The Marquess Lount's room was filled with the pungent smell of medicine, blood, and herbs. The window curtains were tightly drawn, and only the flickering candlelight could illuminate the large room. The sound of shortness of breath and a deep, rough cough sounded like a death bell that kept ringing. Reinhard immediately looked down when he heard the coughing sound. Meanwhile, Cecilia turned to look at the Marquess Lount, who was lying sick on his bed.
On the carved wooden bed, the Marquess Lount lay weakly. His skin was pale, his eyes were sunken and red, and beside his bed were buckets of fresh blood mixed with thick black mucus, which was the effect of the plague that infected him. An old doctor stood not far from him, trembling hands holding a cloth that was dirty with the black blood that came out of Marquess Lount's mouth.
Marquess Lount was a respected noble from the border. But when Cecilia met him, he looked like someone who was on the verge of death.
