The next day, Elara continued her "performance." She spent almost the entire day lying in bed, consuming only the small amount of hot water and halved rations (a small piece of black bread and a few sips of thin broth) ordered by Frau Helga. She forced herself to look even weaker, her face as pale as death, her breathing deliberately shallow.
Frau Helga "inspected" her twice, once in the morning and once in the afternoon. She maintained her icy indifference, merely standing at the doorway or bedside, scrutinizing Elara without asking further questions or showing any concern.
Elara's heart remained suspended. She didn't know if Frau Helga believed her or not, much less if she would report this to the Duke.
By evening, just as Elara thought she might have to continue this "illness" indefinitely, Frau Helga finally opened the door again. This time, following behind her was an elderly man in a dark robe, carrying an old medicine chest, his expression numb—the castle physician.
"The physician is here," Frau Helga said to Elara, her tone still flat. "Let him see what's wrong with you."
Elara's heart tightened. The physician! Would a professional see through her act? She doubled down on her portrayal of weakness, barely seeming to have the strength to lift her eyelids.
The old physician walked slowly to the bedside, his eyes cloudy, seemingly indifferent to everything around him. He didn't even ask Elara any questions. He simply extended his dry fingers, lifted her eyelids, glanced at her tongue, and then perfunctorily felt her pulse.
The whole process felt less like a diagnosis and more like... a routine check.
"Well?" Frau Helga asked coldly from the side.
The old physician withdrew his hand, replying in the same numb, emotionless tone, "Madam, it appears... to be merely excessive weakness and malnutrition. Nothing serious. I will prescribe some herbal tonic to restore her strength. A few days of rest should suffice."
Frau Helga nodded, seemingly unsurprised by this outcome, or perhaps simply uncaring. She instructed the nearby maidservant, "Go, prepare the herbal tonic as the physician prescribed."
The maidservant left to obey. The old physician packed his medicine chest and departed as silently as he had arrived.
Frau Helga gave Elara one last look, her eyes still cold. "Since the physician says it's nothing serious, then 'rest' well. This castle doesn't keep idle hands, much less... troublesome wastes of space who play tricks. Get well soon."
With that, she too turned and left, leaving Elara alone to face the impending, dubious "herbal tonic."
Soon, the maidservant returned with a bowl of dark, murky liquid emitting a strong, bitter smell. Elara looked at the suspicious concoction, filled with doubt and unease. Was this medicine... truly meant to restore strength, or... something Frau Helga or the Duke intended to use to test her, or even punish her?
But she had no choice. Under the watchful eye of the maidservant (and perhaps other unseen watchers), she held her breath, steeled herself, and forced down the tongue-numbingly bitter brew, sip by agonizing sip.
The potion settled heavily in her stomach, offering no comfort, only a churning unease.
Just then, Elara suddenly sensed a... very subtle, unusual feeling of being watched. Not from Frau Helga, nor the departing maidservant, but... from somewhere more hidden, more difficult to pinpoint.
She instinctively glanced towards the doorway.
Outside, in the shadows of the corridor, Knight Kaelen's statue-like figure stood silently.
Had he... been watching her the whole time?
Elara's heart leaped! When had he arrived? How much had he seen? Had he... also seen through her feigned illness?
Her brow, which had furrowed involuntarily from the bitter medicine, now froze under Kaelen's gaze. She thought she saw his cold face... twitch, ever so slightly? Was it her imagination? Or did his brow truly, for that fleeting instant, crease almost imperceptibly?
What flashed through his eyes then? Scrutiny? Suspicion? Or... something else?
Elara didn't dare look further. She quickly lowered her head, her heart pounding wildly. Knight Kaelen's presence, like a great enigma, made her feel even more insecure.
This attempt at feigning illness seemed to have failed to achieve its intended effect. Frau Helga remained indifferent, the physician perfunctory, and the Duke... hadn't appeared at all, as if he had truly forgotten her. The only thing that left her uncertain and wary was Kaelen's brief, ambiguous reaction.
Not only had she failed to gain respite, but she might have attracted new, unknown risks with her clumsy performance. A deep chill washed over Elara, along with... a clearer understanding of her predicament. Trying to fight the rules and power within this castle with such petty tricks was simply foolish dreaming.