Trashes of the Counts' Families || Trash of the Count's Family || OC

52

Adara apologised to Cale after she returned the communication device to the mage. Apologised for having such a discussion in front of him. If she was honest, she had forgotten he was there.

Cale didn't care; he simply waved it off.

That was a few moments ago. Adara was now writing the letters she needed to send to all those Nobles who had approached her, wanting an in on the poison deals she had made with their enemies. She was multitasking, however, as she was also reading Sadie's report on the Poison Department, Rory's report on Administration, Madelynne's report on Finance, Sadie's small, private reports on Rory and her brother, Mikhail, and Sadie's longer report on Countess Louise.

There was a lot to do. And she was nowhere done with the pile of things she needed to have done. Technically, of course, she could just not do it. She was in the Palace under the guise of being injured. Of course, she wasn't actually sick. And she did need to have a few things done. She also needed to call Sadie.

She sighed, her head in her hands. She didn't want to call Sadie. She would do it tomorrow. Sadie would understand.

Adara looked back at the letter she had started writing, but the words were blurring, and her head hurt. She got up from her seat, walked to the window and opened it.

Then she started pacing the room. Cale gave her a concerned look, but he did not say anything.

Then the same mage came back in, still shy as before, a communication device stretched out to Cale. "The, uh, Young Master's father is on the line." The mage gave Adara a concerned look as well but also said nothing.

Cale took the communication device from the mage. The mage left just as quietly as before.

And then Count Henituse's voice echoed around the room. He was going on a rant about how he was going to go to the Capital, going to go all the way down to the Palace to demand why the mages were not doing their jobs, and on and on.

Cale— somehow— convinced him not to march down to the Capital to interrogate the King.

Adara walked to the bookshelf, listening to Count Henituse go on another tirade with fast questions about how Cale was without letting him answer them.

Adara started to rearrange the bookshelf in alphabetical and genre order. She felt like she needed to do something, but she wanted a small break from her work. And, unlike the speculative and conjectural nature of political matters, she actually could see the immediate results of how she rearranged the bookshelf.

It was such a simple and repetitive task that she did it with ease. Her headache was still there, but it was less as she had a break from her mentally draining pile of work on the desk they had in their room.

The chaos of the bookshelf had also unnerved her as she could not find a book of the same genre from the same place she got the first book. But now it was organised. She turned around, trying to find something else to do, but she heard her name.

"Where is Adara, actually? I have not seen her— is she alright?" Count Henituse asked.

Cale nodded. "Yes, she is fine." He sent her a fast look, wondering if she wanted him to lie about her being there.

Adara did not respond, she simply walked to the bed he was lying in. Count Henituse was on the screen, a bright look on his face when he saw her. "Good afternoon, Count Henituse," she greeted him.

He smiled at her. "Do not be so formal with me, Adara. How was your sleep? Are you eating properly? Are they giving you food of the highest quality? Any injuries they've failed to heal? Is your mental state good as well? Any recurring nightmares of that ghastly mage? Are you sure you aren't injured from the attack? Have you been examined by a Priest?"