Chapter 18
What Ezekiel hoped for from Dr. Briman’s experiment was perfectly clear. He possessed the temperament of a gambler ready to stake everything on one desperate throw. Rose, on the other hand, could not foresee results as extreme as Ezekiel wished for.
They each imagined different possibilities for the future, and no one knew what conclusion would come.
Rose gathered herself after her heart had wavered for a moment.
How treacherous the human heart was. She had come here wishing to atone, and yet she was already calculating every possibility over a future that had not even happened.
Even though there was no reason to do so yet.
Don’t rush.
Rose repeated the words under her breath.
Don’t think about too many things, or things too far away.
That’s not why you came here.
This man is ill. He is someone who needs help. He is someone who must struggle with all his strength just to live through a single day.
So for now, do what must be done.
“……I understand your wishes, Major.”
Once Ezekiel firmly declared that he would not hold him responsible, Dr. Briman could no longer refuse.
“Will the experiment begin at once?”
“No. First, we must examine your lifestyle habits and health condition. In long-term treatment, the greatest issue tends to be stamina. I have often seen patients give up because they could not endure to the end. Of course, you have such a well-trained body, Major, that there should be no need for concern.”
As he listed the usual preliminary cautions, Dr. Briman swiftly looked Ezekiel over and assessed him. A soldier who had once ridden on horseback across every corner of Astrie was now confined to a mansion, and so he had lost muscle and flesh, his sickly pallor making him look haggard. Even so, his naturally strong constitution had not gone anywhere. Above all, the man possessed the mental fortitude that had endured a long war. If the experiment failed, then it would fail—but his patience and physical strength would not be the first things to wear out and collapse.
“There shouldn’t be any problem starting right away.”
Ezekiel also showed his confidence.
“Wait a moment, Doctor.”
But in the brief interval after his words ended, while he waited for the other man’s response, a quiet voice slipped in.
“You said just now that lifestyle habits are important.”
It was Rose.
“Then shouldn’t he stop drinking and taking medicine?”
She looked directly at Dr. Briman, seeking his agreement. Dr. Briman turned to Rose with a bewildered expression and asked in return.
“That would be best. Is there something he takes regularly?”
Dr. Briman gave precisely the answer Rose had hoped for. Rose quickly nodded.
“He takes wine and laudanum every day.”
She had no intention of letting this opportunity slip by. Among those who had a say in Ezekiel’s health, Dr. Briman was the most learned in medicine. If the doctor advised him to quit both alcohol and medicine, then Ezekiel and Mrs. Serva would have no choice but to comply.
Even looking back on it made her shudder. The day Ezekiel had sat staring into empty air with unfocused eyes, wandering through a world of ghosts, while she had looked at him and trembled in helpless fear, not knowing whether his symptoms meant he was possessed or suffering delirium.
It had been frightening. Rose never wanted to watch the man gradually break down like that.
“What problem is there with painkillers? They aren’t poison. Aren’t alcohol and laudanum common prescriptions from physicians? If they were things I shouldn’t take, they wouldn’t have prescribed them in the first place. Isn’t that right, Doctor?”
At the abrupt interference, Ezekiel furrowed his brow.
In truth, laudanum was a famous painkiller, needless to say, and alcohol was also used as emergency treatment when necessary. Having a startled person drink a glass or two to calm them was so common that most household cupboards contained one or two bottles of brandy.
Alcohol was also an essential supply in the army. For soldiers who had to endure the cold with nothing but their bodies, it served as a means of raising body temperature, and it was also useful as a disinfectant. Ezekiel, too, had often poured alcohol over wounds, bound them roughly with cloth, and continued fighting.
“I heard that in the past, even when you were wounded, you never touched alcohol or painkillers at all.”
Rose objected again.
“Because back then I didn’t have the leisure to lie around drugged. When you don’t know when or where a battle might break out, it’s dereliction of duty for a commander to comfortably take to his bed.”
“But you compared this experiment to a battle as well, Major.”
In truth, a metaphor was only a metaphor. Rose knew her logic was forced. Nor was it that she could not understand at all why Ezekiel had fallen into alcohol and opium.
Even if it was only a hallucination, how could he resist the temptation of escaping the distant darkness and being able to see? Though it had been a frightening sight to others, for him it must have been a miraculous moment.
Only after observing and thinking it over again and again did Rose barely manage to fathom Ezekiel’s feelings. But understanding and sympathizing were separate from agreeing. In the eyes of those who knew nothing of his circumstances, his behavior would seem no different from that of any other lunatic. Moreover, just by looking at his face, which grew more worn by the day, it was clear that this was far from a healthy habit.
The man himself could not be entirely unaware that his body was deteriorating. Had he not once been famous for his thorough self-discipline? It was only that he must have calculated that what he gained was greater than what he lost, and thus become addicted.
That was why she felt it all the more keenly. With only a moderate justification, she would not be able to take the world of hallucinations away from him.
In other words, the person Rose had to win over was not Ezekiel, but Dr. Briman.
“If it were merely one or two drinks from time to time, it would not be a problem, but every day is excessive. For now, it would be best for you to stop. If my prescription mixes with the effects of your existing medicines, the treatment may weaken, or perhaps even produce the opposite effect.”
Dr. Briman’s conclusion was clear. Rose felt a quiet relief.
“Fine. I’ll stop.”
It was just as she had expected. The moment he heard that the drug’s efficacy might be affected, he agreed without a second word, without the slightest hesitation. The speed with which he judged and decided was almost startling.
But it was still too early to set down all her unease. Rose, who had followed Dr. Briman out to see him off, glanced sideways toward the drawing room. In the past, the moment a physician’s examination ended, Ezekiel would have returned to his bedroom and sunk into his own world. Today, however, because alcohol and medicine had been forbidden, he had not yet left the drawing room.
Even so, afraid that someone might overhear, Rose lowered her voice and stopped Dr. Briman.
“Doctor. Could I speak with you for a moment?”
❖ ❖ ❖
In the middle of the night, the sound of glass shattering one after another jolted her awake. Startled by the piercing crashes that rang in her ears, Rose opened her eyes and immediately came fully to her senses.
Without even the time to mind her appearance, she rushed into Ezekiel’s bedroom.
“Major? What’s wrong?”
The moment she entered the room, she nearly screamed. Nightlight streaming in through the adjoining room faintly illuminated the bedroom, now a mess of sleeping tea soaking the floor and walls and shards of broken glass.
The sleeping tea was so dark in color that, at a glance, the bedroom looked exactly like a crime scene drenched in blood. If not for the medicinal herbal scent of the sleeping tea wafting from every direction, a fainthearted person would have fainted on the spot.
Rose carefully picked her way around the glass shards and approached Ezekiel.
The shape of the man lurking on the bed was as large as a beast. Even from his dimly visible silhouette alone, she could sense the tension in his muscles, drawn taut to the breaking point.
At a glance, there was something deeply ominous about him. The memory of the day she had first entered his bedroom came to mind, and Rose flinched inwardly. There was something about the man that was somewhat similar to that day.
The pain that threw the senses into disorder, the shoulders heaving fiercely as he dragged in rasping breaths, even the tightly honed, dangerous atmosphere.
She froze where she stood.
“Ro……se.”
Somehow, Ezekiel noticed Rose’s presence. His terribly cracked voice called her.
“……Yes, I’m here.”
“Bring me a cord.”
“Pardon?”
“I said bring me a cord, Rose!”
His voice scraped through his throat, mingled thickly with ragged breaths.
Would it feel like this to come face-to-face with a wild wolf in the mountains, one vicious and bristling with poison?
He was terrifying. The reason her spirit was oppressed just by facing him was surely because, no matter how one looked at him, he was not in a normal state. Rose clenched her hands tightly to keep from trembling. First, she had to check his condition.
“Major, are you all right?”
“Tie me up. Hurry!”
“Calm…… please calm down.”
“I can’t control it. ……Damn it!”
All at once, a shout laced with profanity rang out chillingly. At the echo that struck her ears, her heart began pounding on its own.