I Don't Need the Grand Duke's Regret - Chapter 141
Ricardo’s face was expressionless.
There was no sign of pain, desperation, or anything else on his gaunt features covered in blood.
He looked almost lifeless.
“No…”
Mirabel gazed in shock at his hand, which had fallen to the ground. As she looked at his blood-soaked hand, her eyes contorted in distress.
“Wait… You’re just sleeping, right? That’s it?”
A faint, trembling voice escaped from her red lips.
Mirabel stared intently at Ricardo and reached for his hand, as if trying to grasp it.
But it was a futile effort.
The Ricardo who had always held onto her tightly was no longer there.
No matter how much she tried to take his hand, his limp body remained lifeless.
The hand that once reached for her, despite being pushed away time and again.
Now lay still.
“Ricardo!”
Mirabel cried out, tears streaming down her face. In desperation, she cast a healing spell on him.
Even with her weak magic, she could at least wake his consciousness. But the faint golden light lingered for only a moment before fading away.
“Wake up. Please…”
Mirabel continued to cast spells on Ricardo, but no matter how many times she tried, he did not wake up.
Her hands trembled as she grasped the meaning behind his stillness.
Normally, repeated healing spells would bring someone back to consciousness.
But such a response meant that he had sustained injuries too severe for any ordinary magic to heal.
Perhaps even fatal injuries.
“No…”
Mirabel shook her head vigorously, as if trying to deny reality. She clutched Ricardo tightly and shouted.
“No… No!”
“Princess!”
Sophie, who had been holding Charles, rushed over to Mirabel.
Seeing the distraught princess, Sophie called out again.
“Princess, the Grand Duke will be okay! He’s just lost consciousness for a moment! So please, calm down!”
“…Sophie.”
Tears streaming down her face, Mirabel looked at Sophie while still holding onto Ricardo.
Her normally cold blue eyes burned with emotion as she faced him.
“Is that really true?”
Mirabel squeezed her eyes shut, tears collecting on her lashes and rolling down to her chin.
“…Yes, it must be.”
Mirabel wiped her tears with the back of her hand and forced a faint smile. With anxious eyes, she lifted the corners of her mouth, telling herself, almost as if hypnotizing her own mind.
“The Grand Duke is not the kind of person who would fall apart like this…”
As she spoke to Sophie, Mirabel leaned her head back. Taking a deep breath, she managed to continue:
“Someone like him… would never crumble so easily.”
* * *
Missus Catarina rushed up to the second floor, followed by maids carrying basins of hot water and clean towels.
As she passed through the corridor and ascended the stairs, she crossed another wide hallway and opened a door with a stern expression.
“Grab the Grand Duke’s arm, hurry!”
“More towels! Bring more towels!”
The moment the door opened, a flurry of sounds rushed in all at once, like a battlefield’s urgency.
Missus Catarina quickly approached the blood-soaked man lying in the center of the room, avoiding the servants.
The man, wearing black trousers and no shirt, had a thick chest that expanded and contracted rapidly.
Missus Catarina carefully examined his condition. He appeared somewhat better than two days ago, but he still looked precarious.
“I brought water and towels.”
“Place them over here. And I think we’ll need more sheets.”
The gray-haired doctor wiped his sweat and spoke anxiously. Missus Catarina nodded and glanced at the maid who had followed her.
She listened to the sound of the maids exiting the room as she looked down at the man with a serious expression.
The scars etched into his broad chest and sculpted abdomen suggested he had fought fiercely against a beast.
The strong man’s legs were tied to the bed’s posts, and he resembled a wild animal.
Yet, there was no hint of ferocity in him. Only the pitiful struggle to cling to a fading thread of life was evident.
“Kugh…!”
At that moment, the pale-faced man violently heaved, raising his upper body to spit out blood.
The doctor expertly covered the man’s mouth with a towel, and in an instant, the white cloth turned red.
Missus Catarina watched as the color drained from the man’s handsome face. When he slumped forward, she pressed her lips together tightly.
In all the decades of knowing him, had Missus Catarina ever been so anxious about Ricardo Vittore?
It was different from when he had become a shell of a man after losing Armilla.
At that time, Ricardo had no will to live; describing him as a living corpse would have been apt.
However, ever since Princess Mirabel arrived in Renato, he had changed. He seemed to be regaining some semblance of his former self.
He still wandered the corridors at night, unable to sleep properly, but still…
Gradually, he appeared to be returning to his old self, albeit insufficiently.
So she had felt reassured.
Yet on the day Princess Mirabel was set to leave, he had insisted on accompanying her as her escort, only to return two days later drenched in blood.
When Ezio limped in, supporting Ricardo, the mansion was filled with shock.
Despite having faced countless battlefields, Ricardo had never been this deeply wounded before.
Because he had never allowed the enemy’s attacks to land on him.
Ricardo had cut off the life of his opponents before their blades even grazed him.
This included the beasts he faced.
The only time he had ever shown vulnerability to a beast was when Armilla had been in the mansion.
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