While the courtier in charge of the afternoon was summoned to the Queen and scolded, Judith did not miss that brief moment of freedom and closely observed King Jedercayer.
After observing the King's condition for a few days, there were several strange things, even in the eyes of Judith, who had no special knowledge about diseases or medicine.
It has already been about eight years since the King was sick in bed. Franz is now nineteen, so if Judith remembers correctly, he will soon be approaching his ninth year. It is said that the first year or two were nothing more than worries, but even taking that into account, the King's body was extremely clean.
First of all, it was suspicious that no boils or bedsores, which are common on the body of a sick person who has been lying down for a long time, were visible. Even though it was thanks to the sincere care of the chamberlain who had been attending to him until now, it was surprising that he had not shown any symptoms until now.
Also, there was no peculiar odor that a patient's body would normally give off. When Judith took the time to look closely at King Jedercayer, he looked more like someone who had just been asleep for an absurdly long time rather than being sick.
Of course, there were times when his symptoms became noticeably more serious. Although she had not experienced it in the last few days, Judith had seen the King's body boil with fever several times in her past life when she had nursed him. Once the fever started to rise, he would talk nonsense even while unconscious, or in severe cases, he would moan and scream in pain.
However, those symptoms would quickly disappear with medication. Excluding such incidents, it was difficult to find anything remotely patient about the King.
Judith refreshed the pillow the King was lying on and observed his face carefully. Although the area under his eyes was somewhat sunken and he was thin enough to look hard, his complexion was not that bad.
'Huh?'
Judith's brow furrowed slightly as she straightened the King's tilted face on the pillow.
She carefully cupped the sides of the King's lips and pressed them lightly. His dry, dry lips parted, slightly revealing the soft flesh inside and the gums that supported his teeth.
What is this?
Judith lowered her head and looked closer into the King's mouth. His slightly swollen gums and the tip of his tongue could be seen to have a strange blue color.
Frowning, Judith tried to open his mouth a little more by pressing his teeth with her fingertips. The bluish marks that started from the tip of his tongue spread to both sides of his tongue and continued to where his molars were. This was a fact she had not known before.
Judith, who had been bending down to examine the inside of his mouth, was so startled by the sound of people coming from outside that she fell away from him. The moment she gently pushed the jaw that wasn't closing to return to its usual appearance, the palace doctor with narrowed brows and a thick face came into the bedroom.
Judith just stared at him without saying anything. She already knew enough to know that he was not worth talking to, and she would not feel good about being scolded by the Queen, so she decided there was no need to touch him.
The doctor felt an inexplicable discomfort rising toward the young Princess, who did not feel intimidated or troubled by the sight of him.
Just like Helen when she was alive, he also did not like the look in Judith's eyes. As he stood facing her flawless light blue eyes staring at him, he felt like he was being scolded harshly even if he didn't say anything.
“Aren’t the pillows too high? It doesn’t seem good for patients who are lying down for a long time.”
It was an unexpected cavil. Judith looked back at the pillow she had straightened a moment ago and nodded with a solemn expression.
“I raised his neck because it seemed uncomfortable, but I’ll put it back on for you.”
“Also, the spoon used to give water is too big. Change it to something smaller.”
Even though she was still using a small enough teaspoon, Judith agreed this time too. It wouldn't be difficult to pour water into an unconscious person's mouth with a smaller spoon, but such a rebuttal would make the doctor run to the Queen.
Since all three of them were grumpy, Judith obediently obeyed them in the first place, not wanting to give them any excuse. The doctor could not suppress his displeasure as he saw Judith silently doing as she was told. Since he had nothing to complain about, he hated looking at her even more.
Even though he cleared his throat in an unpleasant tone, Judith didn't show anything. Pretending to refresh the height of the pillow, she was contemplating the strange symptom she had noticed earlier.
Blue marks on the tongue, inside the lips, and gums.
She felt like she needed to find out whether it was due to the King's illness or whether it was the illness that caused it.
She had to do everything he could to improve the King even a little.
The Duke of Vergy looked carefully at the complicated documents and made a small clicking sound.
The monthly report from the duchy contained some unwelcome news. It was said that pirates have been appearing frequently near the coast of the duchy recently, causing minor damage constantly.
The ducal residence was located in the capital, but the duchy subordinate to the Vergy family was located somewhat away from the capital. A portion of the plains and forests along the river to the east, as well as a portion of the sea area, also belong to the Vergy family.
Because of the family tradition of not intervening in factional fights and not being deeply involved in politics led by the royal family, he did not have great power. However, it is no exaggeration to say that the Duke of Vergy was a family with a similar history to the Kingdom of Rotair.
From the time the first founding King established Rotair, Vergy was treated as a founding believer, and there were three Queens who came from ducal families, including the late Queen Emerea, who was the wife of King Jedercayer.
If the head of the family had his way, he could have shaken the foundations of the Rotair royal family, but not a single Duke in the past who followed the Vergy surname rebelled against the King.
A few generations ago, the eldest son of the family, who would inherit the title and become the next Duke of Vergy, tried to control politics by gathering nobles. Rumors spread widely throughout the capital that they were not only dragging around the idiots who attacked the dukedom at the mere sight of their name but were also trying to put pressure on the King.
Then, the anecdote that his indignant father personally beheaded his son, accusing him of treason, took the body to a rough place buried it, and passed the title to his second son was passed down like a legend among the Rotair nobles.
Due to a resolute family tradition that was difficult for ordinary people to imagine, no faction or force was ever formed around the Duke of Vergy. Nevertheless, the dukedom has always been the spiritual pillar of nobles who pursued royalist or moderate views.
Now, even though the power of the family itself has been greatly weakened by the Queen's reign, no one can easily touch Vergy. It was all thanks to his maternal uncle, the Duke, that Franz was able to survive despite losing his parents' shadow one after another at a young age.
“Father, I’m here!”
Suddenly, a loud voice shook the spacious mansion. Before the Duke could raise his head, the door to the study opened, and a sturdy young man came in with a bright smile on his face. The Duke's eyes widened slightly when he saw him.
“What happened to you all of a sudden?”
“After finishing this quarter’s training course, I stopped by for a short break. I think I can stay for a few weeks this time.”
“I’m sure your mother is jumping up and down because she’s happy.”
The young man was Bartholomew, the eldest son of the Duke of Vergy. He was the same age as Franz and was at the age when he would have been preparing step by step to inherit the family. However, he actually stayed in the capital for less than a month a year as he was training to join the King's elite army, the Comblers.
Thanks to this, the Duchess had to spend her time worrying about him whether she was asleep or awake. His health and injuries were a concern, but the biggest worry was the fact that if he joined the Combler, he would have to live solely as a soldier for the King until he retired.
If war broke out, the Duke would only have to provide private soldiers, but this was not the case for the Combler. These are the people who must guard the King and advance to the front line. When Bartholomew said he would volunteer for the Combler training, the Duchess tried to stop him, even pretending to fall, but it was no use.
“Now leave this to your vassals. Do you still look after it yourself?”
Bartholomew said after looking at the pieces of paper hanging on the desk. Even though he was only staying at the training camp, he had a basic intelligence, so he just looked at a few details and quickly realized that it was the duchy's monthly report and that it contained not very good news.
“It’s a thing in our family. No matter how faithfully the vassals work, there is bound to be a difference between trusting and entrusting them and seeing it with my own eyes.”
“Every time I came home, I noticed my father was getting older, and there was a reason for it.”
“What did you say? Keep in mind that although I am older, I can still pin my son down.”
The Duke chuckled and laughed. For a while, work in the royal castle was noisy and his bones ached all the time, but seeing Bartholomew, who came home after a long time, made the Duke feel a little less anxious.
“How are Franz doing?”
The Duke of Vergy's eyes blinked a couple of times. Come to think of it, Bartholomew didn't know much about Franz.
Combler trainees live a life almost cut off from the outside world when they are training. Since they were the ones who had to stand closest to the King, it was to prevent them from falling into useless temptations and only improve their skills.
“He had a Princess not long ago.”
"Yes?"
Bartholomew's large body almost jumped out of the chair. His mouth, which had been flinching as if he was about to stop laughing, opened wide and he let out a loud laugh.
"Oh my God! I can't believe I know that now! No, wait a minute. Then wouldn't he have gotten married? Anyway, there’s no way I didn’t know about the Prince’s wedding, right?”
“There was no wedding.”
“There wasn’t any? What do you mean?"
The Duke clicked his tongue with a bitter expression and moved his sore neck around.
***
The Duke of Vergy looked carefully at the complicated documents and made a small clicking sound.
The monthly report from the duchy contained some unwelcome news. It was said that pirates have been appearing frequently near the coast of the duchy recently, causing minor damage constantly.
The ducal residence was located in the capital, but the duchy subordinate to the Vergy family was located somewhat away from the capital. A portion of the plains and forests along the river to the east, as well as a portion of the sea area, also belong to the Vergy family.
Because of the family tradition of not intervening in factional fights and not being deeply involved in politics led by the royal family, he did not have great power. However, it is no exaggeration to say that the Duke of Vergy was a family with a similar history to the Kingdom of Rotair.
From the time the first founding King established Rotair, Vergy was treated as a founding believer, and there were three Queens who came from ducal families, including the late Queen Emerea, who was the wife of King Jedercayer.
If the head of the family had his way, he could have shaken the foundations of the Rotair royal family, but not a single Duke in the past who followed the Vergy surname rebelled against the King.
A few generations ago, the eldest son of the family, who would inherit the title and become the next Duke of Vergy, tried to control politics by gathering nobles. Rumors spread widely throughout the capital that they were not only dragging around the idiots who attacked the dukedom at the mere sight of their name but were also trying to put pressure on the King.
Then, the anecdote that his indignant father personally beheaded his son, accusing him of treason, took the body to a rough place buried it, and passed the title to his second son was passed down like a legend among the Rotair nobles.
Due to a resolute family tradition that was difficult for ordinary people to imagine, no faction or force was ever formed around the Duke of Vergy. Nevertheless, the dukedom has always been the spiritual pillar of nobles who pursued royalist or moderate views.
Now, even though the power of the family itself has been greatly weakened by the Queen's reign, no one can easily touch Vergy. It was all thanks to his maternal uncle, the Duke, that Franz was able to survive despite losing his parents' shadow one after another at a young age.
“Father, I’m here!”
Suddenly, a loud voice shook the spacious mansion. Before the Duke could raise his head, the door to the study opened, and a sturdy young man came in with a bright smile on his face. The Duke's eyes widened slightly when he saw him.
“What happened to you all of a sudden?”
“After finishing this quarter’s training course, I stopped by for a short break. I think I can stay for a few weeks this time.”
“I’m sure your mother is jumping up and down because she’s happy.”
The young man was Bartholomew, the eldest son of the Duke of Vergy. He was the same age as Franz and was at the age when he would have been preparing step by step to inherit the family. However, he actually stayed in the capital for less than a month a year as he was training to join the King's elite army, the Comblers.
Thanks to this, the Duchess had to spend her time worrying about him whether she was asleep or awake. His health and injuries were a concern, but the biggest worry was the fact that if he joined the Combler, he would have to live solely as a soldier for the King until he retired.
If war broke out, the Duke would only have to provide private soldiers, but this was not the case for the Combler. These are the people who must guard the King and advance to the front line. When Bartholomew said he would volunteer for the Combler training, the Duchess tried to stop him, even pretending to fall, but it was no use.
“Now leave this to your vassals. Do you still look after it yourself?”
Bartholomew said after looking at the pieces of paper hanging on the desk. Even though he was only staying at the training camp, he had a basic intelligence, so he just looked at a few details and quickly realized that it was the duchy's monthly report and that it contained not very good news.
“It’s a thing in our family. No matter how faithfully the vassals work, there is bound to be a difference between trusting and entrusting them and seeing it with my own eyes.”
“Every time I came home, I noticed my father was getting older, and there was a reason for it.”
“What did you say? Keep in mind that although I am older, I can still pin my son down.”
The Duke chuckled and laughed. For a while, work in the royal castle was noisy and his bones ached all the time, but seeing Bartholomew, who came home after a long time, made the Duke feel a little less anxious.
“How are Franz doing?”
The Duke of Vergy's eyes blinked a couple of times. Come to think of it, Bartholomew didn't know much about Franz.
Combler trainees live a life almost cut off from the outside world when they are training. Since they were the ones who had to stand closest to the King, it was to prevent them from falling into useless temptations and only improve their skills.
“He had a Princess not long ago.”
"Yes?"
Bartholomew's large body almost jumped out of the chair. His mouth, which had been flinching as if he was about to stop laughing, opened wide and he let out a loud laugh.
"Oh my God! I can't believe I know that now! No, wait a minute. Then wouldn't he have gotten married? Anyway, there’s no way I didn’t know about the Prince’s wedding, right?”
“There was no wedding.”
“There wasn’t any? What do you mean?"
The Duke clicked his tongue with a bitter expression and moved his sore neck around.
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