Chapter 7: The First Time the Husband Read the Medicine Log
It was on the third day after Noelia left that Gilbert finally picked up Lucy’s medicine log.
Normally, Noelia should have taken it with her.
What remained in the marquis house was merely an old copy.
It had been tucked deep inside a cabinet in the recuperation room of the south wing, wrapped in thin cloth beneath an unused herb box.
The one who found it was the maid Ada.
“It seems milady recorded absolutely everything.”
She spoke with faint sarcasm mixed into her voice.
Without replying, Gilbert opened the notebook.
Dates.
Body temperatures.
Meals.
Sleep.
Number of coughing fits.
Fireplace temperatures.
Cold drafts near the windows.
Medicine formulas.
Physician reports.
The small handwriting was arranged with perfect order.
[February 13th.
Fever during the night.
North wing guest room.
Fireplace sufficiently lit, but cold air rising from beneath the floor.
Breathing shallow.
Physician summoned.
Did not inform Lord Gilbert so as not to interfere with his work.]
Gilbert’s hand stopped.
Did not inform Lord Gilbert so as not to interfere with his work.
He remembered saying something like that.
There had been an important meeting in the royal capital the following morning.
Noelia had knocked on his bedroom door, saying Lucy’s fever would not go down.
He had answered, “Call a physician.”
And then he went back to sleep.
He slept.
While his daughter struggled to breathe.
The next page continued with even more detailed records.
[February 14th.
Fever reduced at dawn.
At breakfast, Lord Gilbert commented, “You exaggerated it.”
Lucy did not react to her father’s voice.
Severe exhaustion.]
Gilbert nearly shut the notebook.
He did not want to read anymore.
And yet he could not close it.
[March 2nd.
Lucy attempted to show her father a flower.
Lord Gilbert walked past due to guests being present.
Lucy dropped the flower.]
[April 17th.
Food intake low.
Holding a drawing made for her father’s birthday.
Lord Gilbert returned home too late to see it.]
[June 3rd.
Lucy asked, “Papa, do you know Lucy’s name?”
Unable to answer immediately.]
Gilbert sharply inhaled.
Had something like that really happened?
It must have.
Noelia had written it down.
Her records were excessively accurate.
She was the sort of woman who recorded even things unfavorable to herself without adding emotion.
For the first time, he spoke his daughter’s name aloud.
“Lucy.”
The sound felt unfamiliar.
Even though it was his own daughter’s name.
A knock sounded at the study door.
Steward Bolk entered.
“My lord, the court has delivered the visitation conditions.
A physician must be present, the meeting will be short, and it must take place within the greenhouse estate.
Additionally, if Lady Lucy refuses, the meeting will end immediately.”
“A child’s mood determines whether her father may see her?”
Gilbert replied reflexively.
But there was no strength in his voice.
Bolk continued calmly.
“We may argue that the mother has filled the child with hostility.”
“Hostility?”
“Yes.
It is unnatural for a young child to reject her father.”
Gilbert looked down at the medicine log.
The day Lucy tried to show him a flower, only for him to walk past.
The night she waited with a drawing in her hands.
The day she asked whether he even knew her name.
Was it really unnatural?
“Bolk.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Do you think Lucy likes me?”
The steward fell silent for a moment.
That silence itself was the answer.
Gilbert sank deeper into his chair.
Though the fireplace burned brightly, his back felt cold.
He had been angry at Noelia.
She had left despite being his wife.
She had failed to support her husband, disgraced the household, and dragged the court into their affairs.
That was what he had thought.
And yet the Lucy inside these records had looked toward her father over and over again.
He simply had never looked back.
From the recuperation room in the south wing came the sound of Lilia coughing.
Servants hurried through the halls in panic.
Gilbert opened the final page of the medicine log.
[To protect my daughter, I may one day need to make a decision.
I only pray that day never comes.]
That entry had been written before Noelia regained the memories of her previous life.
She had been hesitating all this time.
That day, Gilbert signed the visitation request for Lucy of his own accord for the very first time.
But the reason he wrote beside his signature was:
[To confirm my daughter’s health condition as her father.]
Not:
[To apologize to my daughter.]
He still did not know how to apologize.