Seeing that Riley, though foolish, was at least quiet and obedient, Arthur only sighed in disappointment. He took Adrian to the study, while Riley was led away to another room.
"As per usual, Master Adrian will stay here tonight," the maid, Clara Hayes said coldly. "This is your room. Look around if you want—but don't touch anything. If you break something, you won't be able to afford it."
Her tone carried open disdain, even a hint of resentment.
Riley understood immediately—another one standing up for their "precious" Master Adrian.
Still… wasn't this room a little too far from the main hall?
Do they have to make it this obvious?
Clara watched Riley walk inside without a word of thanks, irritation flaring.
"A fool really is a fool. Not even a simple 'thank you.' I have no idea what kind of bad luck our Master Adrian had to marry someone like you."
Her gaze swept over Riley's outfit—designer, clearly from a recent collection—and jealousy flickered in her eyes.
Riley turned back, blinking innocently. "Well, what can you do? You weren't lucky enough to marry your Master Adrian."
She tilted her head, voice light but sharp.
"And you don't have to keep calling me a fool. I haven't complained about him practically being on his deathbed—what right does he have to look down on me? We're about even."
"You—!" Clara nearly exploded, face flushed with anger, but she couldn't find a single word to refute her. She could only glare. "How dare you curse Master Adrian? Believe it or not, I'll tear your mouth apart!"
Riley stuck her tongue out at her. "Go ahead. Try me."
Back in the living room, she'd already noticed Clara's strange behavior—her eyes glued to Adrian, occasionally shooting daggers at her.
So obvious.
She's into him.
Riley couldn't help but think, He's in a wheelchair and still attracting admirers… impressive.
"You—! You've gone too far!" The maid rolled up her sleeves, clearly ready to lunge at her.
But just then, chaos erupted outside.
"Clara! Mrs Hales isn't going to make it! Mr Hales said everyone needs to gather in the front courtyard—to see her one last time!"
The young maid who shouted didn't even wait for a response before running off.
Clara clicked her tongue in annoyance. "She's just a servant. If she's going to die, then just get it over with. Why make such a fuss?"
Still muttering under her breath, she dropped her sleeves and hurried out, shooting Riley one last vicious glare.
"You just wait. I'll deal with you later."
With Walter Hales's order, no one dared disobey. One by one, they rushed toward the front courtyard.
Riley frowned.
Someone's dying?
She grabbed a passing maid. "What happened to Mrs Hales? What kind of illness is this serious?"
Riley was a doctor—she couldn't help asking.
The maid, unfamiliar with Riley, glanced at her elegant clothes and assumed she was a guest. She answered quickly while still moving.
"Last month, Mrs Hales climbed a ladder to clean the lamps and fell. A rusty nail pierced into her thigh—close to a major artery. The doctors don't dare operate. They said if they try to remove it, she might bleed out immediately."
The maid's eyes reddened.
"So they've just… left it there. It got infected. It's been rotting inside her. She probably can't hold on anymore."
She swallowed hard, voice trembling.
"Mrs Hales is only in her forties. She practically raised Master Adrian… He must be devastated. These past few weeks, he's been searching everywhere for doctors."
"But they all said the same thing."
"There's nothing they can do."