10.3. Chapter ten (3)

Without her in the room, the anger does not stay. Anger has no place in me right now. I have to deal with this and dealing needs observation and level head.

Breathe.

Due to the hasty nature of her departure, the staff from my wings stream in what perhaps concern for me only to see the one needing tending to be someone else entirely different. "What-"

"Sasha, get Doctor Keller here and tell him he's treating liquid burn wounds," I cut with an order before Ina can speak, "and brief him on the way here."

"Will do, miss."

"Sonya, bring him to my bathroom. He needs rinsing under the cold water. Make sure to be careful when you undress him in case the clothes themselves chafe–"

"I'm fine."

"That is not a suggestion." I refute the guy who is clearly not fine, seeing the reddening skin around his nape that's definitely due to the heat. "Winnie, you are free to drag him since he's not cooperating."

It's so nice to see that it only takes the blond one look at Winnie rolling her sleeves for him to cooperate with Sonya lending him a hand.

"And Ina," I address the only person left that I'm familiar with, the girl's green eyes sparkle as she stands up straight with the most serious expression I've ever seen on her, before my gaze turns to the accursed teapot that defies logic and tacks another order. "Unheat the teapot and the kettle, then go fetch something to clean this mess."

"On it!"

I can only watch from the side as the girl makes sense of my vague order, tinkering with the broken teapot by pulling out the crystal on the lid and the kettle's holder, putting what I had assumed to be ornamental gems on the trolley before she runs outside to fetch for cleaning supplies.

Finding myself alone, finally, out of the immediate danger, I can't help but collapse on the settee by the bed while trying to make sense of things.

Magic? Magic crystals?? I can't remember if those were in the original book or not and that's not good. 

I have always assumed that the anachronistic elements in this world like the lamp or the shower can be simply explained as the industrial revolution coming early to this world, which clearly isn't the case here. My memory of the pages is still vivid, due to my constant repetition of the story since I can't record it on paper, thus I'm sure that there hasn't been any mention of magic in it!!!

There can't be.. right? This story is mystery, romance, adventure; but not magic. My memory isn't that flawed to miss such an obvious tag of the book…

"Unless."

Unless I'm being influenced by Carlyanne's body. Carlyanne, who for some reason is missing most of her childhood memories, whose most of the contextual interactions between members of her own family remain a foggy block that I cannot access no matter the method. The girl whose constant emotions are so quick to shift into anger no matter what the situation, finding the best annoyances out of the smallest things….

If that's the case, then no memory of mine will remain safe. One day, I'm going to forget them whether I like it or not. How far does the reach go? Will I forget everything, eventually??? Will I—

Breathe. Not the time right now. Later. Breathe.

Just in time while I'm struggling to shed away the inferno that is unwelcome rage, my doors are once again opened (without knocking) to make way for the entering Doctor Keller, who looks just as disheveled as yesterday. His dull blue eyes scan the room rapidly and immediately land on me when he's not seeing the victim, "Where is he?"

"In my bathroom, being rinsed by cold water." I point with my eyes and wince at how dry my throat feels right now.

"Good, good," Doctor Keller sighs as he makes a beeline straight to the bathroom following my line of sight, "I knew that damned teapot is going to get someone…"

I watch as the doctor mutters as he disappears behind the dividing door, looking over to Sasha and the newly arriving Ina and some other girls carrying cleaning supplies, getting to work as they enter. I can only watch as they clean up the mess, resisting the urge to go and help because I'm more likely to stab myself with the broken shards of the teapot than actually be helpful.

It's hard to fight against the medicated drowsiness, now that the shot of adrenaline wanes as I calm myself down from the panic, but I manage with the sole thought of ensuring that Sieghart doesn't get any lasting injuries out of this.

All that's left to do is to wait.

Waiting, I'm good at waiting. It's a good thing, to wait, since I can calm myself down further and not think about the implications in a doom-mongering way. I wait for what feels like hours until the door to the bedroom opens again, Doctor Keller being the first to come out, "Good decision to get him under the water fast, it could've been worse."

The way his eyes find mine immediately takes away all doubt that I'm the one he's talking to, though I have no idea why his gaze is so intense all of a sudden. Does he think I'm the one to throw hot fucking water on the guy's back?? That's rude! 

"I didn't do it."

"I know! Ma'am Sasha has briefed me on the way here."

Then why are you still glaring at me?! Quick, deploy topic change! "How is he?"

"If his wound is taken care of properly, he'll manage."

Sieghart chose that moment to enter the room, draped with my fluffy bathrobe that hangs around his fucking knee due to our height difference as water drips from jaws and nape, making a path on his open chest, trailing downward until it touches the robe and gets absorbed. The little bits of droplets that cling stubbornly on his eyelashes sparkle almost like little specks of gem dust that make the man's blue eyes emit a mysterious, alluring vibe.

Not only that, but this man. This man! Underneath all that servant uniform lies a very built body! Why the hell is his forearm the size of my thigh, I can't tell, but it sure looks like he's been putting those extra muscles to good use considering all the veins popping around the two limbs. Hell, even what I can see of his calves shows that he's not skipping leg day either!

The servant uniform hid so much of this that I find myself momentarily stunned speechless by the sheer surprise, that I thought for a single second, I had returned to my old world in the middle of a model photo shoot.

This sight… this sight would get soooo many fan art when readers get to read this, probably driving all those die-hard Sieghart stans to feed themselves for the next half a year with just the word imagery alone (since those guys can feed themselves off nothing but a mention in a dialogue) but alas, I can only regretfully see this view without the ability to share it.

"Thank you for your kindness, miss. I'm most indebted to your grace and quick thinking that saved me from further injuries."

And the man.

Fucking.

Kneels.

Fuck, I don't save you to get this! This is resetting the groveling counter to 0 days again!!! Argh, I was doing so well too!!! Also, you're injured, why the hell are you kneeling?! Isn't it fucking painful to move right now!??? Get the fuck up right now!!!

"Get up! The bandages are going to dig, you fool!"

It feels like Doctor Keller reads my mind as he's shouting at this absurd display in my stead, which makes the stuffy feeling from my internal wailing infinitely better on the spot. I knew you have some sense sir, I'll count on you!

"The miss is not so dumb to demand piety from a sick person, get up!"

Hey! You don't have to insult me to get him to move, you old man! I'm taking back the praise!!!

In any case, I can't exactly glare at the doctor since that'd prove his assurance false, so I just look at Sieghart while mustering all the exhaustion I feel from this situation to my words. "Get up. Listen to the poor doctor, he's going to lose more hair if you stay down."

"Who's going to?!"

"You, if you're all insistent on staying here any longer," I try my best to not sigh and dig further into the not-very comfortable seat and grit through the newly forming wave of exhaustion, "Get him to your office, treat him properly, and get out of my room now before I sleep whilst sitting up."

The staff stiffens up for a split second, but did as they're told to and gave me a light bow as they prepared the room for my usual naptime, closing the curtains and all the unimportant doors. Sinking the bedroom into a muted, artificial darkness.

One by one they leave the room, the ordinary staff carrying the cleaning tools and filtering out in a neat line, looking eager to vacate themselves out of the room unlike Sieghart, who for some reason, waits to be the last to leave alongside the doctor.

There's a small part of me that wants to call out to him, to thank the man for blocking that, but I find my mouth stuffy, dry, with the sensation of cotton all around the tongue. The issue around memories still nags on the back of my head like a thorny nail, alongside the very real consequences of acting out of character too much.

Suffering has never been the thing I deal with the best. Suffering seems to be the only way this body knew how to communicate, the only language it knew. And thus, I kept my silence until I'm once again, alone.

With that, I stand up, crawl on the bed, and lie down with my left hand over my temple, its weight grounding in a way that reminds me of my after-hour work exhaustion in a different world. Of the problems caused by others that I have to fix, without any acknowledgment or pride. The lingering scent of the floral tea waft by, what remains of a moment missed by Joanne to find out about my true identity, flashing memories pulls the sight of a midnight taxi drive home that I don't want to forget.

Fuck. I don't want to forget. I won't forget.

"One day," I whisper into the air, to the ghost that probably never was, and to myself. "-I'm going to know everything I need to know about you."

So I'll have to remember in your stead.

"It's going to happen, among all the other things, Carlyanne, but it will happen, whether you like it or not. I'm going to make it happen."

Sleep comes. Not easily, but it comes. My words and emotions sink into the deep dark of slumber once more until the next time I have to play the role.

Until then, I bid myself a restful one. Au mimir.