After that incident, Tusha could feel Glocara growing more anxious day by day. She became clumsy in her work, once almost tending to a patient without washing her hands after handling a corpse, and another time cutting her hand, which led to a high fever for several days. If not for Tusa's help, she wouldn't have completed even half her tasks.
However, Tusha showed no real concern for these incidents. He was absorbed in treating and researching those who had overdosed on "dinner," and his increased efforts to assist Glocara seemed only to clear his workload faster so he could focus on his own projects.
One night, Tusha was packing up his equipment, preparing to leave and find a place to sleep, when he suddenly heard a rush of chaotic footsteps in the hallway. Then came Groloka's voice, followed by the sound of a door being slammed open. He rushed out to see Marini's door wide open, and a stranger's back disappearing inside.
Entering the room, Tusha saw the stranger gripping Glocara by the throat, pushing her into the corner. As her back hit the wall, the man released his hold, and she collapsed to the ground, clutching her throat, blood running from her hand. The man seemed bewildered by his actions, his hands trembling as Tusha twisted them behind his back.
The man began thrashing wildly, trying to break free. He twisted his head toward Tusha, straining so violently it seemed like he might snap his own neck. His jaw gaped open, tongue rubbing against his teeth, his eyes rolling back. Overdosed on "dinner," lost entirely to manic hallucinations, Tusha thought. He was as frail as a ghoul, yet his movements were fierce and wild, his body thrashing as if his muscles and bones were not his own, but weapons to be smashed and broken.
A harder approach was needed. Tusha twisted the man's arms and slammed his head against the wall. By the third strike, Glocara covered her ears, and a smear of blood stained the wall. Tusha dragged the now limp man to an empty room, bound him to a bed, and grabbed a handful of his homemade herbs, squeezing them until the juices dripped under the man's nose. Minutes later, the crazed man finally calmed down and fell into a deep sleep. After quickly tending to his head wound, Tusha returned to Mareni's room.
Glocara was still sitting in the corner, staring blankly at the floor. Tusha crouched down to examine her bleeding hand.
"Disinfect it. That man bit you."
She nodded, unsteadily getting to her feet. After checking on Mareni and confirming she was unharmed, she left the room and returned to her own quarters.
As she tended to her wound, Tusha stood behind her.
"Miss Glocara, you know people like that are dangerous. Why didn't you call for me?"
"Why should I call you?"
"Look at you. There's a row of bite marks on your hand, and the skin on your neck is grazed. I could practically see your soul trembling. Oh, thank goodness I wasn't thirty seconds late."
"Before you came along, sticking your nose in, I did everything by myself."
"Maybe you were lucky until today. But I doubt this will be the last time, and you can't always rely on luck."
"My luck has never been good. And this isn't the first time I've dealt with someone like that… If I were always afraid, what would Mareni think? She always thought I was braver than her, but I'm not."
"I have no idea what's going on with Miss Mareni, who you care for every day. But I do know you should take better care of yourself, Miss Glocara. I don't mean to pry into your personal matters, but as your assistant, I think I have a right to know what's going on with you. You've been on edge, and that affects my work. Is it because of that man, Lassander?"
"What good would it do you to know?"
"Right, none at all. Why would a wandering troll care to share the troubles of a lady like you? But a little effort wouldn't hurt. No one wants to see you hurt yourself while handling corpses again or get attacked by another lunatic in the coming days. Those are probably the things that would worry Miss Mareni more."
"Whatever she thinks, I can only accept it." Glocara sat down, her knees stiffly pressed together. "Because I'm the one who caused her to end up like this. She's been working for me since she was thirteen, but I..."
"Is she that Mr. Lassander's daughter?"
"He hasn't acknowledged her for the past few years, and neither has Mareni. No one knows who her mother is… Lassander, after striking it rich four years ago and moving to the upper levels, abandoned her. Now that a cloth merchant wants to marry into his family, he's claiming he's been raising a well-bred daughter who can marry the merchant's son. Then he came here to demand her."
"Oh, what a despicable father."
"What I did was worse. If Lassander really took her back... she could at least live a proper life, instead of being stuck here with me, soaking in the smell of disinfectant all day. I thought it was for her own good, so I forced myself to let her go. But the girl didn't want to leave. I didn't want to waver, so I locked myself in the house and left her outside. Then, that man came… By the time I heard the commotion and ran out, she was already on the ground, and that blood-soaked man was sprawled beside her. The room was a mess. I picked up Mareni, and I knew right away what had happened… She had been forced to swallow a large amount of burned 'dinner' ashes. She's never opened her eyes since, but her breathing is real. She's still alive."
"Miss Glocara, this wasn't your fault. No one could predict how dangerous a madman can be."
"Is that how you trolls think? This isn't about whose fault it is. What matters is who got hurt. It wasn't Lassander, it wasn't the overdosed madman, and it certainly wasn't me. It's Mareni, lying in the next room, unable to move, eat, laugh, or speak. Don't you understand?"
Tusha understood, of course.
What he didn't understand was why he was so eager to know all of this. My employer's situation affects my work, which in turn affects my research... But he knew that reason alone wasn't convincing enough.
Taking the necromantic potion formula from his tribe wasn't his fault. What really mattered was who had suffered.