[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke novel Chapter 38

Chapter 38: A Song of Angel

Nazia stepped into the dimly lit room. The sight, even for someone as experienced as her, made her stomach churn. Blood painted the stone floor, congealing in some places while still trickling in others.

The lifeless body, twisted and mutilated, bore marks of a struggle that even death could not hide. The metallic stench in the air suffocated her every breath.

She frowned and her jaw tightened. While trying to suppress her disgust, she knelt and began to inspect the remains.

Moments later, the rhythmic tap of boots echoed in the corridor. Without even turning around she knew it was Raymond Eldritch.

Ray spared the corpse a glance before kneeling beside the lady, "Didn’t expect his Grace to be done this quickly." His voice carried a tone of nonchalance and even faint admiration. _{freewёbn૦νeɭ.com}

"Healer was here..."

At that, Ray let out a faint sigh.

Without another word, he grabbed a broom and began the grim task of gathering the fleshy debris that scattered across the floor. "Normal thieves don’t fight with such precision."

Nazia gave a brief nod. "An assassin, then."

Ray inspected the severed fingers and scars running down the man’s arms. "A highly trained one, too. He wouldn’t have risked entering without significant skill. His intent was clear: kill His Grace or at least injure him heavily."

Nazia’s frown deepened as she glanced toward the study table. Blood still smeared the edges of the archduke’s chair. "I should fetch His Grace a new set of clothes.

She was about to move but recalling that glare, she stopped.

"Don’t," Ray said with a dry smirk, "His Grace would have called us if he needed something. You know better than to risk his ire, my lady."

He grabbed a thick cloth and began wrapping the corpse without any hint of disgust, all the while muttering, "I hope that silly healer won’t do something stupid and get himself killed."

Nazia stiffened at that. "He was carrying his Grace in his arms, afraid that..." she found it hard to speak further, "That, His Grace must be afraid of this dead man."

Ray, "..."

How long will it take for the silly healer to notice that "Rael" is the Archduke? And his Grace is the nightmare others didn’t even dare to whisper about. How can he be afraid?

His master had been interrogating his enemies since he was a child. Torture was practically second nature to him!

He snorted, "If anything, this thief got lucky. That was probably the shortest interrogation His Grace has ever conducted." I’d wager it was that silly healer’s arrival that made him speed things up.

Meanwhile in Xion’s Room . . .

The soft glow of a magical lantern cast warm light over the small chamber.

Darius, now freshly bathed, was dressed in a soft blue shirt and grey pants. The clothes were, without a doubt, two sizes bigger than his frame.

The healer had helped him roll his sleeves, and now he was silently sitting on the edge of the bed.

Xion stood behind him, gently drying the child’s hair with a soft towel. "Just a minute. It will be over soon," he said softly while a light smile graced his lips.