The sweet venom Chapter 39: 38

Read chapter 39 of The sweet venom by aspa201 on NovelPedia.

Before her departure, Helia had spent nearly the entire night at Doctor Caisus’s side, refining every detail of the project. He would remain there to oversee the operations, while she would conduct the analyses anew in the capital, using more advanced equipment. She would also need to implement the necessary adjustments, supervise the production of the modified bait with Cédric’s assistance, and, alongside this, resume her research on the antidote. The journey back had been uneventful, yet her reception proved markedly different this time. No sooner had she crossed the threshold of the manor than she sensed the oppressive tension that had lingered in her absence. Her father and brother had been informed of every detail. The chimera attack and her temporary disappearance had stirred a tempest of anxiety within her family. Though they were relieved to see her alive, their anger burned no less fiercely, against Ravenor, certainly, but also against her, for continually placing herself in danger. Lucian, still weakened by his own injuries, had nonetheless made the effort to come down to the hall to receive her. Yet instead of greeting her warmly, he overwhelmed her with reproaches, reminding her how deeply they had worried, and how, for a dreadful moment, he had truly believed her dead. As for their father, he had merely scrutinized her at length before declaring in an icy tone that she will never return there again. Then, without another word, he ordered her to rest and to consult a physician immediately before turning on his heel. She understood his concern, yet the coldness of his reception left a bitter taste upon her tongue. She might almost have preferred reproach; at least that would have betrayed some visible emotion. But her father remained true to himself. That evening, while she rested from her long journey, her father and brother were summoned once more to an imperial council, stricter measures were to be enacted. She, too, was troubled by the direction events were taking, but for her part, she could only focus on what she was capable of doing to help. The very next morning, despite Lucille’s protests, who insisted she take a day to recover, she prepared to go to the laboratory. Though she would willingly have welcomed a pause after all she had endured, she could not afford it. The samples she had brought back required immediate analysis. Seated before her mirror, she allowed Lucille to style her long hair with the meticulous gentleness that defined her. "Miss, might you free your morning tomorrow?" Lucille asked, brushing carefully through her strands. Helia lifted her chin slightly, meeting her gaze in the mirror’s reflection. "Tomorrow? I intended to go to the laboratory early. Why?" Lucille adjusted a lock of hair delicately before continuing. "The imperial ball that opens the social season is approaching, and you have lost more weight again," she observed with a trace of concern. "We ought to summon the tailor to alter your gowns and select those you will wear for the other engagements. You do still intend to attend, do you not?" The apprehension in her voice did not escape her. Lucille feared she might reconsider. Yet Helia was certain, this year, she would take part in society. A silence followed. Helia studied her reflection. Indeed, she had grown thinner without realizing it. Her features appeared more refined, her complexion paler. Her body bore the marks of exhaustion, of shortened nights and missed meals. Yet all these efforts were necessary. She offered her maid a gentle smile. "Very well. Send for him. Thank you, Lucille." Lucille appeared relieved and nodded before resuming her task with renewed assurance. She had feared her Lady might withdraw into herself again, consumed by her responsibilities. Though, in truth, the prospect brought Helia a measure of comfort. Between the laboratory and the mounting political tensions with Ravenor, she had scarcely found time to think of anything else. Still, immersing