The Immortal Duke’s Physician Is an Internist - Chapter 12

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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2.
“Rio. Wake up.”
Blashion opened his eyes slowly.
Brilliant sunlight poured down. The soft grass beneath his fingertips.
He absently brushed back his bangs, then jolted upright. His eyes widened at the sight of black hair falling past his face.
The pink-haired woman standing before him tilted her head with a worried expression.
“Are you all right? Does anything hurt?”
……
Black hair. The name Rio. From these two details alone, Blashion quickly grasped where—and when—he was.
He stood in the Garden of the Royal Palace of the Crimina Kingdom.
The year was seven hundred years ago, when he still went by the name Rio.
Blashion—or rather, Rio—rose to his feet and bowed with proper courtesy.
“Your Highness, forgive me for showing such an unseemly sight.”
“No, the training must have worn you out. I shouldn’t have woken you.”
The princess’s face remained indistinct, but he could see the flush creeping across her cheeks.
A princess of the realm showing favor to a mere bodyguard was something he could not permit himself to welcome.
Rio deepened his bow, his courtesy deliberate and formal.
“Allow me to escort you back to your chambers, Your Highness. Prince Itrang will be arriving soon, and you ought to prepare.”
To speak her betrothed’s name in this moment alone together—it was Rio’s most graceful way of refusing her.
The princess’s face darkened visibly. Without a word, she turned away quickly.
“I’ll go alone.”
“As you wish, Your Highness.”
“I said it’s fine! Don’t follow me. That’s an order.”
The princess walked away with heavy steps, then suddenly stopped and turned back.
“Rio. You are my bodyguard, are you not?”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“Then you will protect me always?”
It was a question with only one answer. Rio bowed his head in affirmation.
“Always, Your Highness. I shall protect you until my dying breath.”
He did not know then.
That the day when his breath would fail would never come, even seven hundred years hence.
That the one he had pitied would become an object of his hatred for seven hundred years and more.
He truly did not know.
* * *
When Blashion opened his eyes again, the room had already gone dark.
Everlain, who had been keeping vigil in the shadows, approached the bed.
“Everlain. How long did I sleep?”
“Exactly four and a half hours, sir.”
“And the doctor?”
“Resting on the cot beneath the bed.”
Glancing down, Blashion saw Leonel curled up on the auxiliary bed below, sleeping soundly. It seemed that after he had drifted off, she had succumbed to exhaustion as well.
Everlain asked, “Shall I wake her?”
“No. Leave her be.”
“Understood, sir. The doctor has surely been worn thin by recent duties and matters.”
Whether to call it ‘work’ or ‘chores,’ Blashion found himself agreeing with his subordinate’s assessment.
Examining every person in the estate, designing individual meal plans for each, and in the midst of it all, making frequent trips to the kitchen to prepare Rapid Aging Food—
It was only natural that Leonel, who had spent the past two weeks more intensely than anyone, now lay asleep in this darkened room.
‘Always running about as though she’d never tire. So you’re human after all.’
As Blashion watched her gently rising and falling shoulders, Everlain spoke.
“You slept for quite some time. How do you feel?”

Blashion had never enjoyed sleeping. Not that he disliked the act itself—it was the dreams that sometimes came with it that he despised.
Over the long centuries, many had died. They appeared in his dreams in countless forms, tormenting him.
Of them all, the dreams of the princess were the most painful.
He knew well that she was long dead, that dreams were merely memory made manifest.
Yet each time, Blashion suffered. Whenever she appeared in his dreams, he would afterwards consciously avoid sleep. His insomnia grew worse with each passing year.
But today.
Today, strangely, that familiar irritation did not surface. For an Immortal, it was something that had never happened before.

“I’m in a good mood.”
“That’s a relief indeed. I think it would be best if you left now.”
Everlain spoke thus and opened the door. Blashion nodded in agreement and descended from the bed.
Just before leaving the room, he tucked the blanket he’d been using around Leonel more snugly. She, snoring softly, instantly became one with the quilt, curled up like a snail.
“……Ah.”
The reason his mood wasn’t foul, despite having endured a disagreeable dream.
He thought he might know the reason why.
“Everlain. Can we purchase one more chair like the one I use in my study?”
“Kaelyun likely has that information, but is there another place you require one?”
“Get an identical one and put it in this clinic room as well.”
“Understood. I shall look into it.”
Everlain consented without objection.
What his lord was thinking, he could not say.
In any case, Everlain thought that replacing a chair or two was a small price to pay for seeing such an untroubled expression on his face.
* * *
At that same moment, in the second-floor room of the Dorset Marquessate.
Marquis Dorset was lecturing his son, who hadn’t left his bed in days.
“You simpering fool. Who told you to go all the way to the Duke’s Estate and cause such a scene? Do you have any idea how much damage you’ve done to our business? Your mother is out at the farm right now, spreading manure with her own hands!”
The Dorset Marquessate’s primary income came from fruit farming.
They were quite renowned for quality peaches and grapes, but such reputation could only be maintained when there were sufficient hands to work.
The Marquis had been struggling lately as peasants abandoned their positions and left.
He’d found considerable amusement in embezzling money from the peasants through harsh treatment and squandering it on illegal gambling, but even that had become rare as he was occupied with farm matters.
And not long ago, he discovered that the Carceido Dukedom was poaching his peasants with unprecedented recruitment offers.
“They offer double wages for the same work—why would anyone stay here? We slave all day for pittance.”
“And I hear that physician who came recently takes very good care of their meals. They even draw up proper employment contracts.”
Why would that renowned Duke’s household entice peasants away? The reason was not hard to deduce.
Rumors had already spread throughout society that Adrian had gone to that house, caused a scene, and been thoroughly beaten for it.
“Useless wretch. What does that bastard girl think she is…… I should have told Lavienne long ago to dispose of that one. Ugh, this is infuriating!!”
The Marquis slammed the door shut and stormed out.
Adrian trembled beneath his blanket until the footsteps faded away.
Around him lay scattered confections, fruit, and bread, half-eaten and abandoned.
“Kuh, kuh…… Unfair…… So unfair. Leonel, were you helpless too? So you were just that kind of woman after all—drooling over anything with a pretty exterior?”
Though he considered himself quite charming, the three men he’d met at the Carceido Estate were specimens of an entirely different caliber.
Especially that Duke—he was so flawless that Adrian didn’t even dare look at him. The moment he laid eyes on him, Adrian felt an overwhelming sense of humiliation.
“Wretched man…… When you smiled at me, when was that? Wretched……”
Adrian crunched through a bowl of popcorn, then crammed it all into his mouth at once.
Unsatisfied, he shoved cake into his mouth right after. Crumbs and residue soon caked his hands and face.
Yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop.
His entire body craved food. Already his throat was choked with it, and though he felt as though he might be sick, his hands kept reaching for more.
He wanted to eat more. More and more…… More, more, more……!!
“How pitiable you are, Adrian Dorset.”
“Ahhh!!”
Adrian jumped in fright and tumbled backward. At the same moment, the peanuts he’d been holding scattered into the air like snow.
Adrian scrambled to his feet and saw the intruder. Beyond the window, on the balcony, someone stood leaning against the railing.
“Who, who are you?!”
“Me? I am…… yes, you may call me the Tall Man. I’ve come to hear your troubles.”
The stranger was a tall man. Draped in a loose robe that obscured his face, yet an air of refinement emanated from his bearing and movements.
“Do you want to marry Leonel Frenscia?”
“……!”
“I know that you’re fond of her. I also know you went to the Duke’s Estate.”
Though clearly a suspicious person, Adrian’s mind—dulled from eating and sleeping and nothing else—could not judge properly.
Adrian stared at him blankly and asked.
“Can I…… have Leonel?”
“No, no. Foolish Adrian.”
The man shook his head firmly.
“You mustn’t think like that. To speak of having or not having a person is discourteous. You’d be treating her as if she were a possession.”
“Then…… how can I make Leonel accept my feelings?”
The suspicious man answered quickly.
“Get thin.”
“……Pardon?”
“Lose the weight, get lean. Make yourself attractive to her. But it won’t be easy, will it? That’s why I brought something good.”
The man drew something from his breast pocket—a Glass Vial the size of a palm, fitted with a stopper.
He shook the Glass Vial lightly as he spoke.
“This medicine will certainly be a great help.”

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Novels. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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