During these few days of treatment, Rigel’s complexion had gained some color. Tessa treated me like an honored guest, pleased by the progress.
But I had stumbled upon an unexpected and unfortunate truth.
Rigel’s coma didn’t seem to be caused by any illness. My diagnosis revealed that his physical condition had already recovered.
The problem lay within his heart; there was an emptiness, something that no medicine could heal. What he lacked was fate.
I pondered deeply, as though something divine was guiding my thoughts.
As I fell into this reflection, several servants rushed in and knocked over my medicine chest. Bottles, tools, and herbs were scattered across the floor.
When I tried to stop them, two bodyguards pinned me to the ground.
“Let go of me! Are you crazy? That’s medicine for Young Master Rigel! It’s life-saving!”
“Life-saving or a scam, you know best yourself.”
A familiar voice echoed from the doorway. The clack of high heels grew louder, walking toward me with arrogant steps. I looked up and saw Arabelle’s smug face looming above me. Behind her stood Jaxon, Tessa, and an unfamiliar elderly man.
Tessa looked at me, her face tense as she anxiously spoke to the elderly man.