Chapter 194 - Hundred And Ninety Four
Suzy had been in Carleton at the Carleton castle for five long days, almost a week, her anxiety growing with each passing hour. She had spent a considerable amount of time talking with Doctor Abernathy, seeking any reassurance about Ryan’s well-being. While the doctor had been cautiously optimistic, his words hadn’t fully eased her unease.
After receiving a letter from Davis stating that Ryan was fine but was far too busy with pressing matters to reply to her correspondence at the moment. A cold dread washed over Suzy. No matter how demanding his responsibilities, Ryan would always find a moment to send her a few lines, a brief reassurance of his love and care. Davis’s explanation felt hollow, a flimsy veil over something she couldn’t quite grasp but deeply feared. An uneasy feeling settled in her stomach, a knot of anxiety that refused to loosen.
The next morning, Suzy made a swift decision. She instructed Irene to pack light travel necessities. Accompanied by Noah and Irene, she boarded the carriage, her heart pounding with a mixture of apprehension and a desperate need to see Ryan with her own eyes. The journey to Carleton felt longer than usual, each mile amplifying her growing fear.
As their carriage approached the familiar courtyard of the Carleton castle, Davis stood frozen in disbelief. He hadn’t expected her arrival, and the sight of her carriage sent a jolt of panic through him. Suzy descended from the carriage with Noah’s steadying hand, her expression tight and her eyes filled with a fierce determination.
Davis bowed deeply, offering a customary greeting. "Your Grace," he stammered, his voice betraying his shock.
Suzy, however, didn’t acknowledge his greeting. Her gaze was fixed, her voice sharp with urgency. "Where is my husband, Davis?" she demanded, her eyes searching his face for any flicker of truth.
Davis’s composure crumbled. He stammered, his words catching in his throat, unable to meet her direct gaze. "Your Grace... he’s... he’s resting..."
Suzy didn’t heed his hesitant words. Her heart pounding with a terrible premonition, she swept past him, her footsteps echoing on the stone floor as she made a beeline for Ryan’s room. "Ryan!" she called out, her voice filled with desperation, each syllable laced with fear. There was no response, only a heavy, unsettling silence.
She pushed open the door to his room and her breath caught in her throat. There, lying still and pale against the white linens, was Ryan. His face was ashen, his breathing shallow and barely perceptible. The vibrant life she knew seemed to have been drained from him, leaving behind a fragile, almost lifeless form.