Episode 17
Helen suffered from a severe fever. There was no way to know whether going out to the city with Rosie yesterday had been the cause, or whether visiting the imperial palace had made her fall ill.
Early in the morning, a maid who had gone to wake Helen discovered her burning with fever, moaning in pain. She immediately informed the Countess of her condition, and the Countess called for James, a doctor and her husband's close friend.
While James was examining Helen, the Countess grew increasingly anxious. The Emperor would arrive soon. Yesterday, the Emperor had personally visited the Count's estate, and after a private audience with Helen, he had left word with the Countess before departing that he would return today. The Emperor did not make empty promises, so he would certainly come.
As the examination dragged on, the Countess could no longer contain herself and asked,
"James, is Helen in very poor condition?"
"My lady, it is an illness from which she will recover after a few days' rest."
"That won't do!"
When the anxious Countess snapped and shouted, it was only natural for James, the Count's close friend, to be startled. But the one even more surprised was the Countess herself.
Soon, the imperial carriage would arrive within a few hours. But if Helen's condition failed to improve quickly, the imperial carriage would depart at once.
What a heaven-sent opportunity this was!
The Countess bit her lower lip. She ought to apologize first for bewildering her husband's friend, but her mind was filled with nothing but the Emperor's visit—a visit directly tied to her family's fortune and honor.
"So… yes, please prescribe some medicine. She only needs to look well for a very brief moment. You can do that, can't you, James?"
The Countess clutched James's sleeve and pleaded, pressed for time. He was a renowned doctor in the capital, and since he came from a family that had produced imperial physicians for generations, she had decided to trust him.
But James removed the Countess's hand from his sleeve and spoke firmly.
"I understand your feelings, my lady, but the best medicine I can prescribe for Helen is rest."
"James…"
"My lady."
James furrowed his brow. He was a distinguished doctor, but before that, he was a human being. He was also a husband to a beloved wife, and a father to children he loved more than life itself.
To the Countess, Helen was not her flesh and blood, yet legally she was her daughter. Was one a parent only after carrying a child in one's womb for a full ten months and giving birth?
At the very least, if one were a parent, one ought to beg for the child's life, willing to use any medicine. Regardless of what illness Helen suffered from or how severe her condition.
"I hear that His Majesty the Emperor is coming to see Helen. If her illness were to spread to His Majesty, it would be a grave matter."
"Speaking as the Count's friend, and with sincere concern for House Platini, I urge you to make the right judgment for the sake of your family's prosperity."
James felt he had a general idea of how Helen had lived all this time. Or rather, judging by the words and actions the Countess was showing now, it would be more accurate to say he had realized it, but either way, that was the truth.
That Helen had just returned from Hexilof was known to everyone residing in this mansion. When he had heard this from someone else, he had wondered why they had only called for him now, but that question was quickly resolved.
That small child had already reached marriageable age.
"If Helen were my daughter, I would first inform the palace of this matter. So that His Majesty does not make a wasted trip."
"James…"
"And then, I would look after my daughter's health."
James turned and took Helen's burning hand. The hand he had held exactly once so long ago had grown much larger, but this child was still young. There had been many opportunities to give the love she had been denied to a child who grew up without proper parental affection, yet this child's parents had not given her love then, and they were not giving her love now.
"I examined Helen as a physician and gave my assessment. I will have the medicine delivered through someone else, but let me be clear: what Helen needs most right now is rest and stability."
* Sibylo
Six hours had passed since Doctor James packed his belongings and left the mansion. It was well past noon, yet Helen showed no signs of improvement. They had given her the medicine James sent immediately after his departure, but it provided only temporary relief. The fever, which had seemed to subside briefly, quickly flared up again.
Thinking the fever might break by the time the Emperor arrived, they had left Helen's bedroom door wide open and assigned several servants to nurse her with utmost care.
The imperial carriage had not yet arrived. The very fact that she should consider this a fortunate thing made the Countess tremble with rage. She paced the corridor and glanced toward Helen's bedroom.
Skipping breakfast was one thing, but to miss lunch as well. At this rate, she couldn't even be given more medicine.
"Who does she take after to be so frail?"
Who did she take after, indeed. If she resembled her father, there was no way she would be so frail. The Count occasionally caught colds, but he always recovered quickly. Therefore, that weak and ill-tempered child must surely take after her birth mother. The Countess had never seen the birth mother who had died shortly after childbirth, but she was certain of it.
The Countess's connection to Count Platini had begun after Helen's birth mother died.
That said, once she set foot in the Platini mansion, she had heard plenty of stories about the birth mother. That she had liked to wear her red hair long, just like Helen's, and that she had possessed remarkable beauty.
Tsk—
Just as the sound of the Countess clicking her tongue faded into the empty hallway, Rosie came up the stairs and called out to her with a bright face.
"Mother."
The Countess strode quickly toward Rosie, who had just come up. She seized Rosie's shoulders with a fierce expression.
"Rosie! I told you not to come up because the illness might be contagious."
"…"
Rosie felt warmth in her mother's hands on her shoulders. It was a mother's heart, worrying for her child.
"You're worried about me, aren't you?"
"Of course! Who would I worry about if not my own daughter?"
A mother who worries about her daughter. This should be a given, and yet…
Rosie felt like shaking off the Countess's hands that very instant. She had learned how her mother thought of Helen. In truth, she had known from the beginning but had denied it. Just as she regarded Helen as her older sister, she had believed her mother also considered Helen her child.
But realizing that belief had been futile, all that remained was a chill spreading throughout her body.
"I wish others would see us as sisters too."
Could sisters who were not acknowledged by their family appear as sisters in the eyes of others?
Rosie organized her thoughts. It could never be. And she shook off the Countess's hands from her shoulders.
"Mother, I am Helen's younger sister. I am the one who wants to nurse my sick sister, and I am the one who wishes for her to recover quickly."
"Rosie, I don't want to worry the family. Besides, His Majesty is coming. It might cause unnecessary misunderstanding. That is not what I want."
"Helen sincerely worried about our family… yet the family doesn't worry about her at all."
"Rosie…"
The Countess reached out her hand to Rosie, who hung her head in guilt. She tried to caress her beloved daughter's cheek, but Rosie took a step back.
"I will protect Helen. I will stand by her side when no one else will."
Rosie raised her head, and her eyes flashed. Her pupils shone with an icy light.
For the first time that day, the Countess saw the other side of her daughter. She had always been a child who hovered nearby with a lovely smile on her face. It had seemed she would remain that way forever.
But Rosie, who coldly turned away and entered Helen's bedroom, was not a child who would remain lovely and obedient forever. Wondering when she had grown so much, the Countess decided to recall old memories. But before that, she thought she ought to rest for a while.
Straightening her hair, the Countess headed for the stairs. The morning had been far too tumultuous.
* Sibylo
The first thing Rosie did upon entering Helen's room was to send away the servants the Countess had assigned to monitor Helen's condition. Once they had all left the room, the second thing she did was close the door.
Lastly, she sat on the edge of the bed where Helen lay sleeping, exhaling ragged, difficult breaths, and watched over her.
Helen, with her red hair and green eyes, had not been loved by her family. Anyone other than Rosie who had stayed at the Platini mansion during the short time since Helen returned would have known this fact.
Would she have been happier if she had simply stayed in Hexilof?
Helen had said that Hexilof was so cold it could not be compared to the capital. Even though bitter cold visited every year, it would be better than this place. At least there were people there who loved Helen.
"Helen. Do you want to go back to Hexilof? I'm just asking. I don't want you to go back, but if you wish it, I'll help you."
Helen was asleep, so she could not hear, and even if she heard, she would not be able to answer. So this was a soliloquy. A truly lonely soliloquy.
"But if you say you will stay here instead of going to Hexilof, I will protect you. Father is cold, and Mother is frightening, but I will find my courage."
Rosie Platini would love Helen Platini, whom no one else in this place loved.
"So please, don't be sick."
"Can you really protect me?"
It was then. Startled by her sister's sudden voice, Rosie turned to Helen in surprise. It seemed the fever had not yet subsided, for Helen's eyes were open only slightly. When Rosie placed the back of her hand on Helen's forehead, she felt a burning heat like fire. Still, was it fortunate that she had woken up?
"Helen, are you all right?"
"Better than this morning. I'm sorry, but could you give me some water? My throat is so dry."
"Okay!"
Before handing Helen the cup of water from the table, Rosie first raised Helen's upper body. Helen sat up and leaned her back against the soft pillow before drinking. Perhaps because of the fever, her throat felt parched, but after drinking the water, she felt a little better.
Rosie took the empty cup and asked,
"Are you really okay? Though I suppose you're not… Did I do the right thing?"
"It's all right. I told you, didn't I? After being sick for a few days, I'll recover completely. You made the best choice for me."
"The best choice…"
Was this really the best choice? Had her choice helped Helen? No, could it help her?
Rosie smiled brightly, yet she could not stop worrying.