"...Dismiss me?"
"Yes," the butler nodded, and there was not a trace of leniency in his voice. "A few days ago, Her Grace was indeed determined to do just that. It happened right after your last visit... But I managed to persuade her and talk her out of that decision."
"..."
"And do not think I did it for your sake," he grunted shortly. "It is simply that there is no other healer in this house capable of replacing you. So such a decision would have been too hasty and, frankly, unwise."
I listened to him to the end and exhaled quietly, feeling everything inside me grow heavy.
"...Mr. Gerald, I need to speak with Her Grace."
"I cannot help you," he cut off, not even looking at me. "You will have to wait until Her Grace cools down and decides to receive you herself."
These words stirred a new wave of indignation within me.
"Are you serious? Are you really just going to stand by and watch her get worse?!"
At that moment, the kettle finally boiled, and a thin, hissing stream of steam escaped from the spout. The butler calmly poured the boiling water over the herbs, then finally raised his heavy gaze to me. Beneath his thick brows, his eyes seemed particularly stern.
"Miss Rider," he said coldly, "that is Her Grace’s will. And until she changes her decision, this entire house is obliged to obey it."
"Even if it is to Her Grace’s own detriment?"
For a moment, something flickered in his face — very faintly, almost imperceptibly. But then his expression became stern again.
"I have already told you," he said slowly, "you are overstepping the bounds of your duties. You are an invited healer, nothing more. Do not meddle in matters that do not concern you."
I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms.
I could no longer listen to this.
I could no longer just stand by and watch Kayla continue to close herself off and slowly fade away.
And it seemed that if words could not change anything... I would have to act differently.
Involuntarily, my gaze slid from the butler’s face to the stairs leading to the second floor. Up there, a semi-dark doorway darkened, where almost no candles burned.
If I thought about it, at such a late hour, there should be no one up there. The servants had long finished their work and gone to their rooms. That meant... apart from me and this stubborn old man, there was truly no one else here. And perhaps this was my only chance.
Although I had not originally intended to break into Kayla’s room by force... what else was I supposed to do now? Wait for her to "cool down"? No way!
Butler Gerald followed my gaze and, it seemed, understood everything immediately. His face became even sterner.
"Do not even think about it," he warned.
"..."
"You have no right to enter Her Grace’s chambers without permission!"
I remained silent, but judging by his expression, even that was enough to put him on alert.
"What?" He narrowed his eyes. "Did you really think that because the servants have gone, you could get through unopposed?" A dry chuckle flickered in his voice. "Do not forget that I am still here."
"..."
"Do not underestimate an old man," he continued, straightening up. "I assure you, you would be surprised."
I paused for a moment, assessing his words without emotion.
It was possible that the butler’s words were not just bravado... Although he looked as if he should have been in his grave long ago, his build remained quite robust — broad shoulders, sinewy arms, a sharp gaze. In his youth, he must have been not just a servant but perhaps a warrior or a bodyguard. He could probably give even a young fighter a run for his money if it came to a fight.
And yet...
"Physically, you might be able to stop me," I said calmly, looking him straight in the eye, "but what about your speed?"
"What?" The old man frowned, clearly not catching my meaning.
"At your age..." I paused slightly, "Mr. Gerald, can you really keep up with me?"
"...You! You!" He flared up so sharply that for a moment, it seemed his patience was about to snap. "How dare you challenge an old man?!"
"I am sorry, but you leave me no choice. I must see Her Grace. And you will not stop me."
Genuine irritation flared in his gaze — and in that same instant, I knew I could not hesitate any longer. He was already about to move, to intercept me, to hold me back.
But I was faster.
The moment he hesitated for a fraction of a second — realizing that I truly would not back down — I suddenly bolted from my spot and dashed toward the stairs. Toward the steps leading to the second floor, toward Kayla’s room. My heart beat so loudly it drowned out everything else, but my legs did not stop.
"...Miss Rider! How dare you!" came his indignant voice from behind me. "Stop immediately! That is an order! You are breaking every rule of this house!"
But I did not stop. I flew up the stairs, skipping steps, grabbing the banister, and feeling the old man trying to catch up from behind, but his steps were already falling behind, his breathing growing ragged. Age was finally taking its toll.
"I am sorry, Mr. Gerald!" I shouted back without turning around. "But I am going to do this even if I am dismissed tomorrow!"
Reaching the second floor, I did not slow down and headed straight down the corridor to Kayla’s room. Everything inside me clenched with tension, and only one thought pounded in my head: I had to see her. Now. At any cost!
I pushed the door open abruptly and burst inside.
The room greeted me with a dense, almost tangible darkness. Even the night gloom outside the mansion seemed less thick than this silence within.
And only my noisy breath disturbed it... after which something in the depths of the room stirred almost imperceptibly.
"...What? What the hell is going on?" came Kayla’s weakened but still sharp voice from the bed. There was fatigue in it, but irritation quickly broke through.
"...Your Grace!" I exclaimed, barely holding back the tremor in my voice.
"You..." The moment she recognized me by my voice, even more displeasure immediately flared in her tone. "Who allowed you to come here? GERALD!"
Not even a few seconds passed before the door burst open again, and the butler practically stumbled into the room, breathing heavily. He could barely stand after the run, his face was red, and a deep furrow of irritation had settled between his brows.
"F-forgive me, my lady..." he exhaled, leaning against the doorframe. "Miss Rider... I could not stop her..."
Kayla exhaled slowly, and in that exhale there was more weariness than anger.
"Get her out of here immediately," she ordered coldly.
"Yes, my lady!" The butler immediately straightened up and, despite his fatigue, resolutely headed toward me.
But before his hands could grab me, I darted aside. I dodged, slipped out of his grasp, and in almost two steps, I was closer to the bed.
Even closer.
So close that she could feel my presence even through the blindfold.
"...Your Grace, please listen to me!" I blurted out.
"I do not want to talk to you," Kayla cut off immediately, turning toward the wall.
"But it is important!" I was almost begging. "It will only take a few minutes... five. Even less!"
Kayla exhaled heavily. The sound was almost strained, as if even just reacting cost her effort. Her body was clearly exhausted — after several days without purification, the pain had returned, and now every little thing came to her with difficulty. She sat propped up on pillows, her shoulders slumped, her breathing uneven.
"I am not interested..." she said quietly, and her voice carried weariness mixed with irritation, "in what you have to say. Leave."
"Your Grace," I clenched my fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms, "I am going to speak with you anyway. And I will not leave until you listen to me. You can throw me out as many times as you want — I will come back!"
While I was speaking, the butler continued trying to pull me out of the room. He tugged at my arm, tried to drag me to the door, but I resisted as best I could, grabbing onto the edge of the furniture and not letting myself be moved.
"Damn..." Kayla tiredly ran her hand over her face, brushing aside the sticky crimson strands from her forehead. "Why are you so stubborn...?"
"I already told you," I answered firmly, not looking away, "I am not leaving!"
I continued to resist desperately for a while longer — struggling, pulling back, trying again to break free from the butler’s tenacious grip as he, breathing heavily, persistently dragged me toward the door. This was no longer just an attempt to stop me — it was more like a real endurance contest.
And at that moment, when my stubbornness had almost reached its limit, Kayla finally gave in.
"...All right," came her tired, strained voice. "Gerald, leave us."
"But, my lady...!" The butler froze, clearly unwilling to obey.
"If she wants this so badly," Kayla paused, as if each word cost her effort, "I will listen to her. But no more than five minutes. After that — she leaves."
Butler Gerald, though clearly displeased, reluctantly released his grip on my elbow. He stepped back, his whole demeanor expressing his disagreement.
"My lady," he bowed, "I will be outside the door. Call me if you need me."
Kayla nodded almost imperceptibly.
The door closed quietly.
We were alone.
Silence. Darkness. And only breathing — hers, heavy and uneven, and mine, still agitated.
"Well..." Kayla turned her head toward me. "What was it you wanted to say so badly?"
"I..." And at that moment, all the resolve with which I had burst in here suddenly seemed to crumble. I stood in the middle of the room, fidgeting with the hem of my dress, unable to find the right words. "I..."
"Speak," her voice grew harsher. Irritation flickered in it, mixed with weariness. "Or I will just throw you out of here. Because of you, my head is starting to hurt again."
I swallowed and, gathering the last of my courage, blurted everything out at once:
"Your Grace... those words I said last time... I did not mean them that way at all! I did not want to offend or hurt you!"
"..."
"I was very worried that you might have misunderstood me, so I came... to apologize! I truly did not mean anything bad, I swear!"
I fell silent, feeling my throat tighten with tension. A heavy, thick silence hung in the room.
And then Kayla said quietly:
"...I do not need your apologies."
"Wh-what?.." I was taken aback.
"Why apologize if you were telling the truth?" Her voice was even, almost without emotion. "You, like everyone else, actually think exactly that way."
"No, that is not true...!"
"Do not make excuses," she interrupted, and a bitter smirk appeared in her tone. "I know my situation perfectly well myself. I know who I am now. I know what people say about me behind my back... So your words — whether apologies or accusations — will change nothing."
She paused for a moment and added more quietly:
"Actually... it is even better that you said it directly. I hate hypocrites more than anything."
"Your Grace, I..."
No, that was not how it was supposed to be.
I had come here to make things right...
So why did it feel like everything had only gotten worse?!
"To be honest, I think so too. There is no point in wasting treatment and resources on a wretch like me. Hiring you in the first place... was a mistake."
"..."
"I will just die quietly and end all of this once and for all."
I could not believe what I was hearing.
These words — cold, desperate, thoroughly soaked in weariness — pierced my chest like red-hot needles. And yet Kayla spoke them so calmly, as if she were talking about something long since decided. That only made it worse.
My heart clenched so tightly that for a second I could not breathe. This was not anger — it was despair that made everything inside me tremble.
I clenched my fists tightly. My nails dug into my palms, but the pain helped me stay in place and not lose control.
"I already told Gerald to dismiss you," Kayla continued, as if not noticing my state. "But that old man is stubborn... So I will say it again. You are dismissed. I no longer need your treatment."
"..."
"Why are you silent?"
Kayla frowned — the room grew even quieter for a moment.
"...You no longer need my treatment?" I repeated, my voice trembling.
"Exactly," she cut off. "Leave. Now."
"But..." I swallowed. "Your Grace... I cannot do that."
"...What?" She clearly had not expected this.
"I said I am not leaving!"
I took a step forward.
Without thinking, without allowing myself to doubt.
"...What are you doing?" Kayla tensed sharply and waved her hand in front of her, as if trying to push me away. "Do not come closer! I said — leave!"
"..."
"Do not even dare do anything!" Her voice grew harsher, but tension clearly slipped into it.
For a moment, I swallowed and froze, looking at her face. So beautiful, noble, with chiseled cheekbones and pale skin — and at the same time, greatly emaciated by illness. But she was still beautiful. My Kayla. Even now — sick, blind, broken — she shone for me brighter than all the stars in the sky.
And in the end, I made my decision.
I had no other choice.
In truth, performing the purification did not necessarily require touching the forehead area. Divine power could be transmitted through any physical contact.
That was enough.
And so...
While her hand was once again cutting through the air to push me away, I took one final step forward.
And before Kayla Regwerd could react in any way, I cupped her face in my hands and, closing my eyes, kissed her.