My Bratty Wife
Chapter 192 - Hundred And Ninety Two

Chapter 192: Chapter Hundred And Ninety Two

The sun began to rise, painting the sky with hues of soft pink and gold. Doctor Abernathy, his face etched with fatigue, checked Ryan for any signs of complications. He examined the wound, now bandaged and clean, his fingers probing gently, he found no signs of infection or further complications. He listened to Ryan’s breathing, his brow furrowed in concentration. Thankfully it had normalized. His fever had subsided, but Ryan remained unconscious, his body still unresponsive.

Abernathy sighed, a sound of weary concern. Davis, who had been watching the doctor’s every move, asked, his voice trembling, "What is it, Doctor?"

"He must be in so much pain," Abernathy replied, his voice low and grave, "that his body doesn’t want to wake up."

Davis’s eyes widened, fear gripping his heart. "Will he wake up?" he asked, his heart pounding in his chest.

Abernathy placed a reassuring hand on Davis’s shoulder. "Of course he will," he said, his voice firm. "But he needs time. Take care of him. If there are any problems, notify me immediately." He gathered his medical bag and prepared to leave.

Davis nodded, his gaze fixed on Ryan’s still form. "I will," he promised. He escorted the doctor out of the room and down the stairs, his footsteps heavy.

As he closed the heavy main entrance door, he found himself surrounded by the anxious faces of the castle staff. Mrs. Madelyn, her eyes red and swollen, was sobbing uncontrollably.

"What did they do to him?" she cried, her voice breaking with grief. "I heard his screams. I heard his pain. The mother in me wanted to break down that door and save him." She looked at Davis, her eyes pleading. "Tell me he’s not going to die. Please tell me he survived." Fresh tears streamed down her face.

Davis, his own heart aching, held Mrs. Madelyn close, comforting her as best he could. "He’s going to be alright, Mrs. Madelyn," he reassured her, his voice gentle. "He’s just sleeping. He needs his rest."

He escorted Mrs. Madelyn to her quarters, calming her down with soothing words and gentle reassurances. When he returned, the servants had dispersed, their faces still etched with worry, leaving only Mr. Bradford standing near the fireplace, his expression grave.

He turned to Davis, his eyes filled with concern. "How is His Grace, truly?" he asked, his voice low and serious. "Please, Davis, be honest with me. Don’t sugarcoat it."

Davis hesitated, then sighed. "He’s alive, Mr. Bradford," he said, his voice weary. "But he’s badly injured. The doctor says he’ll recover, but it will take time."

Mr. Bradford placed a firm, reassuring hand on Davis’s shoulder, his touch conveying a mixture of relief and concern. "I’m glad to hear His Grace is alive," he said, his voice low and sincere. "That’s the most important thing." He paused, his gaze lingering on Davis’s weary face. "You’ve done well, Davis. He’s fortunate to have you."

Davis nodded, his own relief mixed with a lingering anxiety. "Thank you, Mr. Bradford," he replied, his voice soft. "I’ll do everything I can to ensure his recovery."

Mr. Bradford nodded again, his eyes filled with determination. "We all will," he said. "This castle needs him. And he needs us." He sighed, his gaze drifting towards the fireplace, where the flames danced and flickered. "We must remain vigilant," he repeated, his voice laced with a quiet warning. "We don’t know who did this, or why. But we must be prepared for anything."

He turned back to Davis, his expression softening slightly. "Get some rest, Davis," he said, his voice gentle. "You’ve been through a lot. I’ll see to it that the staff remains calm and focused. We’ll maintain a sense of normalcy, so when His Grace wakes, he will be in a calm environment."

Davis nodded, grateful for Mr. Bradford’s understanding. "Thank you, Mr. Bradford," he said again, his voice filled with sincere appreciation. "I appreciate your support."

Mr. Bradford gave him a final, comforting pat on the shoulder. He then turned and walked away, his footsteps echoing through the silent hall, leaving Davis alone with his thoughts.

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Suzy had finally completed the planning for the upcoming orphanage jubilee. A sense of accomplishment washed over her, but it was quickly followed by a wave of longing for Ryan. She decided to spend some time in the garden, hoping the fresh air and the beauty of nature would soothe her restless spirit.

She settled onto a wooden swing, its gentle creaks a familiar and comforting sound. The garden was in full bloom, a riot of colors and fragrances. She opened her book, but her mind kept drifting back to Ryan, her heart aching for his presence.

As a gentle breeze rustled the leaves and swayed the flowers, a sudden, unsettling feeling washed over Suzy. It was a cold, inexplicable dread that sent a shiver down her spine. At that very moment, she felt a slight tug at her neck. Her hand instinctively went up, and she realized her chained necklace, the one holding Ryan’s Blackwood ring, had slipped off.

"My necklace," she whispered, her eyes widening with alarm. She immediately started searching her lap and the folds of her skirt, her fingers frantically patting the fabric. The chain was there, lying innocently on her lap, but the ring was gone.

Panic began to set in. She stood up abruptly, her book falling to the ground, and started looking for the ring with increasing desperation. She retraced her steps on the swing, her eyes scanning the grass, the wooden slats, every inch of the surrounding area.

Noah, who was walking towards the chateau, noticed Suzy’s frantic movements. He approached her, his brow furrowed with concern. "Your Grace? Is everything alright?" he asked, his voice gentle.

"My ring," Suzy replied, her voice trembling slightly. "I can’t find my ring. Ryan’s ring. I can’t find Ryan’s ring."

Noah’s expression immediately turned serious. He knew how much that ring meant to Suzy. "I’ll help you look, Your Grace," he said, his voice reassuring.

They searched together, their eyes scanning every nook and cranny of the garden. They moved slowly and carefully, their hopes dwindling with each passing moment. The clouds covering the rays of the sunlight, casting long shadows across the garden, making the search even more difficult.

After what seemed like an eternity, Noah spotted something dark nestled amongst the fallen leaves near the base of the swing. He knelt down and carefully picked it up. It was the Blackwood ring.

"Your Grace," he said, his voice filled with relief, holding out the ring.

Suzy gasped, her eyes widening with relief. She rushed towards Noah, her hand trembling as she took the ring. She clutched it tightly in her palm, bringing it close to her heart. Tears welled up in her eyes, a mixture of relief and lingering fear. She pressed the ring to her lips, kissing the smooth, dark steel, as if trying to draw comfort and strength from it.

Noah watched her, his expression filled with concern. "Your Grace, are you alright?" he asked softly.

Suzy took a deep breath, trying to compose herself, to push back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Yes, Noah," she said, her voice still a little shaky. "Thank you. Thank you so much."

A sudden thought struck her, a wave of anxiety washing over her again. The loss of the ring, the bad feeling she had experienced earlier – it all felt ominous. "Noah," she said, her voice firm despite the tremor in her hands. "Send a letter to Carleton. Inquire about His Grace. I need to know if he is alright."