The lingering laughter in the room slowly fades, replaced by a much softer, more comfortable atmosphere. Mr. Lucius wipes a stray tear of mirth from his eye, his professional composure returning, though his expression remains kind.
"Well," the physician says, standing up and smoothing his robes, "if you are feeling well enough to argue, my Lady, I think I have done my job for the day. It is time for me to return to the palace."
Just as he turns to head toward the doorway, a soft, rhythmic knock sounds against the wood. We all pivot toward the door. A maid, whom I don't immediately recognize, stands there clutching a steaming bowl.
The Duke nods once, granting her silent permission. She steps into the room, her movements practiced and calm. She approaches the bed, pulls over a small side table, and sets down a bowl of warm, fragrant porridge. She serves it with a quick, respectful nod before backing out of the room.
Before I can even process the smell of the food, Lily steps forward. She reaches for the bowl, her eyes scanning the contents with the sharp, protective scrutiny of a hawk.
Everyone in the room—the Duke, Orlando, and even Mr. Lucius—watches Lily with undisguised surprise. The silence is thick with confusion.
"Lily?" I ask, my brow furrowed. "What is going on? Why did you have this prepared?"
Lily looks up, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips. "My Lady, I have served you since we were both children. I know your habits better than I know my own. I knew that when you finally woke from your eight-day slumber, you would be famished. So, when I went to fetch His Grace and the Young Master, I instructed another maid to prepare this porridge exactly according to the doctor's previous instructions."
I blink, stunned. "The doctor's instructions? But Lily, you went to get Father before Mr. Lucius even arrived today. How could you possibly know what he would recommend for my diet?"
I look from Lily to Mr. Lucius, seeking an explanation.
The physician chuckles softly, looking at Lily with a nod of genuine respect. "She is quite right, my Lady. You see, during the eight days you were asleep, I made daily visits to monitor your condition. And every single day, this young woman was waiting for me. She was relentless, asking me about your recovery, what specific nutrients you would need, which vegetables would be best for your digestion, and exactly how to prepare your first meal once you regained consciousness."
He turns back to me, his gaze softening. "She has been preparing for this moment since the day you fell ill, my Lady. It seems you have a very dedicated guardian in her."
I look at Lily, who is now busily testing the temperature of the porridge with a small silver spoon. My chest tightens with a sudden, unexpected swell of emotion. I had been so focused on navigating the Duke and the Duchess's schemes that I had almost forgotten that here, in the smallest corners of this house, there was someone who truly cared if I lived or died.
"I... I see," I murmur, my voice feeling strangely thick.
Lily offers me the spoon, her eyes bright with relief. "Eat, my Lady. You've been away from us far too long."
I take a slow, cautious bite from the spoon Lily holds out to me. The warmth of the porridge spreads through my chest, and the simple, clean flavor feels like a luxury after eight days of nothingness. A genuine smile tugs at my lips; the tension that had been locked in my muscles finally begins to thaw.
"That is... perfect, Lily. Thank you," I whisper, the simple act of eating making me feel more alive than I have in a week.
Mr. Lucius watches the scene for a moment, his professional curiosity satisfied. "It seems my instructions are in excellent hands. If you will excuse me, Your Grace, I have other rounds to make."
The Duke nods, his expression shifting back to his typical, imposing composure. "Of course. I will escort you out, Lucius." He turns his attention to me, his gaze softening just a fraction. "Rest well, Eleanor. I expect you to follow the doctor's advice to the letter."
He then glances over at his son. "Orlando, come. Leave your sister in peace; she requires quiet, not your restless pacing."
I watch as they depart, the heavy double doors clicking shut behind them. I have a fleeting thought that the Duke is likely intending to grill Mr. Lucius about the "mystery" of my coma, but I let the thought drift away. They can discuss my "condition" all they want; I know exactly what happened to my body, and I have no intention of letting their amateur medical theories interfere with my plans.
Orlando pauses by the bed before following his father. He glances at the bowl of porridge, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Well, look at that. You're finally eating like a proper lady. It seems you're learning, Eleanor. Keep this up, get some proper rest, and we shall talk later." He gives a short, dismissive wave and strides out after them.
The room finally falls into a peaceful quiet. Lily, however, is a flurry of activity, hovering over me with an expression of pure, unadulterated concern.
"My Lady, are you sure it's not too hot? Does it sit well? Are you feeling dizzy? Do you need more water?" she asks, her eyes wide as she checks my pillows and the blankets.
I gently reach out, catching her hand to stop the nervous energy. "Lily, please," I say, my voice warm. "Stop worrying yourself into a frenzy. You've been watching over me for eight days, you look as exhausted as I feel."
Her eyes well up with sudden, glassy tears, but she quickly wipes them away.
"I am fine, truly," I continue, giving her hand a firm squeeze. "I am just happy to see you. But you've done more than enough. Go to your own room, get some sleep, and take the rest of the day for yourself. I am safe here, and I am finally awake. That is all that matters."
Lily hesitates, looking like she wants to argue, but she eventually nods, a relieved smile finally breaking through her worry. " Are you certain, my lady?"
"I am certain," I say with a soft laugh. "Now, go. That is an order."