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Novel Catalog
Chapter 34
Everyone in the room froze in shock.
They had met countless renowned doctors who had tried to treat Alfred, but this was the first time anyone had asked them to undress him.
Jonathan was the first to recover, his voice cautious. “Is it really necessary?”
Roxanne gave him a quick, bewildered glance. “I’m about to treat Old Mr. Queen. His shirt will only get in the way. Can someone please help? We don’t have much time.”
The room fell into an uneasy silence as everyone exchanged unsure looks. They didn’t understand why his shirt had to be removed, and their confusion was palpable.
Jonathan hesitated, looking at the old man, then at the doctor. After a moment of uncertainty, he finally gritted his teeth and stepped forward, his voice low. “Alright. If you say so.”
Frieda was still frantic. “What kind of treatment is this? Why—”
Before she could finish, her words caught in her throat as she saw Roxanne pull out an old wooden box from her medical kit. It was carefully polished, clearly worn with age. As Roxanne opened it, a scroll-like object was revealed.
When she unrolled it, a sharp breath of surprise escaped everyone in the room. Inside were hundreds of silver needles—some large, some small—neatly arranged and gleaming under the room’s lights.
Frieda’s mouth hung open in disbelief. The sight was enough to silence her, and she swallowed the rest of her words, feeling the weight of the moment.
Roxanne, meanwhile, was completely focused on her task. She selected the needles she needed with practiced precision and began disinfecting them with alcohol, her movements quick and efficient.
No one dared to speak, watching with wide eyes as she prepared for the treatment.
Jonathan, who was struggling to adjust Alfred’s limp body, glanced up, his face strained with effort. The old man was unconscious, completely unresponsive, and his frailty made every movement difficult.
“Careful,” Jonathan muttered as he tried to stabilize Alfred’s form, using one hand to keep the patient’s body steady and the other to remove his shirt.
Lucian, who had been silently observing, finally spoke. His eyes darkened as he saw how much Jonathan was struggling.
He set Estella down gently on the floor, his expression unreadable. “I’ll help Jonathan,” he said in a low voice, stepping forward.
Estella watched her father go with wide eyes but stayed still, obediently following his instructions.
Lucian didn’t wait for an invitation. He moved through the crowd and stood by Jonathan’s side. Without a word, he silently began to help remove Alfred’s shirt. The two men worked together, each careful not to disturb the frail patient.
Jonathan gave a small, grateful nod. “Thanks, Lucian.”
Lucian didn’t respond, his face unreadable as he focused on the task at hand.
Roxanne, though, was not looking at them. She had already turned her attention back to the needles, her focus unwavering. But the moment Lucian appeared at her side, a flicker of something passed through her—something she quickly suppressed. Her eyelashes quivered for just a moment before she returned to her calm exterior.
The tension in the room thickened, and all eyes were on Roxanne as she continued to prepare for the treatment. She was no longer the young, inexperienced doctor they had all initially doubted. Now, she was the one in control. The room, filled with skeptics and medical professionals alike, held its breath, waiting to see what would come next.
