Chapter 87 - The smaller things
“My Lady.” Garside lay on his bed, back propped up against the wall behind him. “This servant is humbled that you would take time out of your day to come visit.”
“Think nothing of it,” Scarlett said after having entered the room, eyeing him for a moment. She’d been somewhat worried about his condition, which is why she decided to pay a brief visit just to check things. The aged butler’s face appeared pale as he looked back at her, the upper half of his left shoulder supported by a thick layer of bandaging.
At Scarlett’s request, Rosa had visited the man a few times since the assault by the Cabal to see what she could help with, but the bard said there wasn’t much more healing magic could do for his recovery at the moment. Apparently, there was a limit to how much healing one’s body could handle all at once, and the longer you waited, the less you could do with magic alone. Age was also a factor, it seemed. And while Scarlett would consider Garside to be quite vigorous for his age—considering he had less issue than her climbing a freaking mountain—it appeared stamina didn’t equate to better recovery in this context.
Rosa had done what she could, so it was all left up to Garside himself to recover the last bit. Scarlett had also had what was supposedly the family physician pay a visit from the city, but the man had said much the same. He hadn’t even been entirely certain whether Garside would regain the use of his arm.
When she’d first heard that, it had surprised her how livid it made her. It was to the point where she’d ended up using a practice session as an excuse to let out some of the anger. She still occasionally found her mind wandering back to the matter. And to the Hallowed Cabal. Especially Riya. Unbidden thoughts of anger directed at the woman had popped up more than once.
In general, she tried ignoring the matter as much as possible. Letting her irritation slip around others was almost as annoying as the irritation itself.
It was astounding this was what it took for her to realize she was this attached to the old butler. Of course, that affinity was bound to be a vestige left by the original Scarlett. But up till now, it had been a lot subtler than many of the other emotions left behind by the woman. It made one wonder if Scarlett herself had even been aware of how much she seemed to have cared about Garside.
To her, to Amy, it was a new sensation. Feeling this strongly about another person’s well-being. She couldn’t recall feeling this strongly even about her own parents or sister. Should she laugh or cry at the fact that even a twisted person like Scarlett seemed to have stronger emotional attachments to others than herself?
Her eyes passed to the bed table next to Garside’s bed, and the papers filled with text that lay there.
“I see you have deemed it fit not to abandon your duties while you convalesce.”
“I am this household’s sole butler, my Lady,” the man said with a look of certainty that belied his pale appearance. “It is only right that I maintain those duties that I can still, as long as I draw breath.”
She frowned. The way he put that didn’t sit well with her. “I am sure there are other people in this household who are capable enough to assume those responsibilities for the time being,” she said. “Yet Marlon informed me you left your quarters this morning to oversee the efforts of the masons clearing the courtyard.” She met his eyes. “You have served this family faithfully for a long time. Do not forget that your continued well-being is necessary if you are to continue to do so in the future.”