The Serpent of Paradise - Chapter 12

Perhaps they had made some effort to prepare for Mikhail’s arrival, because the room prepared for him was spacious and clean. Anastasia lay on the bed that Mikhail himself should have been using. In the room were Mikhail, Yuri, and a maid who had been pushed in under the pretext that Anastasia couldn’t be left alone in a room with only men.

Yuri stood beside the bed and looked at Mikhail, who was watching Anastasia, with a gaze full of incomprehension.

He prided himself on having worked under Mikhail for quite a long time, but he had never seen him like this before.

‘Just during dinner, he looked ready to return to Sokolov immediately.’

Having worked under him for so long, Yuri could tell Mikhail’s mood from even the smallest movements. Mikhail had been extremely bored. So Yuri and Igor had assumed that he would abandon taking over the count’s house and Edenhurst and return to Sokolov the very next day.

And yet here he was, carrying a strange woman in his arms and even giving up his own bed.

‘Has anything like this ever happened before?’

Mikhail was quite sensitive about where he stayed. Not only in his residence in Sokolov, but even when staying elsewhere, he disliked strangers entering his space. So what in the world was this situation?

‘Could it be this is his type?’

Yuri craned his neck this way and that, trying to see Anastasia’s face. But Mikhail had pulled the blanket up over her, and the cushions piled around her as if to block the view prevented Yuri from seeing her clearly.

Noticing Yuri’s glances, Mikhail waved his hand dismissively and said, “Go out and bring Igor here quickly. What on earth is he doing that he’s so late?”

Yuri left the room without another word. Now only one maid remained. When Mikhail turned to look at her, she lowered her head deeply and stared only at the floor.

“Does Miss Anastasia always go around like this?”

“…I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I mean, does she always go around dressed like that, injuring her hands and feet?”

“…I don’t know.”

When the maid avoided answering, Mikhail stroked his chin and changed his question.

“How many years have you worked in this estate?”

“This is my sixth year.”

“Six years, and you don’t even know the young lady you serve. Useless.”

Though he spoke in a low voice, to the maid it sounded more frightening than a shouted reprimand. Not knowing what to do, she clutched her apron with trembling hands. When she had first entered the room, she had thought of him as merely a guest, yet now she was bowing her head more deeply than she ever did before the countess.

“Where is Miss Anastasia’s room?”

“The basement storage… ah!”

The maid blurted it out without thinking, then hurriedly shut her mouth. Mikhail didn’t press further. That alone was enough for him to understand. He pointed to the blood-stained cloths piled on a nearby table.

“Clear these away and bring new, clean ones.”

“Yes, yes!”

The words telling her to leave the room were more than welcome. Forgetting even the countess’s instruction to stay, the maid hastily gathered the soiled cloths, bowed repeatedly, and rushed out.

The room fell quiet once everyone had left. Mikhail stepped closer to the bed and looked down at Anastasia. Her long, tangled red hair covered her face, making it hard to see her properly. Without hesitation, he reached out and brushed her hair aside.

It was an exceedingly rude act, but he didn’t care.

“…So this is what you look like.”

Mikhail stared intently at the face he had been curious about a week ago. Anastasia’s first impression was that she was thin. Sunken eyes, hollow cheeks. Her pale skin, flushed with heat from her wounds, looked even more sickly. Even so, Mikhail didn’t take his eyes off her. He observed her more closely.

Long, fine eyelashes, a straight nose, and red lips. It was remarkable how such delicate features were neatly arranged on a face no bigger than his fist. He gathered a handful of her red hair lying on the pillow.

If someone had been watching, they would have been startled. In Novgod, hair was something permitted only between lovers or spouses. But Mikhail, with an indifferent expression, examined the hair in his hand and muttered, “A pretty color.”

Red hair wasn’t common in Novgod, but it wasn’t unheard of either. Still, hair this close to a wine-red shade was something even he had never seen before. Now it was dry and tangled, making it look unremarkable, but if it were combed smooth and given a healthy sheen… it would be quite beautiful.

For some reason, just imagining it pleased him, and he grasped the hair several more times. Holding it and touching it like a new toy, he soon realized something was lacking.

Mikhail’s gaze returned to Anastasia’s face.

“Her eyes were quite pretty.”

He wondered what felt missing, and it seemed he regretted not seeing those eyes again, the ones that had looked up at him in fear. Red hair and deep green eyes. It was like….

At that moment, hurried footsteps echoed from the corridor. Mikhail released the hair in his hand and stepped a few paces away from the bed.

A knock sounded, and the door opened. Igor entered, holding a small, sharp knife and a pair of tweezers.

“I’ve brought them.”

“Then treat her at once.”

Not long after Igor entered, maids followed, carrying hot water, a lamp, and clean cloths.

Igor pulled over a small stool and placed it beside the bed, then instructed the maids to set the lamp nearby and sterilized the small knife he had brought in the flame. Sitting on the stool, he pulled Anastasia’s hand out from beneath the blanket and grumbled, “I never thought I’d be using my medical license for this.”

“What a fine thing. You get to lend a hand when it’s needed most. Don’t you make a vow like that when you take the medical exam?”

At Mikhail’s casual remark, Igor’s mouth fell open. The reason he, Mikhail’s secretary, had taken the exam and obtained a medical license was because Mikhail and those around him were often injured in disputes over port interests. When even the doctor they had urgently summoned turned out to have been bribed by their opponents, Mikhail had said,

“Then it’d be better if one of us became a doctor.”

Then he shot the doctor in the head on the spot. In any case, that was how Igor ended up having to obtain a medical license.

With others present, Igor gave up on lecturing Mikhail further and focused on his task. He brought the lamp closer, then, using a magnifying glass he had somehow acquired, examined Anastasia’s hand.

“As expected.”

“Why? What’s the problem?”

“They’re cuts from glass shards. And there are still pieces embedded.”

“Then doesn’t it hurt?”

Mikhail frowned. He recalled grabbing an attacker in Sokolov by the head and slamming him straight into a glass window. He didn’t care that the man had injured his neck, but at the time, Mikhail himself had gotten his hands scratched and pierced by glass, and it had irritated him quite a bit.

“It hurts. From the look of it, they’re already starting to close, so I’ll have to reopen them and remove the pieces.”

Igor fell silent, then carefully reopened Anastasia’s wounds with the sterilized knife.

“Ugh….”

As if feeling the pain, a groan escaped Anastasia’s lips and she tried to twist her body. When Igor hesitated because of it, Mikhail grabbed Anastasia’s arm firmly and said, “Keep going.”

“Y-Yes.”

Igor’s eyes said to Mikhail:

You do realize this is extremely improper, right? She may be adopted, but she still bears the Lauderdale name!

Mikhail answered with his eyes:

Do your job.

Igor was a diligent secretary who followed orders well. And he also felt some pity for Anastasia, so he worked as carefully as possible, examining her hands and removing the remaining shards. There weren’t many, and none were large, but they must have stung the whole time they were embedded.

As Igor wiped away the blood with the cloths the maids had brought, Mikhail asked again, “What about her foot? Do we not need to look at it?”

“It’s in worse condition than her hands. There’s nothing to cut out, but this will need medicine. Fortunately, it’s still at a stage where medicine can work. If a few more days had passed… you know what that means.”

Igor made a gesture with his hand, as if slicing something off.

It was common for those who didn’t receive treatment in time to lose limbs. Mikhail’s gaze fell on the thin ankle protruding from beneath the blanket.

‘Good thing it didn’t come to that.’

At that moment, there was a brief commotion in the corridor, and the countess, Elizabeth, and Catherine entered. It seemed they had composed themselves beforehand, because the flustered expressions they had worn earlier were gone, leaving only concerned looks on their faces. Catherine, however, seemed to have been scolded, as she couldn’t quite hide her slightly pouting lips.

“I was worried we would have to summon a doctor in haste, so I am truly grateful to receive such help.”

Though there was not the slightest trace of sincerity in the countess’s words, Mikhail replied with an easy smile, “There’s no need for thanks. It’s an honor for us to be able to help like this.”

Noticing Elizabeth’s gaze fixed on Anastasia, Mikhail spoke first, before the countess or her daughters could say anything.

“My secretary Igor is also a renowned doctor in Sokolov. He will remain here with the maids until your daughter regains consciousness, so it would be best if we moved to another room and continued our conversation. Then….”

Turning his back to the countess, Mikhail mouthed the words.

Thirty rubles.

It was the amount of extra pay meant to appease Igor’s grumbling. Thirty rubles was close to Igor’s monthly salary. Igor decided to bargain while he had the chance.

Fifty rubles.

As his lips silently formed the words, Mikhail let out a short laugh and patted Igor’s shoulder. His lips moved again.

One hundred rubles.

Mikhail tapped Igor’s shoulder.

“Then I’ll leave her in your care, Igor.”

With that, Mikhail immediately turned and left the room with the countess. Left alone in the room with the maids, Igor stared blankly at Mikhail’s retreating back.

It was the first time Mikhail had ever increased the amount himself after a deal had already been settled.