Her Graceful War Song by Summer's Blaze

Chapter 1249

A delicate curtain separated the bedroom from the inner hall. As Carissa parted the beaded curtain, the soft sound of pearls clinking together echoed in the quiet room.

People said a small room helped preserve energy. For the elderly, the room shouldn't be too spacious, as it could cause the life force to scatter and harm their health.

Thus, the room was modest in size, with carved cherrywood bed positioned to the east and a low couch to the south. A small wardrobe stood nearby, though Carissa had already noticed another wardrobe in the inner hall, suggesting that this one had been specially added.

She glanced around the room, noting the fine, elegant furnishings-everything was of the highest quality. "Lord Gerald," Carissa called softly. When she thought about it, there was no personal grudge between them. Their paths had merely crossed at the wrong time.

Gerald opened his eyes slowly, his dull, murky gaze sweeping the room. Only when he confirmed that it was just her did he sigh wearily.

He was frail, his breathing shallow-indeed, he seemed to be at the very end of his strength.

On the table beside him was a bowl of medicine and a bowl of gruel that was still warm. It seemed someone had tried to feed him, but he had refused.

He lifted a trembling hand and pointed weakly at the gruel.

Carissa looked over at the bowl. "You want some gruel? I'll have someone feed you."

grateful glance at Carissa. Gerald hadn't eaten for

Carissa was here. For this

eating gruel now? She thought for a moment, deciding that perhaps he lacked the

wait

drank little, and the gruel was thin and brewed with nourishing herbs. After finishing nearly half a bowl, he

Gerald still needed him. After eating the gruel

family had naturally only brought

and sat down beside his bed,

were half-closed, and he began to speak in a weak

you said I hadn't fought for anything. Today, I called you

as though it

breath.

a long pause, he continued, "I want to tell you that some things, no matter how hard you fight for, are in vain.

understanding that

It won't succeed, either. The success you see now is but an illusion. In the

and a murky tear slid down from the corner of his

the veins standing out like twisted roots, as he fought