Chapter 2. Diagnosis

Tap, tap. 

Lorenzo had a habit of tapping the end of his pen on the table. It was morning, and his schedule was filled with various tasks, documents to read, reports to write, checklists to tick off. 

Before that, he had been waiting.

Knock knock. 

The door sounded, followed by the voice of a female. 

“Come in.”

A young girl entered, dressed in a servant's uniform. 

“What’s the report on Floriana?”

Lorenzo had been waiting for the maid to arrive. He had asked for news on his sister, who he had rescued a few nights prior. 

The maid had a weary face, almost apologetic. 

“There is no change, Your Lordship. She is still refusing to eat and only stays in bed. No matter what we do, we cannot get her to get up or eat something…!”

The maid quickly flustered with concern. The reports had been like this since the first day. 

Lorenzo stopped tapping his pen on the desk. Instead, he gazed forward with a frown. 

His carefree and rambunctious sister was suddenly refusing to leave her room. It was a complete reversal of her usual personality. 

The maid lowered her gaze and spoke with an anxious tone. 

“The young miss will really fall ill if this continues. Please, Your Lordship, forgive me for my impudence, but could you try and talk to her...! She may respond differently if it’s her own brothe—!”

The maid looked up while speaking, only to be met with a terrible glare. The young count’s eyes were narrowed and filled with anger. The maid gasped and bowed deeply. 

“I- I’m sorry, Your Lordship! I spoke out of turn…!”

She hurriedly apologised. 

Lorenzo’s facial muscles twitched, making his frown deeper. 

“Is there anything else?”

“No, Sir…”

Lorenzo picked up his pen again. 

“Then, you're dismissed.”

The girl bowed once more and left the room quietly. 

Tap, tap. Lorenzo fell into thought for a moment. 

Then he decided to go and visit Floriana. 

***

Knock knock. 

“Floriana. It’s me. I’m coming in.”

The doors in the large, elaborate room were pushed open. Settees and sofas were strewn with dresses, petticoats and ribbons and lace, jewellery and glittering accessories were scattered on the dressing table, and various trinkets lay on the bedside table and desk. Floriana’s room looked no different than usual. 

Only, a small table was laid with a snack tray and tea. Untouched. 

Lorenzo walked into the room. Floriana lay on the bed on white, ruffled sheets, dressed in a modest, white gown. 

“Floriana.”

Lorenzo called, but Floriana didn’t respond. Her back was to the door, so he could only see her light brown hair splayed out on the bed and not her face. 

Was she asleep? No. He clearly saw her flinch when he stepped inside. 

“Floriana.”

He said again, walking around to the other side of the bed. He looked at her face. His younger sister looked similar to him, aside from the colour of their hair. They were sometimes mistaken as twins, but in truth, he was older than her by a few years. 

Her face was haggard, sleepless and dry. It was unthinkable to see his sister, an infamously exquisite woman in high society, in that state. 

“I know you're not asleep.”

Floriana didn’t move for a moment.

But then, she opened her eyes slowly. She looked up at Lorenzo. His gaze remained unchanged, scrutinising her with an unreadable expression. 

Floriana sat up in her bed with a blank face and nodded in greeting. 

Lorenzo regarded her. It had only been a few days, but she seemed to have lost weight. He could tell that much even through the long sleeves of her gown. 

“What are you doing? Why are you not eating?”

Floriana looked at him with her deep brown eyes, then averted her gaze. She didn’t answer him, but her face dimmed. 

‘Refusing to even answer me?’

He knew his sister was prideful, even— no, especially in the face of her older brother. Ever since they were young, she would look down on him with disdain. Unfortunately for her, it was decided early on that Lorenzo would inherit the estate, so there was little she could do to overpower him. 

Instead, she resorted to bothering him in other ways. Small inconveniences and trivial incidents like draining her allocated budget, picking on other ladies and causing drama at banquets, making messes for him to clean up after her as the head of the house. 

Floriana would often be out of the house, and yet her antics would not stop coming to trouble him. 

So now, it was odd that she had spent the last few days at home in her room, not even eating. 

Lorenzo had half expected her to get back to her usual ways after the incident from a few days ago. She would’ve demanded those thugs be hunted down and punished severely for daring to even look at her, and go shopping to replace her dress, fan, accessories - everything that was ruined. 

He didn’t think she would rest for so long. 

‘Being kidnapped must have scared her quite a bit.’

“You won’t eat?”

Floriana glanced back at Lorenzo, then looked away, half shaking her head. 

For the girl who dined out at an expensive restaurant almost every single day to refuse meals…

At this rate, she would get sick. Or was she sick already?

The house physician he had called and paid extra to promise his silence had said that other than a few minor injuries, she was okay. 

Still, Lorenzo didn’t think that was the end of it.

He reached out to Floriana, touching her forehead. 

Floriana jumped in surprise, grabbing his hand. Lorenzo stared at her. Behind his arm, he could see her pale face. 

“……”

But Floriana said nothing, only holding onto his wrist. Lorenzo continued regardless.

“It seems like you have a fever.”

Of course, after that cold night in a damp and dirty alley, it would be stranger if she didn’t fall sick. The physician must have missed it because it wasn’t until later the symptoms began. No wonder she wasn’t eating. 

Lorenzo retracted his hand from her strengthless grip. 

“I’ll fetch the physician—”

The moment he said it, Floriana grabbed his hand again. 

“…?”

Floriana shook her head vehemently. She was always against doctors, and seemed to be making a fuss as usual. 

Then, something came to his mind. 

When the maid he asked to give a report had said that Floriana had not spoken to anyone since the incident. 

Lorenzo opened his mouth to say something, then decided against it. 

“You’re sick. You will see the house physician.”

Lorenzo demanded. His sister’s eyes shone with something like betrayal. 

He pulled back his hand, and this time, Floriana let it go. He stepped back from the bed and walked out of the room. 

A subtle feeling had made itself known in his chest. An unease that he couldn’t subdue. 

He quickly summoned the doctor and had Floriana examined that very afternoon. 

.

.

.

The physician regarded Floriana carefully. He had completed the examination quickly, confirming that there was nothing much different to the morning after the incident. It was only that her injuries had healed a little, and she had a slight fever, for which he prescribed some medication. 

“Then, are you sure you’re not hurting anywhere else, my lady? Please let me know.”

Floriana shook her head. She looked at him with a dry, dispirited gaze, unsmiling. Then she bowed her head while sitting in bed. 

…Was she saying she was done with her examination? The physician got the sense that he should stop asking her. 

Thankfully, other than what he had seen, there wasn't much else to diagnose. He adjusted the spectacles on his face. Then stood up from the bedside chair. He bid his farewells and left the room. 

Clack. 

Outside the door, Lorenzo was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. When the physician came out, he straightened and stepped in front of the old man. 

“What news, Doctor?”

The physician removed his round spectacles and looked at Lorenzo.

“It is generally policy to keep patient records confidential… however it is against my better judgement to keep this from you as the lady’s guardian.”

“Tell me.”

“It seems the lady has developed mutism.”

Such a diagnosis was made.