Chapter 151: A Reckless Misstep

Chapter 151: Chapter 151: A Reckless Misstep

The moment the tent flap fell shut behind Elysia, the officers exchanged glances.

For a few seconds, no one spoke.

Then one of them finally gathered enough courage to break the silence.

"Your Grace, the Duchess is truly devoted. To come all this way just to bring you your medicine..."

A faint smile touched Cassiel’s lips.

"Yes. She cares for me deeply."

Another officer, a burly man with a thick beard, looked puzzled.

"But... when you touched her hand just now, she pulled back as if stung. You two don’t seem very familiar with one another?"

Cassiel’s smile vanished.

He shot the man a frosty look.

"Not familiar?"

The officer immediately sensed that he had said something wrong.

Before he could explain himself, another officer beside him chuckled.

"How could they not be familiar? His and Her Grace have been wed for some time now. I wager it won’t be long before we hear news of a young heir. Who says they’re not familiar?"

He expected his comment to earn at least a smile from Cassiel.

Instead, Cassiel’s expression darkened further.

Before the man could attempt to recover, Cassiel’s icy voice cut through the room.

"Funny how you’re all so chatty now."

His gaze swept across the gathered officers.

"When I asked for volunteers a moment ago, every last one of you went dead quiet."

Instantly, all heads bowed.

The atmosphere in the tent returned to its earlier solemnity.

Outside, Elysia stepped away from the command tent, deliberately ignoring Vaelen where he stood waiting.

She approached the guard and offered him a polite smile.

"Might there be a place to rest nearby? The Duke asked me to wait for him."

"Of course, Your Grace. Right this way."

The guard turned to lead her towards the waiting area.

"Aunt."

The word came from behind her, sharp and clear.

Vaelen sounded more controlled than before, but there was a distinct gritted edge to his voice.

Elysia stopped and turned back.

"Your uncle is still occupied. He will see you when he is finished."

Vaelen frowned.

"That is not what I wanted to ask!"

But Elysia had already turned away, showing no intention of listening further.

"Stop!"

Vaelen’s voice rose.

When she did not halt, he strode after her.

"I said stop! Are you deaf?!"

He reached out abruptly and caught the edge of her cloak.

Elysia was walking too quickly.

When Vaelen pulled her back, he did not hold back his strength.

The packed earth of the yard was uneven, rutted from drills and horses. Elysia was not expecting the sudden force.

Her footing slipped.

She instinctively threw out her hands to break her fall, but the momentum carried her down.

Her palms scraped hard against the rough gravel, and a sharp pain shot through her knee as it struck the ground.

Elysia’s breath caught.

For a moment, she could not move.

"Your Grace!"

Bertha cried out and hurried towards her, pale with fright.

She reached down to help.

"Bertha, wait. Don’t move me."

Elysia remained seated on the ground, one hand clutching her injured knee while the other supported her against the earth.

A thin layer of sweat formed on her forehead.

Her face had drained of colour, and her breathing had become uneven.

The pain in her knee was painfully familiar.

It was the same old injury.

The one that had troubled her for years.

Her palms stung from the scrapes, tiny stones embedded in the skin, but compared with the throbbing pain in her knee, they barely mattered.

Vaelen paused.

Then he gave a short, disbelieving laugh.

"Oh, come on. You tripped. That doesn’t possibly hurt your knee that badly."

He remembered what Elysia had been like when they were children.

She used to climb trees and dive into rivers as though she feared nothing. She could plant one foot and vault onto a horse in a single smooth motion.

Now she had fallen once and was suddenly sitting on the ground as though she had suffered some grave injury.

It had to be deliberate.

Another scene, just to draw his attention back to her.

"You have something wrong with you," Elysia muttered through clenched teeth.

Vaelen frowned.

"What did you say?"

Elysia lifted her face and glared at him.

Her eyes were faintly red, whether from pain or humiliation, even she could not tell.

"I said there’s something wrong with you, Vaelen. Every single time I run into you, something blows up in my face. You’re a walking curse."

Vaelen froze.

She was cursing him.

Heat rushed to his head.

He strode forward two steps, ready to call out her ridiculous accusation to her face.

Then he saw her knee clearly.

Elysia was still seated on the ground, her hand pressed against it. Her other palm was scraped and bleeding lightly from breaking her fall.

This was not an act.

The old injury had genuinely been aggravated.

Vaelen stopped dead.

The sarcasm and accusations that had been ready on his tongue refused to come out.

"How did it get this bad?"

Bertha’s voice shook.

She truly cared for Elysia.

Elysia sniffed and lowered her head.

She had been sturdy since childhood.

In the dead of winter, she could run wild outside all day in a light dress and never catch a cold. She had once jumped down from a wall several yards high with Asher. Her legs would ache for a while, but she would recover quickly and be back on her feet.

But ever since her knee injury, she had stopped riding.

She went out less.

Moved less.

And slowly, her body had weakened.

Especially over the past two years.

One loss after another had struck the Hartwell family. Some had died in battle. Some had left. Others had passed away from illness.

Elysia had shut herself in her room for days at a time, barely able to eat.

She had grown much thinner.

How could she still be the same as she had been before?

"I’ll go tell the Duke of Draevenor," Bertha said, already turning.

"No."

Vaelen snapped back to himself.

Bertha did not intend to listen.

But Elysia spoke at the same time.

"Don’t go, Bertha."

Bertha turned back anxiously.

"But Your Grace, your knee..."

Elysia forced out a small smile.

"He’s in council. It looks urgent. They need a decision quickly. I already stepped in once and interrupted them."

She glanced towards the command tent.

"Going in again wouldn’t be appropriate."

"But you’re hurt!"

"I’m hurt," Elysia said evenly, "but that doesn’t outweigh military business. And he’s not a surgeon. Even if he comes out, he can’t treat my knee."

Bertha fell silent.

Everything Elysia said was reasonable.

Too reasonable.

A young woman had just fallen because someone had roughly pulled her back, yet she was already thinking about whether her injury was important enough to interrupt a military council.

Or perhaps she had simply become accustomed to putting everything else before herself.

Elysia turned towards a nearby guard.

"There should be a field surgeon in the camp. Please have him come."

The guard acknowledged her immediately and hurried away.

Bertha carefully helped Elysia to her feet.

The moment Elysia put weight on her injured leg, her face tightened.

Bertha quickly steadied her.

"Slowly, Your Grace."

Elysia nodded.

Together, they made their way towards a nearby side room where she could rest.

Watching them go, Vaelen’s first instinct was to follow.

He took two steps.

Then stopped.

Her knee being injured had nothing to do with him.

He had already let go.

She had simply lost her balance.

And even if his actions had somehow contributed to the fall, would she really let it slide like that?

Vaelen tightened his jaw.

It was not his fault.

Yet his brow only furrowed deeper.

After some time, the doors to the council chamber opened.

Cassiel was pushed out by Bran, with several commanders surrounding him.

Their expressions were heavy as they discussed the strategy in low voices.

"This move is too risky."

"Perhaps we should rethink it."

Cassiel sat straight in his chair, calm and detached.

"No."

The others exchanged helpless looks but said nothing more.

Vaelen stepped forward at once.

"Uncle."

The moment Cassiel saw him, clear disappointment flashed across his face.

Vaelen blinked.

Cassiel asked lazily, "What is it?"

"His Majesty sent me..." Vaelen started but suddenly realised that Cassiel’s expression had changed.

The Duke’s gaze shifted towards the direction in which Elysia had disappeared.

A faint crease appeared between his brows.

"Where is the Duchess?"

Vaelen’s fingers tightened slightly.

He had not expected that to be Cassiel’s first concern.

"She went to the waiting area."

Cassiel’s expression remained unreadable.

But Bran, standing behind him, noticed the subtle change.

Before either man could say anything more, the field surgeon hurried past the edge of the tent towards the side room.

Cassiel’s eyes followed him.

His expression darkened.

"What happened?"

Vaelen’s face stiffened.

He had a sudden, uneasy feeling that whatever had happened outside had just become far more serious.