"Dislocated shoulder, internal bleeding, organ trauma- among other things.." Doctor Keller lists out the patient chart one by one as he tends to the poor sod laying on the treatment bed, "He's lucky that this is all he got instead of dying, do you understand?"
"Ngh!"
Sieghart grunts at the doctor's words which cause us to look at him momentarily before checking in with Dr. Keller, rubbing my sore arms to encourage blood flow. "Are you sure he's asleep?"
"Positive." the old doctor grunts from his seat, "I'll eat my shoe if he wakes up right now. That sedative is enough to keep an active knight down until tomorrow morning, much less him."
Well, he's got a point. I'll take his very confident words on this matter.
This place I find myself right now is the treatment office, or should I say, the infirmary. The location is still on my wing, though it's past the servants' quarter on the bottom floor that I didn't get to parse through during the last tour due to Sieghart steering me away from it, so now I'm just enjoying the chance of having a legitimate reason to be here (even though said reason happens to be two victimized people in this case).
I gotta say, it's nice to finally see where I've been sending the girls when I need to fetch the trusty doctor! I've been itching, nay, dying to get here and so here's the short tour so I can remember it for later!
There are two beds on the left of the door. Nothing too fancy, just a simple wooden bed with thin boards to separate the two from view. Facing the door is a big window and a desk, where Dr. Keller sits, his back illuminated by what sunlight can get in through the shades of the tree that covers this area. His desk is littered with a stack of paper, an amber bottle filled with who-knows-what, and an ornate desk lamp that honestly doesn't match the vibe of the rest of the place.
And to the right, there are these floor-to-ceiling tall cabinets that remind me of traditional Chinese herbal places I used to pass on the way to school. Even the smell is pretty similar to that I remembered, accompanied by tools I'm used to seeing in the school's science lab. Something is brewing on one of the beakers, though I can't tell what since nothing comes to mind when it comes to glowing orange liquid, but it sure as hell looks sick. Very evil Doctor Lair-esque!
As I've sated my curiosity by discreetly looking around when I enter, I get to the reason why I'm here in the first place, visiting my savior and victim in some kind 2-for-1 combo. "How is his burn wound?"
"It's healing well, tch."
Dr. Keller clicks his tongue once he puts the paper he's been writing to the side, joining its parchment brethren. "Not as well as it should be, however, since he'd neglected to take proper care of it but using the Drip Elixir should get him back to heal that and everything else if he gets a steady amount of them for the next few days."
"That's good to hear." I land my gaze on the pink drip IV, hanging over the blond's head, steadily infusing him with healing liquid that I only learn the name of a few minutes ago. "I'll come back tomorrow for another dose. My sincerest apology for bothering you for the next foreseeable days, doctor."
Doctor Keller looks up from his writing, his eyes looking at me, on my arms where the IV syringe mark is still prominent against my paper-white skin. "I will thank him for ahem- your grace today, but tomorrow, he can uh, he can do it on his own."
It's ridiculous that I get thanked for literally helping someone that I almost waved my hand to stop the doctor from saying 'the script' so reluctantly. "You're not a very good actor, sir Keller, don't even try."
"Hey."
I hold back a laugh since that's not nice to the guy who had to play along with my antics, but I can't help it, he's really just that bad of an actor! The reason why we even had to act is even more ridiculous, in a very long and convoluted way that nobles are shit and thus make shitty regulation, I had to 'pretend' that I was feeling weak for the doctor to pull out the Liquid Elixir and 'pretend' to use it on the stubborn me who later, as I saw the needle underwent a 'change my mind' moment and the good doctor decides the medicine shouldn't go to waste and such, use it on the patients.
Now, I know that the medicine are logged, he showed me the logs, I just can't fathom why exactly we need to play out a script. It's not like there's a surveillance camera here...
Hold on. Electric(magic) kettle exists though why didn't I think of this before- fuck, let's have a meltdown later!
At this point Dr. Keller (whose side-eye game is so bombastic who'd have thought?) who decided to showcase his very hidden talent for acting that should remain hidden due to how passionate he is at it, sighs in defeat as he finally goes back to his usual grouchy demeanor. "Fine, if that's what my lady wishes."
It is what I wish for real! "Consider that advice as your tip for the day. It's not every day you get a personal review from one noble such as myself."
"Yes, yes, if you're done with the joke, let me tell you about the other patient over there."
I let the doctor's flimsy attempt to change topic slip as I turn my gaze to the other patient in the room, also sleeping on the bed though not as peacefully as his neighbor does.
The child, once cleaned and treated, turns out to be a little boy named Nichols. A freshly 5-year-old farm kid, hailing from somewhere south from what he had told Dr. Keller during his treatment. Unlike Sieghart's sedated state, Nichols' sleep is pure exhaustion, littered with bad dreams as the boy tossed and turned often despite his bound leg, and it's why I don't dare talk any louder than a whisper in case that woke him up.
"Aside from malnutrition and the clean wound you gave him, the only real concern is his right leg."
Dr. Keller stands from his desk to stand by the boy's bedside with both hands in his pockets. "It's been broken and set back incorrectly, sometime along a year or two ago. Not even cleaned properly since a bone shard is lodged in place it's not supposed to, making the whole situation worse. You said he was running?"
I nod. The doctor sighs. "Just the fact we get to preserve the limb is already a miracle. Even after I took out the shard, broke his leg, and set it back again correctly, there's only a slim chance that he's going to walk away normally. "
"I see."
I look down at the sleeping boy and feel.. nothing. It's weird to see and hear all the itemized evidence for another's suffering and feel nothing about it. What's scarier to me is in fact, that I had not cared about the boy until I saw him again laying on the bed when I entered the room. Perhaps I'd have forgotten about him entirely if not for that and that's got some terrifying implications to parse through.
I had sworn to not forget the important things and here I am, forgetting the important thing.
Deep down, I know that what I did was right. I also know that what happened to him are some of the worst things to ever happen to someone, especially to a child, but it feels as if none of the knowledge is registering to concoct any emotional response.
In a way, I instead understand that this is how Carlyanne feels when dealing with other people. Callous and unforgiving, even with mercy she handed on a whim, it became nothing of a passing matter as the scene of being taunted by Theo was the one she took away to store and remember in her dreams.
So, she hates losing. I get that. I understand the reason behind my smooth provocation during the confrontation was probably because that is how Carlyanne does it. I get that this is just phantom remains of a severed limb rejecting the transplant.
However.
I do not need to empathize even as I understand. To do so remains my prerogative as the unwilling passenger of this ride. I have to keep that line clear at all times if I want to keep what remains of myself intact through this.
Therefore, since she cannot do it for herself, I'm going to have to take responsibility for what I've done. "But he'll live?"
"He'll live."
That's enough. The rest, he can figure out himself. Living itself is a chance, after all. "I'll leave the rest to you then."
My feet carry me out of the little patient nook and out of the corner of the makeshift booth. It only takes about a few steps to cross the room to reach the door, and another step to fully stand in front of the door to-
"One last thing."
I turn around to see the doctor has walked out of the booth with me, though he stands when our eyes meet. "The Elixir is a drug, like any other, to be used to treat the living. It can only assist in healing, not erase scars, much less defy death herself."
"Misuse of it will lead to a downfall, no matter who thinks otherwise. Remember that, miss."
I feel something rumble in my chest, a deep seething of hate and a knee-jerk reaction that I smother for being out of place.
"Thank you for the invaluable advice, if there's nothing else I shall be away."
Turn the doorknob, open the door, shut the door, and walk away. The motion feels almost robotic in that I feel numb through it all even as I'm simultaneously aware of being present, the duality is so dizzying that I have to focus just to walk without stumbling on the air.
I wait until I get back to my room, shutting the door before anyone else can follow and reach inside, deep down than I ever did and dig my claws into the root cause to tear it down with each intake of breath I took.
"Huu…"
Quiet down, you.
"Huu…"
Anger has no place in this house.
"Huuu…."
I'm the new owner and management of this temple and my will is the law.
"…."
The heartbeat remains thudding strong, the blood flow that had gotten to my head is still rushing strong, but no longer as maddening as before. I open my eyes to the view of my desolate room and glance around from the bed to the settee, the chandelier, and the window. This week's curtains are pink with flower patterns printed on them, embroidered, more likely- with roses as the main vocal point.
Rose like my perfume, and the roses of the oils that were added to the tub for my soak. It's supposed to be two different combinations of roses, they say, one grown in the South and another grown in the North, the favorite of the miss to use during the mid-summer season.
The hatred simmers, rage subsiding, not disappearing but becoming an ember more manageable to observe and take care of.
I hit my chest, once, twice, to match the rhythm of the heartbeat and the throbs of pain that come with every second I hold my breath. It too, fades.
"Haaaa…."
So this is the real drawback huh? The caveat that I searched now rearing its ugly head when I'm least prepared, kind of pathetic now I think about it.
Look up, make sure I can stand without shaking (not that's ever a problem with this body), and try to hold myself for a few more seconds to be sure before I turn and face the door again.
Opening them revealed first a worried Sasha, her expression dire until she met my eyes and bows in a hurry. "Miss."
"Lunch time is it?" I open the door wider and take a step back, walking towards where my bed is. "Come in."
I don't hear the rolling wheels of the food tray as I turn, but when I've reached my bed and shed the outer shawl onto the floor, Sasha and the kitchen crew have moved in with tentative steps to wheel in the food and the mini table.
Winnie, Sonya, and Ina trail behind with dutiful attitude, setting up the place in silence unlike their usual bustle and ruckus. Even Ina's smile turns a bit stiff as our gaze meets, though that softens before I lose track of her among the moving staff.
Lunch is served. Potato salad without any flair, is sure to be bland.
I eat dutifully, as gracefully as the role of a young noble lady dictates, and decide that I'll be fine eating bland for a while if it make me feel nothing for a little while longer.
[author] A short chapter? In this house? More likely than you think![/author]