The Quack Lady - Chapter 27

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This chapter was translated by Lunox Team. To support us and help keep this series going, visit our website: LunoxScans.com
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Episode 27

“When Clint got angry about the child neglecting his studies and tried to hit him, Tete bit Clint.”

The Countess pressed one hand to her forehead as if the mere thought gave her a headache.

What?

“Clint immediately ordered Tete to be killed, and that’s how the incident came to an end.”

She swallowed a bitter sigh.

Along with the frustrated exhale, a cold silence settled over the space.

“Then the Young Baron saw all of that…”

When I trailed off in shock, the Countess calmly nodded her head.

Though her tone was matter-of-fact, she seemed to feel some responsibility for it as well.

‘This is a complete emergency situation!’

A dog he considered family was killed by his own parents’ hands.

The sense of loss, pain, and betrayal the child must have felt would be indescribable.

“Afterwards, Demian changed, and Clint thinks the dog’s evil spirit went to Demian. Very foolishly, I might add.”

She shook her head slightly.

But that wasn’t what mattered right now.

“Then did the Young Baron properly send Tete off afterwards?”

“If you’re talking about a funeral…”

After thinking for a moment, she nodded very slowly.

It was a very ambiguous nod – neither a shake nor a proper nod.

Good heavens.

“Then did you discuss anything related to this afterwards? I mean, the Young Baron’s feelings…”

I asked with the desperation of grasping at straws.

There were two parents.

If it was the Countess, if it was her who cared for the child this much, surely she would have done something for Demian.

But.

“Demian consciously tried not to talk about it. He seemed to be trying hard to forget, so I didn’t mention it anymore.”

“Good heavens.”

The exclamation I’d been keeping to myself accidentally slipped out.

When I clasped my hands together to cover my mouth, the Countess tilted her head and asked.

“Why are you acting like this? If he’s trying to forget, rather than bringing it up…”

“Who said he was trying to forget?”

“What do you mean…”

“Did the Young Baron say that? That he would forget?”

I glared at her with a stern expression.

The faces of the maids behind her began to harden coldly.

“Please show proper respect. Your current words and behavior are rude…”

A maid stepped forward and added, but the Countess raised one hand slightly.

It meant to stop.

“Then what should I have done in that situation? Should I have forced a child who didn’t want to talk to bring up the wounds of that day?”

“…You should have taught him.”

Her eyes widened in disbelief.

“He’s not an adult. Before being the Young Baron, he’s just a nine-year-old child. How would a nine-year-old know that he should forget his sadness? This kind of loss would be the first emotion he’s ever experienced.”

“…”

“You should have taught him how to deal with emotions. You should have talked about his feelings enough, empathized with him, and accepted them.”

“…!”

“He’s just a little child.”

At my following words, her pupils trembled finely.

Facing her expression filled with shock and horror, I immediately stood up without hesitation.

“From this moment on, I will begin treatment immediately. The Young Baron needs absolute rest, so please don’t let anyone into his room except for necessary cases like meals or washing.”

“…”

I bowed my head toward her.

Then I turned around and walked steadily toward the door.

It was then that my short legs felt particularly regrettable today.

“Really… is it because of that reason?”

“For now, yes. Mental illness can become physical illness too. Especially for children who are still immature.”

“…Is it not too late yet?”

The voice I felt behind me was trembling finely.

I turned halfway around and spoke to the Countess.

“…I can’t guarantee that. We can only hope it’s not too late.”

If the child’s heart has already closed.

If his condition is so poor that he’s painting everything black on parchment to express his feelings.

‘It might already be too late.’

There’s a golden time for emotions too.

Emotions that aren’t resolved in time remain like lumps in the heart, following you for life.

Like the unforgettable wounds that exist in all our hearts.

‘I need to hurry.’

My heart grew anxious.

* * *

Hanel and Pairon, who were staying in the guest room, questioned the maid who had visited them.

“Rtemeia… requested a week’s time?”

At Pairon’s question, the maid quickly nodded up and down.

“You. That’s not what’s important right now. Rtemeia is serving alone in the Young Baron’s room and treating him by herself!”

Hanel began jumping around at the maid’s words.

He poured out his frustration into the air, saying she went to treat him, asking if she was going crazy from not being able to do maid work.

“You! Are you going to just let that child do maid work like this! This is fraud! When did they treat her politely as a doctor, and now they’re making her do maid work!”

“Rtemeia probably said she would do it.”

“What? The little one? Why!”

At Hanel’s shout, Pairon let out a deep sigh and tilted his head diagonally.

‘What on earth are you thinking, Rtemeia.’

Everything had already been arranged with the Countess.

And a week?

‘This is a child who cured my long illness in just an hour or two.’

Was the condition that bad?

Had she perhaps found some flaw?

…Was the child really okay?

His head felt like it would burst from all the questions that followed one after another.

Even though they should return immediately, he couldn’t bring himself to leave.

He immediately spoke to Hanel.

“You contact the guild and have them send all the materials needed for guild operations to the manor for about 2 weeks.”

“2 weeks? Why 2 weeks again!”

Hanel, who had become sensitive about the timeframe, questioned back, but Pairon didn’t answer.

Then, the maid who had been watching all this hesitantly spoke up.

“Well, I’ve delivered all the messages, so I’ll be going now…”

It was right when she was about to step back.

Pairon smiled at the maid as if something had occurred to him.

“No, you need to deliver my message.”

* * *

Maids were lined up in front of the Young Baron’s room.

It was to bring in the items I needed and my luggage.

“Here are the parchment and ink you requested, as well as the tools needed for the Young Baron. We will bring wash water at exactly ten in the morning, and please ring this bell when you need to put anything out.”

I received several necessary items through the maid.

Most fortunately, the Countess was cooperative with my treatment.

“The Countess asked me to deliver this to you.”

She even had the maid deliver things that Demian used to like, along with other items that might be helpful.

I took them and shoved them deep into the inner pocket of my clothes.

“Please tell her I received them well.”

The maid bowed her head at my words and disappeared toward the end of the corridor.

Bang.

At the sound of the door closing, I turned around to look at the Young Baron.

The child was still absorbed in coloring something, as if he didn’t care about someone like me at all.

I bowed my head toward the child.

“Let me introduce myself again. I’m Rtemeia, and I’ll be serving the Young Baron from now on.”

When I gave a cheerful greeting, the child’s gaze finally turned toward me.

The child had a somewhat dazed expression.

More precisely, he looked like he had given up on everything.

Strangely, that appearance felt similar to how I looked after losing my mother.

‘Get it together. Countertransference shouldn’t happen.’

When a therapist empathizes with a client and feels specific emotions. The opposite case is called transference.

I shook my head vigorously to pull myself together.

And I smiled broadly at the very pretty little boy in front of me.

Now it was time to begin treatment.

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