DTBTHS Chapter 7

When the aftereffects subsided enough that she could walk on her own, her father entered with a physician.

'How is the young lady?'

'She's recovering reasonably well.'

The Duke asked, and the physician who had examined her condition answered. The Duke smiled with satisfaction.

'Then we can resume lessons again.'

To the young her, a physician was someone who heralded the resumption of special lessons.

Ariadne hated that green robe terribly.

'Think of the doctors you saw in your past life. It's just a robe with a similar meaning, only slightly different in color and shape.'

No matter how earnestly she tried to convince herself, the fear wouldn't diminish.

Without realizing it, she reached out and grabbed the hem of Lucy's skirt beside her.

Still seated, she tried to retreat backward and hide behind the maid.

The physician, seeing her reaction, stopped mid-approach and hesitated. The Margrave's eyebrows twitched where he stood by the door.

"Miss?"

Lucy looked back at her with widened eyes.

Only then did reason return to Ariadne, and she released Lucy's clothing.

"S-sorry."

"It's all right. That's the physician. She's someone who will make sure you don't hurt."

Lucy spoke kindly.

I know. That's why I did it.

If I don't hurt, the special lessons start again.

Instead of saying so, Ariadne nodded silently.

The physician, who had been observing her closely, approached again and sat beside her.

"Hello, miss. I'm Zailyn Brown, the Weaver family's attending physician. Please call me Zailyn."

The voice was cheerful. Ariadne answered a beat late, and even then stammering.

"...A-Ariadne Eldier."

This time it wasn't because of trauma, but because of what the physician had introduced herself as.

'The Weaver family's attending physician—that means this is the Margravate of Weaver?'

She was stunned. Weaver.

The margrave family that guarded the northern frontier of the Abivhelle Kingdom.

Archmage Solan Garcia's wife had been the previous margrave, and the current margrave was their eldest son.

In other words, this was her maternal family's home.

'It would have taken at least over a week to get here from Eldier in the kingdom's central region.'

Before the Demon Realm's invasion, it would have been quick thanks to trains or teleportation magic, but that was no longer possible.

Even the communication methods that had been active a hundred years ago were almost entirely severed; these days, a messenger had to deliver letters in person to send news to distant places.

Even then, messengers dying en route wasn't uncommon.

Development means the impossible becoming possible.

Conversely, this world where the possible was becoming impossible was certainly in the process of destruction.

So, roughly estimating: a week of travel, three days bedridden.

That meant she'd been unconscious for at least ten days.

"How long... was I unconscious?"

"A little over ten days."

It matched her estimate, yet somehow she couldn't believe it. The feeling was dizzying.

Seeing her expression, Zailyn spoke gently.

"Be careful when you move for a while. You've been lying down for so long that your body won't have much strength."

When the speechless Ariadne nodded slightly, the physician pulled several instruments from inside the robe.

"May I run a few tests for a moment, miss?"

"Yes."

Ariadne rolled up her sleeve and extended her arm with practiced ease. Her left arm. The physician's eyes narrowed slightly more.

"You're right-handed?"

"Yes? Yes."

"I see. This will be over quickly."

While Zailyn conducted the examination, Ariadne held her fuzzy head and wrung out memories.

'I was ill for so long. I didn't make some mistake with the Archmage during that time, did I?'

It wasn't entirely fruitless. Fragments of memory came back.

The sensation of a cold, cooled cloth touching her feverish forehead.

Hands clicking their tongue while tucking her blanket back in.

A voice snapping at the coachman to hurry.

Even vomiting the rice porridge that had been spooned to her one mouthful at a time all over the Archmage's front.

'Good grief.'

Ariadne pressed her forehead. When she should be making herself look as good as possible, what kind of burden was all this?

'I suppose my tension released once I left Eldier.'

She hadn't been particularly robust from birth, and having endured torture disguised as lessons continuously, the accumulated stress must have been considerable.

'My health is probably in bad shape too.'

As if confirming her prediction, the examining physician's expression grew shadowed.

"What on earth did they do to make a child's body..."

Zailyn ground her teeth while muttering quietly, then noticed Ariadne's anxious gaze and quickly manufactured a bright expression.

"All done, miss."

She gathered her instruments and rose as quickly as possible.

She'd felt the young lady continuing to tense because of her presence.

"If you rest well from now on, you'll be up and about in no time. Then I'll see you again tomorrow."

Greeting her and leaving, Zailyn tugged the Margrave's sleeve.

Realizing the physician had something to say, the Margrave followed into the corridor and quietly closed the door.

Zailyn lowered her voice.

"Did you see it?"

"See what?"

"The young lady hid from me. It's not stranger anxiety. She reacted to the robe. She's afraid of physicians."

"I saw that. She's a frail child, so perhaps that's why. Gloria also disliked physicians when she was young..."

"That's not it."

The physician cut off his words while grimacing. She seemed to have no room left for courtesy toward her employer because of her anger.

"That wasn't a reaction to bitter medicine or frightening treatment procedures. I've seen plenty of children like that. The young lady has a rather different kind of trauma."

"Different how?"

"You saw it yourself. She looked like a prisoner awaiting a death sentence."

"Moreover, she's right-handed but extended her left arm as if it were natural. That means she's never shown those wounds on her right arm to a physician. Never received treatment for them either, of course."

Deep lines formed between the Margrave's brows. Zailyn sighed and continued.

"She may have been taught to hide the wounds entirely. You understand what that means, don't you?"

"They sealed her lips. Who would dare do such things to the Eldier young lady..."

"Isn't it obvious? Could His Grace the Duke have been unaware of his daughter's condition? Until it reached that state? If he didn't know, that's remarkable in several ways too."

The Margrave didn't restrain the physician's sarcastic tone. His head throbbed.

"He couldn't have been unaware."

"No, of course he knew."

"Either he turned a blind eye after seeing it, or he led it directly. One or the other. But why on earth would the Duke?"

"That's what I'm most curious about. What on earth could make him do such things to his young daughter?"

"Too severe for discipline."

"Discipline? You said the young lady is seven, right? I'd believe five. How can preventing a child from even growing properly be discipline? Whatever the intent, it's abuse."

Abuse. It was something he'd never even imagined. The Margrave rubbed his mouth with a weary hand.

When his youngest sister said she would marry the Duke of Eldier, he hadn't strongly opposed her.

Franz Eldier himself wasn't a particularly outstanding individual.

Only the family name mattered. But that family was the Eldier ducal house, the kingdom's foremost prestigious lineage.

Moreover, his appearance was excellent, and for a great noble of that rank, his character wasn't bad either.

'I thought he was a good match. I thought Gloria would live well with someone like that...'

He couldn't contact her directly because of their father's stubbornness. As a margrave whose duty was guarding the border, it was difficult to participate in the capital's social circles.

Still, he hadn't lived with his ears closed. He'd consistently heard news of his younger sister.

In all that news, Gloria appeared to be living only in wealth and happiness.

The Duke had built a substantial new detached residence exclusively for the Duchess, and everything acquired for the Duchess was always of the highest quality.

Even at official functions, he showed only devoted care for his wife. Rumors of him being an uxorious husband abounded.

That attitude continued just as steadily toward his only daughter.

The Eldier young lady, said to be as lovely as a fairy, the very image of the beautiful Duke.

Even without particular inquiry, rumors about the young lady occasionally reached him.

Rumors that the Duke had allocated an enormous budget for his daughter, that he wore a full smile and went on and on boasting whenever he spoke of his daughter.

"...Hard to believe. The rumors that the Duke doted on his daughter were so widespread."

"Whatever the rumors, my professional opinion is that it's almost certain Duke Eldier abused his only daughter."

The Margrave pressed his forehead, feeling dizzy.

Zailyn, who had been watching him silently, added with a weary expression.

"Margrave, frankly, 'abuse' is putting it mildly."

The Margrave recalled the red wounds tangled like a net across the pale young child's forearm.

When he'd received the maid's report and confirmed those wounds himself, he'd been shocked.

He'd seen worse wounds on battlefields, but wounds on a child who weighed next to nothing rather than a soldier—the intensity of the shock was different.

"Is the child's condition very serious?"

"What's inside is worse than what shows. It looks like her internal organs were damaged and recovered repeatedly. At least ten times."

"Every time I examine the young lady, I feel horrified. Imagining what pain that small body must have endured..."

The speechless Margrave let out a low groan. The physician bit her lip and added.

"It's my first time seeing a child only seven years old this thoroughly broken. What's more chilling is that there are no external injuries except on her right arm."

"Could it be from some rare disease, or accidental exposure to the Taint..."

"This is absolutely not a disease. And it's not an accident either..."

Zailyn's eyes changed slightly as she retorted irritably.

"...Taint, the Taint—that's a possibility. Poisons that destroy the whole body like that aren't common. But if it was the Taint, she should have died instantly, so how..."

The physician, who had fallen into academic curiosity, soon shook her head.

"In any case, this absolutely couldn't happen from an accidental incident or illness. Someone deliberately repeated such acts."

The Margrave looked at empty air with a distant feeling, then asked heavily.

"Is complete recovery possible?"