The single word "Aunt" made Vaelen’s brows knit together instantly.
"If we’re speaking of satisfaction," Elysia continued calmly, "then yes. This marriage was something I requested myself."
She looked at him evenly.
"I got exactly what I wanted, so naturally I’m pleased."
A faint pause followed.
"Surely Your Highness isn’t asking questions when you already know the answer."
The words struck Vaelen like a thorn.
His chest tightened abruptly, and a violent fit of coughing escaped him before he could stop it.
Elysia stepped backward immediately.
Not out of concern.
Simply to avoid being affected.
Once enough distance separated them, she said coolly, "If Your Highness remains unwell, then you should drink more medicine and rest properly."
Then she inclined her head politely.
"I still need to pay my respects to Her Majesty."
Without waiting for his response, she turned and left with Miriam and Clara behind her.
Vaelen stood frozen beneath the corridor.
The lingering scent of her sleeves faded slowly into the wind.
For some reason, the emptiness she left behind felt strangely unbearable.
While Elysia remained inside with the Queen, the King arrived shortly after court ended.
The moment he saw her, his expression brightened visibly.
As it turned out, the ministers praised him repeatedly throughout the morning because of this marriage.
In Aveanlor, the civil officials and military generals rarely agreed on anything.
Minor arguments occurred almost daily.
Major disputes erupted every few weeks.
Yet for the very first time, both sides praised the same imperial decision unanimously.
Naturally, the King found himself in excellent spirits.
Taking advantage of his good mood, Queen Ilara suggested that Elysia stay behind for the noon meal.
Elysia accepted politely.
By the time she returned to Draevenor Manor, the sun already stood high overhead.
The moment she entered the courtyard, she spotted Bran leading two young attendants toward the main residence.
In his hands rested a wooden tray carrying a dark stoneware medicine pot.
A familiar herbal fragrance drifted faintly through the air.
It was the same scent lingering around Cassiel last night.
Elysia stopped.
"What’s happening?"
Bran answered honestly, "My lady, it’s time for His Grace to take his medicine."
Elysia’s gaze fell toward the tray.
Bran immediately added carefully, "My lady should wait outside for a while. Once we’ve finished feeding His Grace, we’ll come out again."
He hesitated slightly.
"Given His Grace’s condition... administering medicine is rather difficult."
Elysia spoke lightly.
"I’ll go inside with you."
Bran froze completely.
"With us?"
She nodded calmly.
"Yes."
Then she added matter-of-factly:
"I am his lawful wife. Taking care of him is naturally my responsibility."
Her expression remained calm and steady.
"I’ll observe today. From now on, I can handle these matters myself."
Hearing these words, Bran felt deeply moved.
Still, as they walked toward the chamber, he couldn’t help warning her quietly:
"My lady, His Grace has no awareness at all right now. He cannot swallow medicine himself."
Bran frowned.
"Sometimes even after we force it down, he spits most of it back out."
His expression turned slightly awkward.
"It... isn’t a pleasant sight."
Elysia listened quietly without changing expression.
Clearly, she had not taken the warning to heart at all.
Bran sighed inwardly.
He could only hope the Duchess would not become disgusted once she witnessed everything personally.
Inside the chamber, the two attendants carefully lifted Cassiel’s upper body slightly.
Bran poured medicine from the stoneware pot into a smaller bowl before sitting beside the bed.
Using a spoon, he scooped half a mouthful and brought it toward Cassiel’s lips.
Cassiel remained motionless.
One of the attendants stepped forward and forced his jaw open carefully.
Only then could Bran pour the medicine inside.
Yet moments later, dark liquid spilled slowly from the corners of Cassiel’s mouth again.
The medicine soaked into his robes immediately.
Bran continued patiently.
Half the medicine went down.
Half spilled back out.
After watching quietly for a while, Elysia finally turned away.
Bran glanced toward her instinctively.
So even the Duchess could not endure seeing His Grace like this.
That thought filled him with quiet disappointment.
Meanwhile, Elysia remained completely unaware of what he assumed.
Facing away from the bed, she calmly rolled up both sleeves.
Only then did she turn back around.
"Bran."
Her expression grew serious.
"The way you’re feeding him now wastes more than half the medicine."
She extended a hand toward him calmly.
"Give me the bowl."
Bran blinked in surprise.
So she hadn’t turned away out of disgust?
She truly intended to feed His Grace personally?
After several stunned moments, Bran finally rose and handed her the bowl.
"My lady," he said quickly, "we’ll withdraw immediately."
Elysia looked confused.
"Withdraw?"
Bran nodded solemnly.
"You’re about to feed His Grace medicine. If we remain here, wouldn’t it embarrass Your Grace?"
Elysia stared at him blankly.
"Feeding medicine is a perfectly proper matter," she said slowly. "Why would I be embarrassed?"
Bran scratched awkwardly at his head.
"Aren’t you planning to feed His Grace mouth-to-mouth?"
Elysia froze completely.
Mouth-to-mouth?
For an instant, an image flashed uncontrollably through her mind—
Holding medicine between her lips.
Leaning close to Cassiel.
Touching his mouth with hers.
Heat rushed violently into her cheeks.
She immediately asked sharply:
"Who told you unconscious people must be fed that way?"
Bran answered honestly.
"The storybooks all say so."
Elysia fell silent.
Then she said flatly:
"You do realize storybooks aren’t real."
Bran blinked innocently with his one remaining eye.
Elysia suddenly felt exhausted.
Why exactly was she arguing with him?
Taking a slow breath, she calmed herself before speaking again.
"Stories are stories. Feeding medicine is feeding medicine."
"There is absolutely no need for mouths to touch."
Then she instructed:
"Go find a thin wooden strip. About this wide."
She gestured briefly with her fingers.
"Smooth the edges carefully so there are no splinters. Wash it thoroughly before bringing it back."
Bran obeyed immediately despite not understanding at all.
Soon afterward, he returned carrying the requested wooden strip.
Elysia directed the attendants to place another cushion beneath Cassiel’s head before gently slipping one end of the wooden strip between his lips.
Then she slowly poured medicine along the wood.
The liquid slid smoothly downward into Cassiel’s throat.
Very little spilled this time.
Bran’s eyes widened instantly.
"So medicine can be administered this easily?"
Elysia snorted softly.
"Read fewer storybooks."
Bran laughed sheepishly before leaning closer curiously.
"My lady, how did you know this method?"
Elysia focused calmly on feeding the medicine.
"My grandfather practiced medicine," she explained. "I grew up watching him treat patients."
Then she added thoughtfully:
"This wooden strip is only a temporary solution. There are proper feeding instruments designed specifically for unconscious patients. They’re much more convenient."
Bran looked astonished.
"So that’s how it is."
Soon, the first bowl emptied completely.
Bran hurried to refill it enthusiastically.
As Elysia watched him leave, however, a strange thought suddenly surfaced in her mind.
Cassiel remained under the care of royal physicians.
Logically speaking, anything her grandfather knew, those physicians should know as well.
So why had nobody at Draevenor Manor ever been taught proper feeding methods before?
Elysia lowered her gaze slowly toward Cassiel’s sleeping face.
His features remained impossibly handsome even now.
A quiet unease rose inside her chest.
Could it be...
That winning too many battles also created too many enemies?
"My lady."
Bran returned carrying the remaining half bowl of medicine.
Elysia pulled herself from her thoughts and accepted it quietly.
She continued feeding Cassiel carefully.
Then suddenly, Bran asked from beside her:
"My lady... later we’ll need to change His Grace’s clothes and wipe down his body."
He hesitated awkwardly.
"Will you also stay and watch that?"