I Held the Leash of a Blind Beast (1 Chapters Left to Complete) - Chapter 15
“What exactly was the medicine you gave to His Grace the Archduke?”
Rona was flustered. Illeon had clearly told her to ask the butler about the records of the medicine he had taken—if it was something he’d never ingested before, he’d said he’d try it.
But seeing the faint light emanating from the flower fade and the petals wilt, she had panicked so badly that she immediately brewed the herbal tea. In her haste, she hadn’t even thought to consult Bernar. After all, she’d been certain this flower was the very one from the original story that had restored Illeon’s sight, so she’d let her guard down.
Yet now, having to explain it in front of Bernar while Illeon suffered so terribly from it felt like sheer agony.
“I don’t really… know.”
“You don’t know?”
The butler’s eyes sharpened, evidently finding her words irresponsible.
“How dare you offer something you don’t even understand as medicine to His Grace!”
Rona shrank further into herself—this was the first time she’d ever seen Bernar raise his voice. The words spilling from her lips sounded like pitiful excuses.
“It’s definitely something he’s never taken before. I remember hearing the name of the medicine, but I’ve forgotten it. I’ve kept trying to recall, but nothing comes to mind…”
“You gave such a thing to the Archduke?”
“Hic.”
Rona didn’t know what to do. Tears kept spilling uncontrollably. Yet even seeing her like this, Bernar remained furious.
“Where did you obtain that medicine? What’s your source of information? I must verify it myself.”
The butler shifted his demeanor coldly.
“I c-can’t reveal that.”
She couldn’t possibly say she knew this place was the world within a book—the world of *The Flower of the Blind Beast*.
“I only have something like a prophecy that lets me see the future.”
“What on earth do you mean by that, Miss Rona? Didn’t you say you’d lost your memories and couldn’t recall anything from before? Could it be you took this position under false pretenses to harm His Grace…?”
“No! That’s absolutely not it! But even if I told you, you wouldn’t understand.”
Bernar’s expression hardened.
“Once His Grace regains consciousness, we’ll discuss how to deal with you, Miss Rona.”
Rona barely managed to nod.
From the butler’s perspective, his reaction was entirely justified. She’d given the Archduke something unverified and of unknown origin.
Ever since Illeon’s days on the battlefield, there had been countless attempts to poison him. Thus, even basic ingredients like vegetables and meat were sourced exclusively from farms personally selected by servants of the ducal estate.
“I’m prepared for whatever comes.”
“Until then, serve His Grace with utmost caution and humility.”
“Yes.”
As she stepped out of the butler’s room, a long sigh escaped her.
“I thought it was because I’d prepared the medicine incorrectly.”
But that wasn’t it. Apparently, he suffered like this every time he received treatment.
She should have felt relieved knowing it wasn’t her fault—but the word “relieved” simply wouldn’t come.
She finally understood where his despair came from—the despair that made him choose to abandon his humanity and remain a beast.
Rona was an outsider.
The fewer than ten servants remaining in this mansion were all comrades who’d crossed invisible battle lines together. Their unwavering loyalty stemmed from the abyss of despair Illeon constantly displayed.
Rona quietly entered Illeon’s bedroom.
Illeon now lay still, breathing softly—as if his earlier seizure had been a lie. He looked pitiful. His shirt, torn to shreds from thrashing in pain, fully exposed his bare torso. Dried blood clung to his fingertips, and his face and body were smeared with sweat and bloodstains.
‘Illeon.’
She wanted to do anything for him. Rona dipped a cloth in lukewarm water and gently began wiping his forehead and face, intending to clean him and perhaps apply some ointment.
“Ugh… huh?”
A sound came from his mouth, where the butler had placed a cloth to keep him from biting his tongue.
“Uwaa?”
It sounded almost as if he’d called out “Rona,” just like he always did.
“My lord Illeon.”
When she called his name, Illeon nodded.
“Can you hear my voice?”
Seeing him nod again as if he truly understood, Rona felt tears welling up. She forced her voice down, trying not to cry, and her throat tightened painfully.
“Is it uncomfortable? Should I remove the cloth?”
He nodded quickly, as if strongly agreeing.
Though frightened—having just seen Bernar remove it—Rona carefully took out the cloth covering his mouth.
“Hah…”
Illeon gasped for air. Rona feared he might be in pain again. She couldn’t think of anything comforting to say; knowing this agony was part of his daily life only made it worse.
“You’re surprised, aren’t you?”
Illeon was the first to speak.
“I thought you might run away.”
“Why would you think that?”
“There aren’t many people left in the mansion. Even men couldn’t endure seeing me like this.”
Now that she thought about it, of the female staff remaining, only two were left—the gardener and the cook—both distant from directly attending to Illeon.
“Rona.”
“Yes?”
“Don’t run away.”
“D-do I look like someone who’d run away?”
Illeon gave a faint smile.
“I want to believe otherwise—that at least one maid wouldn’t flee even after seeing me like this. But if I hoped for that and even you ran away, I’d be disappointed.”
“I won’t run away.”
“I’m not joking. This is the first and last time you’ll ever see me like this.”
He murmured that he’d tried every possible treatment, so this pain was rare now. His calm expression only made him look sadder.
“You’ll definitely get better.”
“I drank the herbal tea you gave me. If my eyes heal, I’ll officially make you part of the Archduke’s household.”
At Illeon’s words, Rona nearly jumped.
“No! Please don’t say that. Serving you is simply my duty. Making me part of the Archduke’s household—I’ve never once wished to become a retainer of your house!”
“Who said anything about making you a retainer? I’m… *cough*.”
Illeon’s usually neat lips were cracked and parched.
“My… throat’s… dry. *Cough*.”
“Please stop talking. I’ll bring you some water.”
Rona hurried off and returned with a water bottle.
“But how should I give you the water?”
Illeon’s arms and legs were all bound tightly to the bed.
“Should I untie these as well?”
“No. Don’t.”
Illeon shook his head.
“I might have another episode at dawn.”
Binding him meant they considered him in a temporary calm. But if they untied his hands and he harmed himself again, the entire ducal estate would have to mobilize.
“Then how should I give you water?”
Should she pour it directly into his mouth? What if it went up his nose?
Just as Rona fretted over this trivial dilemma—
“Feed it to me mouth-to-mouth.”
At Illeon’s words, Rona’s eyes widened as if her neck had stretched.
“M-mouth-to-mouth? What do you mean by…?”
Stammering, she looked flustered, and Illeon spoke with exasperation.
“What are you thinking? I’m a patient.”
Above his eyes—long swathed in dried blood—his eyebrows furrowed sadly into a frown.
“The butler used to do it before.”
“Oh…”
Rona looked at the water bottle in her hand. If even Bernar had done it, she surely could too.
“If it’s too much, I’ll wake the butler—”
The moment Rona’s hand brushed his cheek, Illeon flinched mid-sentence. As Rona, holding water in her mouth, gently touched his lips, they parted.
“…”
The first time had been difficult, but the second and third times came easily.
‘I’m a mother bird.’
Right now, a hungry chick in the nest was opening its beak.
Rona tried hard to align herself with the natural order.
Otherwise, she might find herself focusing on the feel of Illeon’s lips or the scent of sandalwood that brushed her nose the moment they touched. Oblivious to Rona’s inner turmoil, Illeon calmly and effortlessly accepted the water she fed him.
After giving him a few more mouthfuls, Illeon sighed deeply, as if he might survive after all.
“Hoo…”
Rona fetched more lukewarm water and wiped Illeon’s face again. She wished she could clean his body and change his clothes, but with both arms bound, she couldn’t put on a fresh shirt. She sighed softly and applied ointment to the cuts on his forehead and around his eyes. Illeon winced, his eyes scrunching in discomfort.
“Now please get some rest.”
Just as Rona finished tidying up the scattered items and stood—
“I can’t sleep.”
Understandable. Perhaps falling asleep frightened him. Wouldn’t anyone feel anxious, never knowing when pain might strike?
“Read to me.”
“Shall I? What book would you like?”
“The Pallegara War Chronicles.”
Rona frowned.
“Don’t you want any other book besides this one?”
Hadn’t she fallen asleep last time while reading it?
“I like this book.”
Sighing, Rona fetched the thick volume of the Pallegara War Chronicles. Bound in leather with elegant gold leafing, the hardcover book was so heavy and solid it could double as a weapon.
‘I mustn’t fall asleep while reading again.’
She was already exhausted. Just witnessing Illeon’s seizure had been incredibly stressful. She longed to collapse in her room, but seeing him so pitiful, she wanted to fulfill any request he made.
‘Read clearly and distinctly.’
If she read with extra effort, she wouldn’t drift off like last time. Rona focused her eyes intently.
“The Trophalgarans were a people unfamiliar with war. They coveted nothing belonging to others, and their martial arts resembled self-cultivation. Trophalgar’s rebellion against Palermo was an unprecedented event in history.”
Rona read on clearly and steadily.
“Palermo underestimated Trophalgar’s military strength. This was Palermo’s grave mistake. In the second battle, Trophalgar fielded roughly 20,000 infantry and 8,000 cavalry. Five hundred cannons stood in battery, with 1,200 artillerymen ready to fire in rotation.”
Rona’s mind began to blur.
“Behind them stood 6,500 shield-bearing assault troops… lined up, ahem. Following the assault troops were 3,000 archers. But Trophalgar had planned a feint. From the rear, 2,500 cavalry… would collapse Palermo’s aligned ranks… from the side… collapse…”
Thud.
Rona’s head dropped onto Illeon’s bed.
“She’s asleep.”
Illeon chuckled. This time, once he got up, he resolved to give the author of the Pallegara War Chronicles a generous writing sponsorship.
Rona’s tousled hair brushed against his tightly bound arms. It tickled slightly—but not unpleasantly—so Illeon turned his head toward her.
Beyond the darkness filled with pain, Rona’s faint fragrance drifted to him. The darkness covering his eyes was endless and suffocating, yet amidst his familiar loneliness, hearing Rona’s breathing gave him a small measure of comfort.
Suddenly, he found his own smile unfamiliar. Every time Illeon underwent eye treatment, he endured this agony.
It was utterly horrifying. Sometimes it felt as if something inside his eyes clawed and tore at them. He’d even wished to lose his eyes entirely if it meant ending this torment—better never to see again than suffer like this.
Each treatment began with a sliver of hope, only to end, after unbearable agony, with no effect—as always.
That he, in the midst of such a seizure, could smile like this felt utterly strange. It was a situation where laughter should be impossible—yet before Rona, it came naturally.
It wasn’t quite “hope.” Something different. Why did her mere presence give him such strength? Illeon was astonished by his own transformation.
“I’m relying on you, Rona. I’ll never let you go for the rest of my life.”
Male lead is a Divorced Husband
She said to him: “Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change it!”
Liu Changning transmigrated into a female cannon fodder character in a female-dominant novel.
After reading the first half of the novel’s plot, the first thing she did upon transmigration was to divorce the Pan Jinlian-style male protagonist she had just married.
She indulged herself, pretending to be ugly and poor.
But as time passed, the way that man looked at her became more and more unusual…
Liu Changning was dumbfounded: Tell me, what makes you like me? I’ll change!
――
This lifetime, Pei Yuanshao was rejected by the same woman twice!
The first time, she drove him away. Forced by the situation, he endured the waves of anger in his heart, yielding and humbling himself.
That person lay slanted on a rocking chair, her sallow face emotionless: “If you don’t want a divorce, go cook!”
Pei Yuanshao’s face was dark and gloomy: “You!”
The second time, after the crisis in Jinling City was resolved, the new emperor sent someone to pick him up. He turned around, stammering: “I… I have to go. If you keep me…”
That person lay on the kang bed, her back to him, as if she had long anticipated this day, crisp and clear: “Goodbye!”
Pei Yuanshao was so angry his fingers trembled: “You… you!”
The mission of family and country made him restrain himself, averting his eyes and turning to leave this broken household.
Two years later, they met again. Seeing her ethereal face, his body shook like a sieve.
“She was originally a ‘she’!”
At the Qionglin Banquet, the top scholar of the imperial examination, a talented person with exceptional speech and conduct, all the unmarried young gentlemen from aristocratic families looked at her with shy and timid eyes.
The peerless imperial official Pei Yuanshao felt the anger in his heart erupt. He pointed at the woman surrounded by the crowd at the Qionglin Banquet, his thin lips slightly curled: “Little sister, I wants that person to be the wife-master of my Mingde Prince Manor.”
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Haha, just picturing this is so hilarious. Imagine Duke Illeon fan girling.
The real blind guy is here; calling someone else’s woman his 😂