carle shook out the match and looked over at Armand, who was curled up on the bed under a thick blanket.
The floor was covered with used medicine bottles. Ointments meant for treating wounds were scattered everywhere, with some spilled out onto the floor.
There were also clear bloody footprints, leading directly to the bed. From the marks, it looked like Armand had slipped on the spilled medicine and knocked over a bunch of bottles.
“You still alive?”
Using the candlelight, Carle began picking up and organizing the bottles. He glanced at Armand’s blood-soaked coat lying on the floor and, deciding not to waste time, stepped on it and used it like a rag to wipe up the mess.
“…Ah…”
Armand seemed to just now notice Carle entering. He squinted his eyes and let out a hoarse response.
“…Nothing… serious… just… let me sleep…”
“This counts as nothing to you?”
Carle had seen Armand injured many times. Every time he got hurt, Armand would come hide out in this little dorm room. And every time, Carle could find him here, calmly treating his wounds, often even joking around while stitching himself up.
But this time, Armand didn’t seem like his usual calm and joking self at all.
When most people are weak, their lips turn pale. But Armand’s lips were tinged with blue. His blue eyes had lost their shine and were covered in a grayish haze, like he couldn’t even focus properly. Heavy dark circles hung under his eyes, making him look very weak. His face was also slightly red, probably from a high fever.
His nose was stuffed with two wads of tissue, one in each nostril, both packed tightly. You could still faintly see the blood staining the tissues. Since his nose was blocked, he had to breathe through his mouth, but even that didn’t seem easy. He kept taking deep breaths that didn’t feel complete, coughing as he choked, and spitting out small bits of bloody foam.
“Do you need me to do anything?”
“…I’m fine,” Armand mumbled, barely able to speak clearly. “I… will… get better… on my own…”
“You need to go home. Usually it’s fine for you to stay here, but not this time. Your servants can take better care of you at the estate.”
Carle knew very well that Armand came here just to treat his wounds in private. He always did this, whenever he had obvious injuries, he would come to this place first, apply healing ointments for surface wounds, and wait a few hours until those outer injuries disappeared. Only then would he return to the estate pretending nothing had happened. The deeper wounds under the skin could heal slowly on their own.
But this time was clearly different. Armand lay on the bed, curled up under the blanket, trembling slightly. His hair was a mess, stuck to his sweaty forehead. Every now and then, his body would shiver.
Knights getting hurt was nothing new, but Carle had never seen Armand this badly wounded before.
It looked like rescuing Rachel had cost him a lot. That girl must have gotten into some serious trouble with a powerful group.
Even so, Carle didn’t ask for any details. He never did.
If Armand needed help, he would offer it. If Armand didn’t want to talk, then he acted like he didn’t know anything.
But this time, even though Armand clearly didn’t want to go back to the estate, Carle made up his mind. He would send Armand home tomorrow.
The way Armand was now, he couldn’t take care of himself. Carle could help for a while, but he also had to handle the knight order’s affairs. He couldn’t stay and watch over Armand all the time. If Armand was going to get better faster, he needed to go back, where there were more people to care for him.
Of course, Carle knew that the one who usually took care of Armand at home had been that maid named Evelia. Now that she had died in an unexpected incident, Armand must have been deeply affected. Going back to the estate would only remind him of her.
But still, for the sake of the people who were still alive, Armand had to go back.
“Are you listening, Armand? Once your external wounds heal, I’ll take you home tomorrow.”
“…Home…” Armand muttered weakly, his thoughts unclear. “…Burned…”
“Hm?” Carle didn’t understand. “What did you say? Are you that out of it from the fever?”
“……”
Armand didn’t reply after that. Carle waited a moment, but seeing no response, he sighed softly.
“Forget it…”
He looked at the leftover medicine bottles scattered on the floor, crouched down, and quietly began picking them up one by one.
“I’ll just clean this place up… so tomorrow I can move you out of here more easily… You really are a troublesome guy.”