You Think I Won't Talk?-Chapter 56

Orland released her hands immediately after her name was said. A whisper was echoing in his head, and, when he saw her avert her eyes downwards... the echo became louder, deafening.

’... I ruined it.’

The energy left his body in a second. The realisation sucked the life out of him and left him in complete shock. The following minutes passed with him being in a daze.

Every single action and thing he said, was done in a mechanical mode. Orland was not truly aware of what was happening. The only thing he knew was his terrible mistake and that the unknown consequences it would bring... could be irreparable.

That harsh possibility disturbed his vision of what was transpiring, turning his demeanour cold and rigid.

All of his reactions were made as a reflex. From his change of seats to bringing the teacup closer to his daughter... all of it was done instinctively.

His mind was so confused that no thought could take form in his unstable head.

Then, the loud bang of something made him slightly react.

Turning his head to the front, the scene of his trembling daughter made his time freeze for a second.

Her draw up hands, shaking erratically from the tip of her fingers throughout her whole body... how her head looked downwards as if fear was driving her to the edge of a pit...

His eyes widened, and his chin trembled as his conscious self tried to comprehend what was happening. Saying Marianne’s name once without his voice coming out... the next time he said it...

"Marianne!!"

... It came out loud and clear, just like his woken mind.

Orland panicked. He had never seen such behaviour in his daughter before. It was terrifying how she trembled uncontrollably and how her body opposed to move from the pitiful position she had adopted.

"Dear... Marianne... Marianne, look at me."

His eyes looked at her stance. Her shoulders and even her hair followed the shivers. Her hands had lost their colour and her nails had turned completely blue.

’Is this– Is this a seizure?! Why?? What...!’

The Duke was about to question how things turned out like this. How was it that, a few hours earlier, they were enjoying their company, how she seemed full of life, how she seemed healthy... Orland forced all of those inquiries out of his head.

What he had to do now... was appease his child’s state.

He took the reins of his own panic and acted instinctively.

Orland took it in his hands to make her shift from the unsightly position. Pushing her hands back, he held them tightly to stop the distressful shaking they had engaged in.

Orland did not know what should be done in such situations. He had seen how soldiers suffered from these attacks after the battles. The picture of the men being forcefully suppressed to the bed by numerous people flashed on his memories and after realising her hands, the Duke acted immediately.

Even though his way of suppression was not as brutal... Orland realised that his way of doing it was the right one.

Trying to soothe her in his desperate hug, he spoke in a soft and modulated tone. Pouring out his heart in every word. Being the last few the ones he repeated for longer... Those which were about to tear his heart apart on how strongly his determination was put on them...

"...Dad is here..."

’...Dad is here, sweetie....dad is here....’

Biting his lower lip, he held to the thread of composure he had. His throat was closed, menacing to burst into tears in pain to how thin, small and frail she felt in his arms. Orland held in the tears, his chin trembled as his face distorted in grief. His heart was saddened by what had happened, and feeling how, slowly but continuously, his shoulder received the falling teardrops of his daughter... broke his heart.

Drawing back from the hug, the lifeless eyes shed tears like waterfalls. Her face was covered in tears. The sight was one he wished he had never seen. It was a face that... no parent would want to see on their children’s faces.

Orland went pale at how heartbreaking it was. His eyes became tearful as he impeded his facial features to become contorted by how grievous it was.

"...Marianne...Marianne... what’s wrong, sweetie...? Please don’t cry..."

His voice almost broke. If not for the short pauses, the Duke’s voice would have sounded hoarse by the tears forcefully locked inside him. His hands hurried to wipe her unstoppable tears. The never-ending tears made him desperate.

’Please stop... please...’

Noticing that she wasn’t looking at him, he followed the track of her gaze. The stack of notes that had woken him was laying on the table.

Putting the pieces together, he guessed that there was something for him written there.

Once he saw the message... and how the last three words were clearly written with great difficulty...

Confusion overwhelmed his body once more.

With lost eyes, he managed to answer amid his confusion, with a weak toneless voice

"...Marianne... Marianne... I would never get mad at you... are you... like this..."

’Because of me...?’

The sudden realisation that her condition might be his fault... threw Orland into the abyss.

His head swirled with violence. He felt dizzy to the possibility of him being the source of her ailing. In distress, he thought of all the things he had done from the moment she was born, trying to find the things he had done wrong, trying to search on what he failed, on what he had done to condemn his daughter’s happiness to endless misery.

’What did I– Where... When! How.... How can this be?... What have I do–’

Almost surrendered to agony, his turmoil was cut off.

Marianne had approached him swiftly, without him noticing. Taking apart the hand that blocked his face in quick movement, she wrapped her weak arms around him.

Orland’s mind was shaken.

The continuous engagement with extreme thoughts and deductions had tired out his brain. He was no longer able to contemplate any idea of what was true or wrong.

The only thing he could do now was to be true to his emotions.

"... sorry, my baby... I’m alright...... I’m not mad... and.... I am sorry, my sunshine...’

He hugged his daughter for a long time. Without thinking of anything, he kept pouring his affection into the hug. She was his dear daughter, and the accumulation of things he missed out on from the day she forbade him... would be endless if they were to be listed.

’This hug is more than what I deserve...’

A sad smile dwelled on his countenance.

Her breathing was so peaceful, that it also brought rest to his soul. She had started to get so comfortable, that the way she slightly cuddled in his shoulder brought happiness to his heart.

’Haaaa... this child... is truly incredible.... To be able to shake me in sorrow and then comfort me with her lovely and kind being....’

After a while, he found it fitting to end the embrace. He was convinced that he shouldn’t abuse his luck. So, with great effort, the Duke separated himself from his daughter.

Pampering her, Orland dried her face. Seeing how her demeanour seemed exhausted from all the turmoil she went through in a short amount of time, the Duke behaved attentive over again.

Asking for her state, he offered his help seeing that his guesses were right and took her in his arms.

As he carried Marianne to her quarters, Orland did not fail to notice the increasing temperature of her body. The young girl was quickly developing a fever and she didn’t seem aware of it. The time to let the works of his mind rest were done.

Forgetting the fatigue, Orland acted promptly. Now, the priority was to take care of her illness.

Arriving at her bedside, he placed her carefully on the mattress. The fact that she was losing consciousness was extremely concerning since her fever continued to intensify. She was already weak from all the stress she had undergone in the last few days and...

’If she’s too weak... This is bad!’

Trying to get her to stay awake, Orland kept talking to her. However... the imminent slumber she fell into, could not be prevented.

He quickly instructed to send for a physician to the manor. There was no time to waste because her body was weak enough to not resist the fever for long.

Orland was determined to stay by her side. So, naturally, he meant to fetch a seat when he tried to draw away from her. Nonetheless, he couldn’t even try to stand up.

The hand clenching hard on his vest... refused to let go. The bony fingers were rosy coloured by the strength put into them.

Taking the hand into his own, he whispered, just like he had done earlier, to his sleeping daughter.

"It’s alright, dear... I am here... Daddy is here... I won’t leave your side..."

The grip of the hand changed from his vest to his hand, causing the exhausted parent to sigh in compassion. Bringing his other hand to the burning forehead, he continued as he grazed it fondly.

"... Sleep well, my child... I will be here the whole time...... So rest nicely and open your beautiful eyes again... I will wait patiently for your recovery."