The days dragged on, and the palpitations grew stronger, making the act of knocking on the door all the more nerve-wracking.
Finally, Hall lost his patience and, when Isri knocked on the door the next time, sighed and let him in.
"Young Master, has he not woken up?" Isri asked, his voice trembling slightly as he looked at the face he hadn't seen in so long.
Hall stood next to Cecil, dipped a cotton swab in water, wiped it on his dry lips, and shook his head: "No."
Isri clenched his fists, looking at the person on the bed, who was as calm as if he had just fallen asleep, and the marks on his neck seemed to have faded a lot, finally looking like a normal person.
After a long pause, Isri spoke again: "The weather is nice today, I'll take the young master out to bask in the sun."
It was expected that Hall would refuse again, but to everyone's surprise, Hall only paused for a moment and then finally agreed to Isri's proposal.
A look of surprise flashed in Isri's eyes. He bent down and gently lifted the person on the bed into his arms. Just as he reached the door, Hall called out to Isri.
"Take this with you; it'll make things easier later."
As he spoke, he instructed his apprentice to put the wheelchair into the carriage. Isri moved very gently, as if afraid of causing the person in his arms to be jolted.
Just as he put the person in the car, a gaze from behind made Isri immediately alert. When he looked up at the gaze, it had vanished without a trace.
"Be careful." Hall looked at Cecil in the back seat and said with some pity.
"I will."
After the carriage left, Hall returned to the house and stared blankly at the pile of medicine on the table.
So many days have passed, why is there still no sign of him waking up?
Hall clenched his fists and angrily slammed his fist on the table, seemingly blaming himself for his incompetence.
Outside, at the edge of the alley, a man wearing a hat passed by an inconspicuous carriage with its window open.
"It's confirmed, it's Kritis."
Chapter 117
In a flash, the person disappeared through the crowd without a trace.
The person in the carriage received the news, a slight smile playing on their lips, and within seconds, they too disappeared into the crowd.
On the other side, Islam chose a relatively remote mountain where the wind was still warm. Islam placed Sehir in the wheelchair, his wrist still wrapped in thick gauze.
Islam paused for a second, then covered his lower body with the blanket. His golden hair shone even brighter in the sunlight, and a gentle breeze ruffled the strands, making it look somewhat disheveled.
A large patch of wildflowers bloomed in front, and many newly grown roses appeared in the shade. Isri pushed the wheelchair to the tree, squatted down in front of Ceshir, and opened his mouth.
"Young master, wait for me a moment."
Then, Islam got up and walked down the slope, deliberately avoiding the wildflowers on the ground. He took a detour to the rose bushes, squatted down, and picked a few roses.
The dark red petals unfurled in the sunlight, seemingly clamoring for the wildflowers at their feet. Isri walked back quickly, and when he saw Ceshir, his heart gradually calmed down.
Isri knelt down next to Sehir and placed the rose in Sehir's hand, saying softly, "Young master, this time it's my turn to pick it for you."
Just then, a gust of wind picked up, scattering Isri's words in fragments, but the person in the wheelchair kept his eyes closed, as if resisting the outside world.
Islam stood up, brushed Sehir's hair behind his ear, and gently kissed Sehir's forehead.
"sorry……"
It seems that so far, he can only say these three words. Any more words would be useless, and any attempt to make amends would be nothing but empty talk.
What he did to Cecil cannot be undone by making amends.
"Young Master, I'll wait for you to wake up." Isri said, his head bowed, his voice carried away by the wind.
This madman admired and coveted his master, yet in the end, only this madman was the one who suffered the consequences.
-
Noon passed quickly, and the wind on the mountaintop picked up. Islam bent down and put his arm around Sehir.
With the force of the embrace, Sehir's head rested against Isri's neck.
Apart from the sound of the wind around us, all that was left was the faint, even breathing of the person in our arms.
Isri wanted to take Sehir back, but ultimately turned at the crossroads.
It's right that Sehir is now with Hall.
Having gotten away with it this time, Isri came even more frequently. Apart from occasionally taking Ceshir out a few times, he would spend the rest of his days sitting by the bed waiting.
“Young Master, why aren’t you awake yet…” Isri’s voice pierced Hall like a sword in the quiet room.
Hall glanced at the person on the bed, his brows furrowing even deeper. After a moment, he reluctantly spoke, "I don't know either."
Disappointment flashed in Islam's eyes as he turned and slowly lifted the person's arm on the bed to move it.
The wound has begun to heal, but the ugly scar will remain permanently on my wrist.
“It must have hurt a lot back then,” Islam said to himself.
Hall shook his head and turned back to the pile of medicine; only in this way could he suppress his urge to kill Isri.
The person on the bed was quiet. Isri lowered his eyes and looked down at the wound.
"I'm willing to accept any punishment, and I won't object to leaving you. I only ask for this now..."
Isri gently rested his head on Cesil's fingertips, never imagining he would cry so pathetically.
"Please wake up..."
His throat ached from crying, as if he had swallowed shards of glass. Islam closed his eyes, his lips trembling slightly.
It was evening again when Isri finally dragged himself out of the house and sat in the empty carriage.
These past few days I've been so busy running around that I haven't had time to feed the little birds I keep in the garden. By the time I remembered them, the birds were already lying in their nest, barely alive.
Islam tensed up and quickly handed over water and food. Only after smelling the aroma did the little bird peek out and slowly begin to suckle.
Since Sehir's incident, the house has not been cleaned, and a thin layer of dust has settled on the once clean countertop.
Isri glanced at it but made no move, and shuffled back into his room.
There were few clouds in the sky tonight, and the moonlight shone into the room. Ishri lay on the bed, his gaze meeting the moon outside the window.
The moonlight, as bright as day, seemed to be watching over his people as Prometheus quietly and gently kissed them.
Islam felt that he was a joke, a joke that had been created.
-
The next day, Islam got up very early as usual, but as soon as he came downstairs, a sound from a carriage outside made Islam's scalp tingle.
Islam did not open the door in advance, but waited for the other party. After a few seconds, Islam opened the door a crack and looked at the soldiers outside.
Upon seeing Isri open the door, the soldiers, not to be outdone, rushed in sideways, and those behind them followed suit, surrounding Isri.
The people in the carriage also appeared and slowly walked over. Isri's eyes twitched slightly, and he bowed in greeting.
"According to our investigation, Your Excellency was born in a mental hospital in the eastern suburbs. We now suspect that Your Excellency poses a threat to Duke Cretis. Please come with us now."
A hint of surprise flashed in Islam's eyes as he looked up at the soldier in front of him.
Seeing that the man in front of him did not believe him, the soldier took out two pieces of paper from his waist and handed them to Islam, one of which was slightly yellowed.
The soldier remained expressionless, then opened his mouth: "That winter, only one woman gave birth at the East Suburb Mental Hospital. Unfortunately, the child had black hair and was abandoned that same year."
Isri's hand holding the paper trembled slightly, and a hint of surprise appeared in his eyes.
“This should be similar to your experience.” The soldier opened his mouth and continued looking at the white paper, “This paper was obtained by investigating the blood of that woman from back then. After comparing it with yours, there is a certain degree of similarity.”
Isri frowned, lowered his hand, and looked at the soldier in front of him: "What evidence do you have that I would pose a threat to the young master?"
Just as the soldier was about to open his mouth to explain, he saw the Queen walk around from behind and stand in front of Isri, a hint of smugness hidden in her eyes.
“I have the right to suspect that you are also mentally ill, given that you were born to a mentally ill woman.” The Queen opened her mouth with a helpless expression.
“I must ensure the safety of my people, especially my only duke.”
Islam clenched his fists, his tone forced to be respectful: "You have no evidence."
A hint of sarcasm appeared on the Queen's face as she opened her mouth and asked, "Where is Duke Cretis now?"
Immediately, Isri froze on the spot. The Queen chuckled, took a step forward, stood in front of Isri, tiptoed to his ear, and whispered, a smile curving her lips.
"What I'm saying is the evidence."
Chapter 118
After speaking, the Queen turned around and looked at the soldiers behind her, her face instantly regaining its previous gentleness and helplessness.
"take away."
As soon as he finished speaking, the soldiers rushed forward and shackled Isri's gloves. Isri's face darkened; he dared not make any rash moves now.
Otherwise, the only outcome will be death.
Two carriages were parked outside, indicating that they had come prepared. Isri was pushed into the back carriage, the door was closed, and it was pitch black inside, without even a window.
The Queen sat calmly in her seat, eating the fruit from the plate placed beside her, while the soldiers walked around to the front of the carriage, bowed respectfully, and opened their mouths.
"Your Majesty, what should be done with this person?"
The Queen stopped eating fruit, raised her hand and gently tapped the table. After a long while, she finally spoke: "Go back and lock her in the dungeon first."
"Yes, sir!" the soldier shouted as he stood up.
-
Meanwhile, Hall was in his room looking at the time. Isri should have arrived much earlier, so why hadn't he come yet?
Unbeknownst to him, Hall had gotten used to Isri coming over on time every day, and his sudden absence was rather unusual.
"Maybe because he's busy?" The young master standing next to Hall looked at Hall and immediately understood what Hall meant.
Hall's face darkened when he was exposed. He turned to his apprentice and scolded him, "If you have this comprehension ability, why don't you put it into medicine!"
The boy was so frightened that he immediately lowered his head to look at his book and dared not say anything more.
Hall stood to the side, his fingertips constantly rubbing together. He felt a void in his heart all day, as if something was about to disappear.
How could Isri possibly go back to attend to other matters? As long as Ceshir doesn't wake up, Isri will not leave his side for even a moment.