To The Traitor in My Bed - Chapter 36
Deirdre had decided to come, so she was prepared to endure the discomfort. She had bundled herself up in so many layers that Frederick had to sit between the sleigh’s wall and his wife’s clothing. Occasionally, when the sleigh jolted, he would extend his arm to steady her.
“Nothing’s happened in Wigmore for a long time… What could it be?”
When she asked anxiously. He answered lazily.
“We’ll know soon enough.”
Being confined to a sleigh for hours was indeed a hardship. Fortunately, the snowstorm hadn’t hit, but the glare of the sun on the snow was harsh on the eyes, and they couldn’t look outside freely. She tried to read the book she brought, but in the rocking sleigh, that was difficult as well.
Frederick occasionally checked in with his wife.
“Are you cold, Deirdre?”
“No.”
“Is it too hard for you?”
“No.”
If it had become too difficult, she would have leaned gently against his shoulder and tried to sleep. Thanks to the hearth under the seat, the sleigh was warm, and the layers of clothing she wore made him feel unbearably hot, though she didn’t realize it.
Fortunately, all journeys have an end.
It wasn’t until nightfall and complete darkness that the group, traveling in three sleighs, finally arrived at their destination. When they reached the entrance to the city walls surrounding Wigmore, she said she would walk from there. But as soon as her feet touched the ground, her entire body ached.
She took Frederick’s offered arm and walked slowly.
Wigmore felt like a city frozen in time from 300 years ago. Back then, it was a city, but now it was more like a large village. The stone walls, having endured cycles of freezing and thawing for centuries, still bore the marks of ice and snow.
However, the first builders of the city walls seemed to have known how to protect themselves from blizzards and the bitter cold, as the inside of the walls was much warmer than the outside. As Deirdre walked, she even began to feel slightly warm despite all the clothing she wore.
The snow-covered streets were almost empty. At this hour, half of those outside were border guards from Antwerp. Their station wasn’t far from there. They looked more like hunters than military police, perhaps because they dealt more often with white bears and wolves than with people.
In fact, the Luska-Antwerp border guards were not as prominent as the Froiden-Antwerp or Latnum-Antwerp border guards in terms of size or influence. Deirdre knew that to maintain the high costs of this border defense, Christian had imposed an enormous tax on Count Rochepolie.
The men, seeing two people who obviously looked like nobles, saluted them with uncertain expressions. If they had been higher-ranking officers, they would have recognized Count Fairchild immediately, but his face wasn’t known to the average military police.
Looking at the military police, Deirdre said.
“Shouldn’t we meet the mayor first?”
“They’ll come to us once they know we’re here.”
The mayor of Wigmore was appointed by Count Rochepolie. However, as the city had been operating autonomously for years, the count mostly only collected taxes and didn’t involve himself in other matters. The border guard took care of security, largely because the cold and dull nature of Wigmore made it undesirable for the military police to be stationed there.
The buildings inside the city walls were neither large nor tall, and the streets were orderly, with a clear plan for the town. The Sulav man guided the two of them to a two-story building at the end of the main street.
A sign reading ‘Doctor’ was attached to the entrance.
As they entered the building, a plump middle-aged woman greeted them. She, too, was a Sulav person. She wore a white coat, showing her medical profession. She greeted them courteously.
“Welcome, Lord Rochepolie, Lady Rochepolie. Thank you for coming all the way here. I am Anya Petrova, a doctor. Please, just call me Anya.”
While women were not allowed to become doctors in Antwerp, the customs of the Sulav people seemed different.
Knowing that the time of the Count’s couple was valuable, Anya didn’t waste a moment. She pointed to a staircase on the opposite side of the building.
“I have something I would like to show you in the basement.”
She hesitated for a moment before continuing.
“…Lady Rochepolie, would you mind waiting upstairs for a moment?”
Deirdre hesitated before shaking her head.
“We’ve come all this way… I’d like to go down and see it too.”
The two Sulav people exchanged looks, and after a moment, Anya nodded reluctantly.
“Alright. The stairs are dark, so please be careful as you descend.”
With that, Anya led the way with a lantern, and Frederick guided Deirdre along behind her.
The steep wooden stairs seemed to lead directly down to the basement. The narrow passage made Deirdre’s cloak brush against the walls and stairs on both sides. The further they went down, the colder the air felt, and her ankles began to freeze.
But the tightening sensation in her chest was not just from the cold.
Deirdre asked,
“Anya, what’s down there?”
“You’ll find out once you get there.”
Frederick remained silent. Deirdre guessed he was too dull to imagine what they might see, and that’s why he appeared so calm.
The fact that the physician kept the thing in the basement, not in the medical room. The difficulty of bringing it all the way from Wigmore to the Count’s residence. And something that the Countess should not see.
She thought she knew what it was.
Finally, the three of them reached the basement. Anya spoke again.
“I’ll light the fire, please wait a moment.”
The lantern’s light disappeared into the dense darkness. Deirdre reached out and grasped her husband’s hand.
From somewhere, Anya’s voice came again.
“You mustn’t raise your voice in front of the deceased.”
At that moment, with the light Anya had lit, a pale shape suddenly appeared a few yards ahead. Deirdre sharply called out,
“Don’t look, Frederick!”
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