Chapter 341 - Three Hundred And Forty

Chapter 341: Chapter Three Hundred And Forty

The shattered tea set lay in pieces around Murray’s boots, steaming water pooling over the floor. His old face turned white.

"GUARDS! HELP! GUARDS, COME QUICKLY!" Murry shouted at the top of his lungs. His voice was filled with panic and terror.

Footsteps thundered across the courtyard entrance. Two guards burst through the front doors, their drawn swords glinting in the chandelier light.

"What happened, Mr Murry?" the first guard asked, stopping in his tracks when he saw the blood on the floor.

"Put your swords away!" Murry barked, pointing his trembling finger toward the stairs. "Lady Camilla fell down the flight of stairs! Pick her up! Be very gentle!"

The first guard immediately sheathed his weapon and ran toward the base of the staircase. He dropped to one knee beside Camilla. Her face was deadly pale, her eyes tightly closed, and her silk robe was soaked with dirt and old blood. He carefully slid his arms under her shoulders and knees, lifting her limp body off the floor. He grunted slightly at the weight, noticing how cold her hands felt against his armor.

Murry turned to the second guard with urgent eyes. "You! Run upstairs to Lord Damon’s room immediately! Tell Doctor Aris that Lady Camilla has collapsed and suffered a severe blow to the head! Tell him to come as soon as he finishes with the General!"

"Yes, sir!" the second guard replied, turning on his boot and sprinting up the steps three at a time.

Murry then turned toward the back hallway, where two young maids stood huddled together, clutching their white aprons in fear.

"You two, don’t just stand there crying!" Murry commanded, his tone sharp with authority. "Get buckets of hot water, clean towels, and lye! Clean up this blood from the floor before it stains, and clear away the broken teacups before someone stepped on the glass!"

"Right away, Mr. Murry!" the maids squeaked in unison, hurrying off toward the servants’ quarters.

Murry turned back to the first guard, who was holding Camilla securely in his arms. Fresh blood was slowly dripping from her forehead onto the guard’s silver breastplate.

"Follow me," Murry said, his voice shaking slightly as he reached into his deep coat pocket.

He pulled out a keyring with several brass keys. He led the guard away up the grand staircase and down the other hallway. This hallway was usually silent, away from the daily bustle of the mansion.

Murry stopped in front of a door at the end of the hallway.

This room had been locked away for a long time. Yet, as Murry selected a key and turned it in the lock, the door opened smoothly without a single squeak.

The guard carried Camilla inside and looked around in surprise. The room did not look like it had been abandoned at all. Even though the door was always locked, there was no dust on the furniture, no cobwebs in the corners, and the bed linen was crisp, fresh, and neatly folded. It was clear that Murry personally ensured this room was kept spotlessly clean every single day.

"Place her gently on the bed," Murry instructed softly.

The guard stepped up to the large bed and lowered Camilla onto the soft white sheets. Her head rolled to the side, completely limp.

"Thank you. You may return to your post outside," Murry said.

The guard bowed his head respectfully and stepped out into the hallway, pulling the door partially shut behind him.

Murry immediately walked over to the door and called for a senior maid. "Mabel! Come inside quickly!"

A middle-aged maid stepped into the room, bowing her head. "Yes, Mr. Murry?"

"Look at her," Murry whispered, pointing to Camilla’s blood-stained and ruined clothing. "She cannot stay in these filthy clothes. Strip off that torn robe and her chemise. Wash the dirt off her skin and change her into a clean nightgown. Do it now, before the doctor arrives."

Mabel nodded solemnly. "I will take care of it right away, sir."

Murry stepped out of the room to give the maid privacy. He paced back and forth in the dimly lit hallway, his hands tightly clasped behind his back. Every second felt like an hour. His old mind was racing with terrifying thoughts. First, Lord Damon had been brought home shot and bleeding to death. Now, Lady Camilla had collapsed and cracked her head against the wooden stairs. The entire household was hanging on a thin thread.

After several minutes, fast footsteps approached from the hallway. Doctor Aris walked briskly down the corridor, his medical bag bouncing against his hip. His spectacles were crooked on his nose, and his gray hair was messy.

"Where is she, Murry?" Doctor Aris asked, wiping sweat from his forehead with a sleeve.

"In here, Doctor," Murry replied, opening the door.

Inside, Mabel had just finished tying a string of the nightgown over Camilla’s chest. The dirty, blood-stained clothes were piled in a neat basket by the corner. Camilla lay flat on her back under the thick blankets, her face still ghostly pale.

Doctor Aris walked straight to the bedside and placed his bag on the nightstand. He pulled out a small glass bottle of clean water, a roll of white linen, and a small metal container of green herbal salve.

He sat on the edge of the bed and gently turned Camilla’s head to the side. He examined the deep cut near her hairline where her skin was open.

"The bleeding has slowed down," Doctor Aris noted in a quiet voice, dipping a small piece of cloth into water to clean the old dry, crusted blood from her forehead and hair.

Camilla did not move or make a sound. Her face remained still.

Doctor Aris carefully applied a generous layer of the green salve over the raw cut to stop any infection from settling in. He then took the roll of white linen, wrapping it smoothly around her forehead several times to hold the medicine in place and press the edges of the cut together. He did the same to the other minor injuries and scrapes across her body.

Next, the doctor reached under her blanket to feel her pulse at her wrist. He held his fingers against her skin for a long minute, counting her heartbeat while watching the steady rise and fall of her chest.

He opened another small glass vial containing a brown liquid that smelled strongly of bitter roots. He used a small silver spoon to trickle a few drops of the bitter medicine down Camilla’s throat. Camilla swallowed reflexively in her sleep, her throat twitching slightly before her breathing settled back into a deep, heavy rhythm.

Doctor Aris packed his tools back into his bag, snapped it shut, and stood up from the bed. He smoothed down his coat and walked out into the quiet hallway.

Murry, who had been standing right outside the door the entire time, stepped forward immediately. He gripped the edge of his coat, his hands trembling.

"How is the lady?" Murry asked, his voice shaking with deep anxiety.

Doctor Aris let out a long, tired breath and smiled softly to ease the old man’s mind.

"Her body was really exhausted, Murry," Doctor Aris replied calmly. "She endured severe emotional stress, untreated bruises, and physical exhaustion all in one night. Her fall down the stairs was simply her body shutting down from total overload. All the injuries on her body has been taken care of. The cut on her head looks scary, but her skull is intact. She just needs rest, that’s all."

A huge wave of relief washed over Murry’s face. He let out a loud sigh of relief, placing a hand over his heart as if to calm his beating pulse.

"Thank goodness," Murry murmured softly. "Thank goodness..."

Doctor Aris patted Murry’s shoulder reassuringly. "I have given her a mild sedative to help her sleep through the pain. I will be going back to my room to rest for a few hours. If anything changes, or if she develops a fever, please let me know immediately."

Murry nodded his head quickly. "I will, Doctor. Thank you for your hard work tonight."

Doctor Aris bowed slightly and walked down the hallway toward the guest quarters.