Chapter 24
As she had done many times before, Irene repeated her point. Each time, Divoa responded with a gentle smile and a playful joke.
“When an enemy’s arrow hits me, the only thing Dr. Flich can do is pray. Honestly, I’d rather not listen to your prayers as I head to the afterlife.”
“If my prayers don’t suit you, perhaps you should call for a barber instead. A barber might only deal with boils and cuts, but they’d surely be better than her. Her treating your wounds? That’s the best joke I’ve heard.”
Miguel forced out a laugh, his cheeks trembling as he did so.
“Haha. She’ll be lucky not to faint at the sight of blood. Look at her thin wrists—can she even hold scissors properly?”
Irene lifted her head and met Miguel’s mocking gaze without flinching.
This was easier to handle. She was used to hostile stares. They felt more natural than friendly ones. Irene let out a small sigh of relief, her shoulders relaxing slightly.
And then.
“Dr. Flich, are you questioning my judgment?”
Divoa’s tone wasn’t angry. His voice was slower than usual, almost lazy, as though he were half-asleep.
But Adolph’s expression grew tense, and even Javier, who had appeared indifferent, started watching closely, like a sailor waiting for a storm.
“Your Grace, that’s not what I—”
“Haha, I was joking. You made a joke, so I thought I’d try one myself. Honestly, it’s hard to joke around when people turn pale at every word.”
As Divoa looked away, seemingly letting the matter drop, he suddenly turned his attention back to Miguel.
“Oh, by the way, you don’t need to worry about whether Dr. Rios can handle scissors. I’ve seen her work with my own eyes. Not just scissors, but saws and hammers as well. You should’ve seen her cut through a person’s ribcage by herself—the edges were incredibly smooth.”
“Saws and hammers…?”
“She’s skilled enough to open your ribcage in one go.”
“…I see.”
Miguel’s face soured as he fell silent. As a nobleman and a proud physician, he looked down on manual work like cutting bones and stitching wounds, tasks he considered suitable only for brutish barbers.
Mark my words. She won’t last long. She’ll be in tears and running away in no time.
Though Miguel glared at Irene, she was lost in her own thoughts, unaware of his scornful gaze.
Her head tilted slightly as she observed Divoa, who appeared to be smiling. But for some reason, he seemed angry with her.
She must’ve been mistaken. She wasn’t good at reading emotions.
Sure enough, Divoa spoke kindly, his tone as gentle as ever.
“I hope you don’t forget that I’m the one who brought Dr. Rios here, Dr. Flich.”
“…Of course, Your Grace.”
Miguel Flich bowed his head. Divoa, still smiling, turned to Irene.
As expected, Divoa wasn’t angry. His pleasant demeanor proved it.
“You must be tired from your journey. I apologize for keeping you. Go and get some rest now. Show Dr. Rios to her room.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” Mia responded politely.
Divoa gestured toward the butler.
“Adolph.”
“Yes, Your Grace?”
“Dr. Rios will need a few dresses. Find a skilled seamstress who works quickly.”
“Understood, Your Grace.”
Miguel’s brows furrowed again. Dresses as gifts from the duke, right after her arrival? It was unheard of.
How skilled is she for the duke to care this much? Or does he have some other reason?
While Miguel speculated, Mia smiled warmly at Irene.
“Please follow me, Dr. Rios. I’ll take you to your room.”
“…”
“The room has been cleaned thoroughly. I hope it’s to your liking.”
Irene bowed slightly toward Divoa before following Mia toward the annex.
As Irene disappeared from view, Divoa finally moved, his steps calm and deliberate.
The once-slumbering castle seemed to awaken.
“Hmm.”
Irene let out a short hum as she looked around with detached eyes.
Anyone observing her might not have noticed the faint trace of confusion in her blue gaze.
She thought back to her room, which she had seen for the first time moments ago. It was much better than she had expected.
It was four times the size of her dormitory room, with a clean bed and even a seemingly unnecessary vanity.
As she considered using the vanity as a desk, Mia led her to an adjacent room.
—This is…
For once, Irene was at a loss for words, clearly moved.
Mia smiled proudly, pleased with the room she had prepared.
“The Duke sent word to prepare an office for you, Dr. Rios. If you need anything beyond the desk and bookshelves, let me know. Oh, and the servants will organize your books today.”
One wall was lined with tall shelves, and there was a mahogany desk, a dark carpet, and matching curtains.
It looked more like a professor’s study or the Rios Baron’s library than a simple office. In fact, it was better than anything she’d ever had.
She had never dreamed of having such a space, let alone owning one. She had always studied on cramped desks in dormitories or crouched in attic corners with her books.
So Irene couldn’t hide the tremor in her voice.
“Is this really my room?”
“Please feel free to speak casually, Dr. Rios. You’re the Duke’s physician, after all.”
“Oh.”
After a brief pause, Irene asked again.
“Is this room…really mine?”
Mia tilted her head slightly at Irene’s odd tone before breaking into a bright smile.
“Of course.”
Without realizing it, Irene avoided Mia’s gaze.
She wasn’t used to kindness. It felt itchy and uncomfortable, like wearing a wool sweater against bare skin.
Snapping out of her thoughts, Irene brushed her cheek lightly, as if Mia’s gaze still lingered on her.
She turned her attention forward again, scanning the tall fir trees that surrounded her.
The real problem had started after.
Despite the servants piling books in her office and Mia offering to help, Irene had declined.
Even as Mia stood by the door, looking eager to assist, Irene had firmly said,
“I’ll handle it myself.”
Mia found it puzzling. A noblewoman like Irene must have never unpacked her own belongings before, let alone organized mountains of books.
Still, when Irene quickly and efficiently began sorting the books, Mia could only step back, impressed by the speed and precision of her work.
“Then,” Mia eventually said, giving in.
“Dinner is at 7. The Duke has invited you to join him, so I’ll come to escort you.”
Distracted by her task, Irene paused for a moment, processing Mia’s words.
Dinner. With the Duke. At 7.
Mia’s cheerful smile made Irene flinch slightly, though her expression remained calm.
“No need. I’ll go there myself.”
Mia looked a bit disappointed but nodded.
“Alright, Dr. Rios. Be at the main building by 7. I’ll wait for you at the entrance since you might not know the way to the dining hall.”
“Got it.”
Irene responded confidently, confident she wouldn’t get lost.
“Nothing to worry about.”
Yet now, standing in the middle of a fir grove at exactly 7, she sighed as she checked her old pocket watch.
“I left 15 minutes early just in case.”
So why, instead of the main building, was she staring at trees?
