"Hold still," Laikin said in a gentle tone. "I'm going to apply medicine."
The fire cast a comforting amber glow over the guest room. Dylan sat very still, listening to the whisper of the flames burning in the fireplace while she let the truth sink in. Edwin was sick.
Laikin unscrewed the cap of the ointment. "You know, you should probably write to your..." His voice trailed off when he looked up, and his eyes clouded over as he took in her appearance.
The top of her nightgown had been torn, so that her bare shoulders were revealed. He wanted to look at her for hours. At the way the light from the fireplace seemed to lightly graze her skin, and at the way her hair looked down around her bare shoulders.
"Why are you doing this yourself?" She leaned her head back against the chair, sighing in displeasure. "Any servant could've done so," she muttered under her breath.
"I wanted to," he said, dipping his finger into the jar of cream.
There were red marks like scratches across her chest. With more gentleness than she expected, Laikin spread the cool cream across her cuts. It stung and she winced more than once.
"I'm done." As he pulled his hand away, he realized that the tips of his fingers were tingling. "Do you feel uncomfortable anywhere?"
Dylan looked at him and shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Thank you."
His gaze met hers, and for a moment, silence enveloped the two. Something in her eyes tugged at his senses. This was driving him crazy.
After some time, he said, "Dylan."
"Mmm," she said, shutting her eyes. Her body was tired, her heart was tired, and she didn't have the energy right now to stay awake.
"I don't want to do the right thing—I want to tie you to me." Laikin rose from the chair and lumbered a couple of steps towards the bed, reached out, and picked up a blanket. "I don't want you to run away from me."
But Dylan didn't hear his words. She was already fast asleep in the chair, breathing very deeply. He dropped to his knees in front of the chair and covered her with the blanket.
Hovering above her face he whispered, "Everything is going to be fine. Stay just close enough to me, that, wherever I am, I can always see you smile."
He brushed golden hair back behind Dylan's ear and kissed her forehead softly. For a moment he watched her in silence. After what felt like an eternity, he stood up. He stretched out his arms and made his way to the door.
"I love you," he said loud enough so only he could hear. "I love you more than you could ever know."
He slipped out of the room and shut the door behind him.
***
Dylan struggled to open her eyes, the lids so very heavy. She was beyond groggy, her mind clouded with a heavy fog. Rubbing her eyes furiously, she forced them open.
'Where am I?'
Dylan sat up and winced at the bright sunlight streaming in through the open windows. For a moment she was disoriented. Glancing around the room, she suddenly remembered where she was.
'Oh, right. I'm at the Frederique estate.'
Gradually her half-opened eyes focused, and Dylan realized she had been sleeping on some sort of chair, and that someone was leaning over her.
"Laikin?" she murmured hoarsely.
"Lady Dylan, it's time to rise," a gentle voice said. "You've slept all day."
She sat up straighter in her seat, reality crashing over her.
The maid stepped back to give her space. "I'm sorry," she said, bowing her head politely. "My name is Katrina. I've brought you a meal, since it's well past lunchtime." She pointed at the breakfast on the table. "The chef here is excellent. Did you want anything in particular?"
"How's Edwin?" she asked.
Katrina shook her head. "I don't know, I'm sorry..."
She surged to her feet, determined to find him—or someone who knew about his condition—but pain suddenly erupted in her head and took over her body. She staggered on her feet.
"You should eat," Katrina said. "You must be famished."
Dylan allowed the maid to guide her, and help her settle into a chair by the table.
"I'll fetch you a dress," the maid said, setting out utensils for her to use. "Master Edwin wishes for you to eat, sleep and return safely home."
"So you spoke to him?"
The maid flinched. "That's..."
'Did Edwin tell everyone to keep quiet about his condition around me? Why is he trying to send me away?'
"That's okay, just wondering." Dylan picked up her fork to stab her food and paused to eye the maid expectantly. "Well?"
"Ah, my apologies!" The maid stuttered nervously. "I'll fetch the dress now."
'Why is she acting like she's hiding something?'
***
"Lunch is almost ready." Laikin plunged the cloth into the water, wringing it out with his hands. He laid the damp cloth on Edwin's forehead. "Do you think you can sit up to eat or would you rather lie still?"
"I can sit up." The old man chuckled. "I'm not as weak as you think."
Laikin frowned. "Do you really need to be prideful during a time like this?" An uncomfortable silence enveloped them, and Laikin could stand it no longer. "Grandfather." He decided to just be straight with him. "You're dying. You do understand, right?"
He smiled faintly up at his grandson. "Has it been done? The will?"
"Dylan will get full ownership over your business once you pass." Laikin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I'm surprised you're giving your blacksmith shops to her."
Edwin smiled. Despite his total lack of interest in the family businesses, his own business was a different story. Edwin treasured his blacksmith shops more than he treasured his own children. The fact that he was giving them to her showed that he treasured Dylan deeply.
"Dylan never had much happiness all her life long, and that grieves me," he whispered. Thinking back made him remember the times when Dylan was small. "I love her as if she were my own child."
"I know." He'd picked up the bowl filled with water and rested it on his open palm. "I also treasure her dearly."
"That's why this must happen." Edwin frowned, as if recalling something painful. "I'm sorry, Laikin."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You are to be engaged to Lady Lynette de Ruenz. The details have already been sorted out."
Laikin dropped the glass bowl and it shattered when it hit the floor. "W-what?"
His eyes widened, a look of betrayal flashing across his face. He loved Dylan, and his grandfather knew.
"What that child needs," he said softly, "is to not be tied down."
"How could you?" he shouted, angrily. "I love Dylan, grandfather."
"What she needs is not love, but freedom." He spoke coldly, and stared him sternly in the face. "That child has seen terrible things in life. The best thing you can do for her—is to let her go."
"Please," he begged, dropping to his knees. His voice was thick with grief. "You can't do this. How could you do this?"
Did he not know that he would have given up the company of anybody else on earth for five minutes of her time? Did he not know how far he went just to make sure she didn't get engaged to that Prince? Did he not know? How could he not know?
He didn't want anything else. He didn't want anybody else. Laikin was so deeply in love with her.
When Edwin remained cool and unaffected by his pleads, he stormed out of the room slamming the door open and shouting, "I won't stand for this! Father will surely listen to me!"
Edwin flinched when Laikin slammed the door shut behind him with a bang.
"Now that that's been dealt with..." His eyes turned to the chessboard in the corner of the room. "One more thing."
How could he deal with the Emperor; the man who poisoned him to threaten Dylan?
Edwin's dying wish was to set her free. Dylan—the small child who only knew pain and heartache—was no different than a prisoner shackled by heavy chains. He wanted her to smile. He wanted her to be happy. How could he leave this place knowing she was still suffering?
To him, Dylan was a precious existence. He had practically raised her alongside her mother, and he intended to spend all the time he had left here, until his last dying breath, ensuring her chains would be broken.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:
Sorry for the late update! I've been so busy with work.