System: Build My Own Territory Chapter 842 - 266: Help Me Get Dressed (10K)_5

Suppressing the sorrow weighing on his heart, Hewitt set the medicine box slung over his shoulder onto the bedside cabinet.

He declared, "Sir, I will now proceed with your medication treatment!"

Right as Hewitt prepared to unlock the medicine box, Donovan labored to part his lips, his speech stumbling and fragmented.

"Hewitt... no need, there’s no need anymore..."

Hearing Donovan’s words, Hewitt responded swiftly.

"Sir, what are you saying?"

"Your wounds demand weekly medicine changes, or they’ll only get worse!"

Donovan gave a weak smile, his voice feeble.

"Hewitt, my condition... I understand it better than anyone."

"No more treatments are necessary..."

"Rather than waste coin on a man like me who’s dying, it’s wiser to..."

"Craft one more suit of armor, one extra weapon, for the Ducas Clan, for Mark..."

Hewitt went quiet.

A moment passed.

Hewitt inquired, "Sir, is there anything else you want me to handle?"

Reclining in bed, Donovan fixed his gaze on the utterly dark ceiling overhead.

He echoed Hewitt’s question, "Do something?"

His words hung in the air.

The bedroom sank into total silence.

So still that a pin dropping would echo.

Several minutes ticked by.

Donovan spoke once more, "Hewitt, I have some words for you to deliver to Mark, will you?"

Hewitt lifted a brow, "Sir, you’ve still got time; why not tell him yourself?"

Donovan shook his head, "Some things I’ll say, but that doesn’t guarantee they’ll hear me out."

"Plus, certain words I can’t utter in their presence..."

"Yet with you here, I can voice them freely."

Hewitt nodded.

He stayed silent, awaiting Donovan’s continuation.

Donovan started, "Tell Mark he’s now Marquis Ducas, leader of the Ducas Clan!"

"The Ducas Clan’s fate, that immense weight, landed on him the moment he claimed the marquis title."

"I, Donovan, bore it for decades, toiling for the entire clan."

"Inform him I regret ridiculing his bold dream of swaying Imperial Authority before."

"Mark’s vision and moves are right."

"As a Great Lord, he must ascend no matter the price, crush every obstacle in his path regardless."

"Even if those obstacles are his own blood relatives."

"That’s the path to lift the Ducas Clan higher."

At these words.

Hewitt’s frame shuddered abruptly.

He stared at Donovan in the bed, eyes brimming with dread and unease.

He comprehended.

The Donovan lying there knew all about what Mark had ordered him to do!

Donovan, sensing his thoughts, calmed him.

"Don’t tense up, don’t fear."

"I’m worthless now anyway."

"You, the physician, must keep serving the Ducas Clan."

Even with Donovan’s comfort, Hewitt trembled uncontrollably like chaff in wind.

Donovan ignored Hewitt’s look and pressed on.

"Mark’s approach is the right one!"

"My sole regret is he’s too green compared to me."

"Back in my youth, to seize this title, I slew my own father and brothers with my hands!"

"Until he takes the title from me, he can’t act further."

"Even after gaining the marquis position, he let me linger this long..."

Thirty minutes passed.

Hewitt emerged from Donovan’s bedroom.

Yet.

He didn’t stray far.

A tall, lean silhouette appeared in his view.

Hewitt instantly knew it was Marquis Mark Ducas.

He hastened his steps toward Mark.

Reaching Mark’s side, he trailed him to the far-off open balcony.

Mark’s voice drifted to Hewitt.

"Doctor Hewitt, how’s Donovan’s state?"

Hewitt didn’t delay, answering at once.

"Marquis, Lord Donovan turned down my medication treatment..."

Mark, ahead, stopped dead in his tracks.

He whirled around, eyeing Hewitt almost accusingly.

"Refused?"

Sensing Mark’s mood shift, Hewitt grasped the implication.

He clarified quickly, "Marquis, Lord Donovan claims he knows his own body best and needs no more care."

"Also, Lord Donovan asked me to pass a message to you, Marquis."

Mark’s brows knit, he paused briefly.

"Out with it!"

...

The next morning at dawn.

Lynn stirred from sleep, gradually parting his eyelids.

Beside him, curled in his arms, Janet lay fully exposed to his sight.

Her delicate, pale cheeks bore a soft crimson tint.

After a full night’s sleep.

The blush lingered still.

Near her eyes with upturned lashes, a clear streak of tears remained...

Now, Janet’s breaths came steady.

Her sideways pose outlined a seductive curve.

The slim waist, slim enough for one hand, led to bountiful snow-white swells.

On that pale skin, faint red marks from frolic lingered.

Lynn’s mouth hooked into a smile as his eyes roamed downward along her form.