I Will Be the Greatest Knight-Chapter 439: Worry

Irene’s heart was thudding in anticipation and worry as she stepped into the room. Her eyes settled on the bed where the head maid, Ingrid, was standing at the Commander’s bedside, cleaning off his shirtless body.

Not just shirtless, Irene realized as she stepped into the room, he was unconscious. He was lying on his stomach with his head facing right.

At Irene entering the room, the maid stood up.

"Oh, dear," she gasped. "I didn’t realize you were returning, Lady Irene. Perhaps we should get out of the Duke’s room. I’m not sure he would appreciate waking up to us looming over him. His condition has been bad."

Even though it was difficult to pull her eyes from the Commander, Irene turned to the maid.

"If you wouldn’t mind, I would like to sit here for a few moments," Irene uttered, her voice uncertain but her expression resolute.

Ingrid seemed to size her up for a few moments, but didn’t find anything wrong because she relented.

"Here you go, my lady," the woman responded as she discarded the soiled cloths in a bin and then pulled one of the armchairs from the side of the room a bit closer.

"Thank you," Irene responded and sat down heavily, her eyes returning to the man she had been so eager to see.

She hardly noticed Ingrid tidying up a few more things before exiting the room entirely.

"What happened to you?" she whispered as she leaned into her hands, covering the lower half of her face.

The hope of getting answers about all the things she had been contemplating for the past couple of months was dashed. She went from one sick person, where her father was, only to return to the Commander in much worse condition. 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

Admittedly, she had wanted his comfort and to vent about what was happening to her father. It seemed that it wasn’t the time or the place.

Soon, it wasn’t enough to merely sit by and watch him sleep. Irene stood up from the chair and walked forward. She anxiously sighed as she kneeled next to his large bed.

Why was there so much blood on Siverly before? There was a tinge of blood she could still smell. It was mixed with an awful, rotted sort of smell as well. Admittedly, it smelled like death and reminded her of war.

Now that she was closer, she could see in more detail the blood that was still left on him. She could also see that there was a bit of black around his mouth.

Her eyebrows lowered. All she could think of was the poison that affected all of them only a couple of short years before. It caused her to stand up, alarmed that this was where her mind was going.

It caused her to regard him more carefully. She noticed that there were purplish grey veins leaving the freshly healed scar on his back. The veins were present in other places on his body, but concentrated closest to the scar. His skin seemed more dull than it usually was.

Unwilling to leave him lying there with blood and the black substance on him, she went towards his bathroom, where a pitcher of water was sitting on a stove. She wet one of his unused towels and brought it back to the older knight.

Her touch was gentle as she cleaned the rest of the blood and black substance. She did everything she could to not wake him, even though she had seen sleeping spells in the past and wondered if that’s what it was.

If that were the case, there was no way he would wake up from something like that.

She then discarded the towel once satisfied with how clean he was and washed her hands in the basin in his bathroom.

The last few steps back to his bed were slow before she fell to the floor and kneeled next to him again. At least he was breathing evenly. That in itself was a good sign.

Daring for more, Irene reached out a cautious hand and brushed some of his dark hair from his face. A better view confirmed that he certainly was pale. He was devoid of the bronzed color that made her eyes always seem to follow him.

But now that she thought about it, had his eyes followed her as well? Did he notice her before she could realize? She was so different looking from him, with constellations of freckles all over her body that only got worse when she was in the sun. Her hair was bright and hard to tame, while his was dark and so unbelievably soft.

For some reason, a lump formed in her throat as she looked at him. Her hand kept gently brushing his hair as she tried to comfort him, even if it was completely lost on him.

"Could you love me?" she desperately wondered. "What happened to you?"

Everything felt so heavy. The burden of her father weighed heavily on her a lot already. Seeing Henry, the one she hoped to run to and feel comforted, only burdened her more. She knew it was selfish to expect him to make her smile as he had before at the banquet, but it was a feeling she had craved since the moment it ceased.

Now that she was realizing her true feelings for him, seeing him this way made her heart ache. Again, it felt like two halves of her heart were in different parts of Chemois, and she was balancing worrying about both of them equally.

With nothing more she could do, Irene scooted backward until she met the table sitting at the side of his bed. Her hand remained on the bed as if to make sure he was still there.

She was starting to feel heavy with exhaustion, and she reasoned that she could close her eyes for just a moment and wake up before he could.

However, she had certainly misjudged her exhaustion. Dusk fell in the room before she even stirred.

And she only began to wake up when she felt movement on the bed that caused her hand to fall.

As she opened her eyes, Irene’s green orbs met Henry’s dark ones.

"I-Irene," the Commander whispered, reaching a shaky hand forward.

His hand met her cheek, and she placed her hand over his. This was closer to the reunion she hoped to have with him upon her arrival.