Chapter 6: 3.2

“Well, Nicholas, please, I’d like Lady Crimson Rose to the capital.”

There was already a man sitting in the carriage who looked like a watchman. His aide Heinz put Roseline in the chair and beckoned to the outside. A man in a white coat came running from afar. As the Black Knights of the duke of Postenmeyer, they were all dressed in black armor and black cloaks, but the man in the white coat with a black armband, was perhaps, by his looks, a military doctor.

“Aide Heinz, what’s the matter?” the man in white asked.

“Lady Crimson Rose is wounded. Damien, you treat her.”

“What? Did you tell me to treat her in a moving carriage?”

“Damien, you can do it. Because you’re the best of them all!”

“What do you mean by that superlative?”

“What’s the matter, Damien? I believe in you. Nicholas, if Lady Crimson Rose’s condition worsens, send a signal as soon as possible.”

Heinz smiled brightly like the sun and pushed Damien into the carriage and closed the door. The wheel of the carriage began to roll. Although the shaking was less than Roseline expected, Damian sighed as if he was not even bothered by it.

“This is so…” Damien clicked his tongue and fixed his glasses. “Well, let me see your wound.”

There were many middle-aged men in the empress’s Blue Knights, but in the Black Knights, perhaps because of the young Grand Duke Postenmeyer, the age bracket of the knights was relatively young.

The same was true of the army named Damien, who tended to her wounds. He was probably in his mid-twenties, sporting thin silver hair and blue-gray eyes. He was a dull-looking, unsatisfied man.

Contrary to Roseline’s first impression, it was surprising that he grunted and nagged.

“They are fucking bastards. It’s not even a back alley fight. How can you become a knight and make a lady’s body look like this…” he grumbled while mending Roseline’s wounds.

Roseline answered, “There is no reason for them to look after my situation. Just as I had no reason to think about their situation.”

In response to her blunt answer, Damien put on a worried expression, then shook his head and continued explaining in a soothing voice.

“Your muscles are swollen, but no bones are broken. The bruises on your skin will go away quickly. The scratches should not come in contact with water, and if you take good care of them, there will be no scars.”

“All right.”

“Don’t listen in vain. The human body is a consumable item. If you don’t value it, it will quickly break down.”

Roseline looked at her bandaged arm for a moment, then asked Damien.

“How long does it take to get to the capital?”

“At this rate, it will take about five hours to arrive late in the afternoon.”

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“Can I borrow a blanket? I want to sleep.”

Not only Damian, but also Nicholas, looked roundly at Roseline, but she answered calmly.

“Do I need to stay awake on the go?”

“Oh, no.”

“Then I’ll be fine. Please wake me up when you arrive.”

Damien and Nicholas exchanged awkward glances with each other. Damien nodded, and Nicholas pulled out the blanket from the box under the chair. Damien lightly brushed it off and handed it to Rosaline.

“Thank you. You are kind.”

“Because I was taught to be kind to patients. It’s only natural,” replied Damien.

“It is not easy to put what you have learned into practice.”

As soon as Roseline said that, she tried to close her eyes, but somehow she felt like she was being arrogant, so she added, “Damien, thank you for your treatment. The Grand Duke has a good army by his side. Roseline didn’t mean to flatter him. She merely didn’t want to offend the person who healed her wounds.

But in response to Rosaline’s answer, Damien quickly turned his head and coughed. It seemed that the corners of his eyes were a bit red for some reason.

“When we arrive in the capital, we will no longer meet, so thank you in advance.”

Roseline didn’t care that her guards were sitting on either side of her, and she slept soundly.

* * *

Arriving in the capital, Roseline followed guard Nicholas to the interrogation room. No, should she call it an interrogation room? It was pretty different from what she had envisioned as her interrogation room: a dark, damp, closed room blocked on all sides.

In a spacious room with late afternoon sunlight pouring in from a large window, a chair with gold ornaments was on the other side of an elegant lacquered table.

“Is this the place where I am to be interrogated?” she inquired but received no response.

Nicholas showed Roseline her seat, then went outside and closed the door. She looked around and sat down in the chair across from her table. She found the chair wrapped in reddish-purple velvet very soft and comfortable.

I’m under suspicion of a felony. Is it okay to be treated this way?

With a somewhat shaky mind, Roseline waited for an interrogator to come inside… only that the interrogator did not come.

“Roseline Crimson Rose.”

“…Grand Duke?”

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