Two days had passed since the fateful dungeon incident, and during that time, the physician and the nurse had spared no effort in providing diligent care for Seraphine. Their unwavering commitment had played a vital role in ensuring her comfort and a swift recovery from her injuries.
As the sun cast its warm afternoon glow, Seraphine slowly emerged from her deep slumber, feeling a slight ache in her head. She reached up and touched her temple, trying to alleviate the lingering discomfort.
"Ahh… how long have I been sleeping?" she wondered aloud, her voice filled with a mixture of confusion and weariness. The room seemed brighter now, with the sunlight streaming in through the window.
"Sir! Seraphine has awakened!" a maid excitedly exclaimed, catching sight of Seraphine's alertness. The news quickly reached the physician, who had momentarily stepped away from the area.
The physician hurriedly made his way to Seraphine's bedside, accompanied by the maid. Seraphine's awakening was met with a sense of relief, yet a touch of trepidation. The physician approached her gently, conducting another medical examination to ensure her well-being.
"It appears that your mental fatigue has significantly improved. You have made remarkable progress, but you still need to rest and allow yourself more time to recover," the physician informed her, a sense of reassurance present in his voice. He was relieved that her condition had not worsened, for the young master's wrath was not something he wished to encounter.
As Seraphine listened to the physician's words, her attention was drawn to her own hand. There, nestled in her palm, was a small and exquisitely crimson crystal. The sight of it caught her off guard, as her memory had paused at the moment she removed the demonic heart from the altar. She had not realized the transformation it had undergone.
"What is this?" she inquired, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and uncertainty, her hand trembling slightly. The physician and the maid exchanged puzzled glances, taken aback by Seraphine's reaction.
"That, Seraphine, is the purified form of the demonic heart that you finished," Alice replied, her voice filled with admiration. Seraphine glanced down at her hand, noticing the crystal she had been clutching tightly.
She released her grip, allowing the crimson gem to rest in the palm of her hand. The crystal shimmered with a pristine radiance, its pure energy emanating a sense of tranquility and power.
"It's... different," Seraphine whispered, her eyes fixed on the mesmerizing glow of the crystal. She could sense its purity, its untainted essence, and it filled her with a profound sense of awe. It was a stark contrast to the dark and corrupted demonic heart she had encountered in the dungeon.
Seraphine slowly rose from the bed. As she stood, she realized that the maids had already attended to her needs during her recovery. Her body felt refreshed, and she was clad in clean clothes, free from dust remnants.
Grateful for the care she had received, Seraphine took a moment to appreciate the dedication of the maids who had diligently tended to her. Their kindness and attention to detail had allowed her to focus on her own recovery.
As she prepared to leave the infirmary, the physician conveyed a message from Damian, the young master. "Once you feel ready, the young master requests your presence. He wishes to speak with you personally," he relayed, emphasizing the importance of the young master's request.
"I will go to him immediately," Seraphine replied, her voice filled with determination. Though still not at her full strength, she felt a surge of energy and was ready to meet with Damian.
As she made her way through the corridors of the mansion, she noticed a palpable sense of activity and anticipation. Servants hurriedly moved crates, their contents hidden from view. It was clear that something significant had transpired during her recovery.
"It seems that the treasures from the dungeon have arrived," Alice commented, observing the flurry of movement. Seraphine couldn't help but be intrigued by the treasure boxes and wondered how many they brought from the dungeon.
Seraphine walked among the workers, feeling a mix of emotions. On one hand, she was relieved and proud that her actions had contributed to the estate, despite the personal cost. But on the other hand, she couldn't help but feel a pang of longing.
She wondered if her actions would help elevate her humble status as a slave and help her achieve her survival, or if she would be forever condemned to serve those above her.
As she approached the door, she paused, taking a moment to steady her thoughts and compose herself. She had recovered physically, and now she was prepared to face the challenges that lay ahead.
Seraphine stood outside Damian's wooden office door, her hand trembling slightly as she raised it to knock. The seconds that followed felt like an eternity as she anxiously awaited his response. It was unusual for Damian to take this long to reply, and Seraphine couldn't help but wonder what might be going through his mind.
"Come in," Damian's voice finally rang out, the tone neutral and devoid of any obvious emotion. Seraphine took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest, and gently pushed open the door.
Inside the office, Damian sat behind an imposing oak desk, surrounded by stacks of papers and scrolls. His eyes were glued to the parchment as Seraphine entered, but his gaze quickly shifted to her.
Damian's eyes took in her appearance, noticing that she was now dressed in fresh clothes, looking more presentable than when they first met in the infirmary. He said nothing, but his expression suggested that he had been waiting for her to arrive.
"Take a seat," Damian instructed, gesturing towards a chair positioned across from him at the table. His quill was set down on a parchment, and he focused his attention fully on Seraphine.
With a polite nod, Seraphine moved to the designated chair and took a seat. She sat up straight, her hands folded neatly in her lap, and waited for Damian to begin the conversation. The room seemed to hold its breath as an air of tension settled upon them.
Damian finished his writing and carefully placed his quill down on the desk. He rose from his seat, gracefully making his way towards Seraphine, and took a position opposite her. His gaze locked with hers, and the intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine.
"Seraphine," Damian began, his voice measured and laced with tension. "Didn't I order you to refrain from getting involved in unnecessary risks?" The weight of his words hung heavily in the air, creating an atmosphere of unease and uncertainty.