Even now, remembering his wife coughing up blood before collapsing unconscious was enough to make him want to hang this woman upside down.
He had restrained himself only because he knew such punishment would be excessive for a retainer who had faithfully served the Grand Ducal House her entire life.
Had it not been for his retainers repeatedly arguing that her talents were too valuable to waste and suggesting that, rather than expelling her, she be assigned to menial duties at the infirmary, he would have exiled her long ago.
Like a wild dog baring its teeth, he spoke coldly.
“Do you think making up for your mistake will be that easy?”
“Of course not. I would never dare dream of returning as Her Grace's personal healing mage.”
The woman hurriedly bowed, her face drained of color.
“I only... wish to serve as an assistant healer. If you would allow me to work under whoever is currently responsible for Her Grace's treatment and serve merely as an assistant, I swear I will devote myself to ensuring that nothing like before ever happens again.”
“I refuse. I have no intention of entrusting my wife to someone who has already committed a fatal mistake—”
Speaking rather harshly, Varkas suddenly fell silent.
Whatever the case, this woman was acknowledged as the finest pharmacologist in the East.
She had personally neutralized a monster's poison within a matter of days, something even high-ranking priests had been unable to accomplish.
If a problem ever arose that neither mages nor priests could solve, she might prove useful.
More importantly, he wasn't entirely comfortable leaving Talia solely in the care of healers from House Taren.
If someone from the Grand Ducal House remained by her side, they would be less likely to attempt anything underhanded.
Quickly organizing his thoughts, Varkas clicked his tongue.
“Very well. I'll allow you to return as an assistant healer.”
Relief briefly crossed the woman's face.
Watching her quietly, he added,
“However, if my wife refuses, you'll return to performing the lowest duties at the infirmary.”
“I understand.”
The woman's complexion darkened as she bowed her head.
She had most likely remembered Talia's venomous attitude toward her.
But easing Talia's wariness was not something he intended to involve himself in.
If she lacked even that much ability, then she could continue doing odd jobs at the infirmary as she had until now.
He turned away without another word.
In any case, he had already intended to hire additional healers to care for Talia.
Having the High Priest permanently stationed at Laedgo Castle might also be a good solution.
It would bend established rules somewhat, but if he offered to fund the expansion of the church building, the High Priest would be unlikely to refuse.
If he invited the clergy to reside within the castle under the pretext of providing accommodations while construction was underway, they would be able to employ divine magic whenever an emergency arose.
His thoughts racing furiously, Varkas finally released the breath he had been holding only after arriving at his bedchamber.
The heart that had never once faltered after riding nonstop for half a day was pounding rapidly.
Whenever it involved her, his body was always beyond his control.
Once, he had hated that sensation with every fiber of his being.
Whenever he was with her, it felt as though he were constantly battling himself.
He wanted to carve those dangerous eyes from his memory—the eyes that made him feel things he never wished to feel and desire things he never wanted.
When had he stopped thinking that way?
“I... I knew. I knew you would come to save me... I knew you would.”
The memory flashed through his mind.
He hurriedly forced it away.
He had the premonition that if he allowed himself to dwell on that moment, something inside him would be damaged beyond repair.
Driving the countless distracting thoughts from his mind, he grasped the doorknob and opened the door.
The moment he stepped inside, a rich fragrance filled his lungs.
Breathing in the scent that had gradually permeated his bedroom before he had even noticed, he crossed the warmly lit room.
As he approached the bed, he saw her curled into a small ball beneath the blankets.
Setting the tray on the nearby shelf, he sat beside the bed.
He gently placed the back of his hand against her flushed cheek.
A mild warmth greeted his skin.
Was this, too, a normal symptom in a woman carrying a child?
As he studied her complexion with worried eyes, her long, drooping eyelashes slowly lifted.