Bad woman, am I pretending to be bad?

Chapter 179 Treatment and Selfishness

Her fingertips sank deep into the fabric of the velvet armchair, and as the sound reached her ears, the girl's knuckles turned a sickly pale blue.

The girl in the masterpiece Eliza never shed a tear because of the torment of hysteria and epilepsy, nor did she sob in the face of rumors and gossip. Yet, in front of her closest doctor, she could not suppress her inner fragility and guilt.

She believed that accepting Pritt's treatment was a breach of faith with Dr. Bella, a betrayal of morality despite having entrusted everything, an unforgivable desecration of friendship and even affection.

Therefore, she feared the beautiful woman's accusations, her deliberately distant tone, and even more so, the indifference that meant they were no longer close.

Fortunately——

Charlotte has no reason to do so, nor will she.

Gazing at the girl's trembling shoulders, her curled-up figure resembled a butterfly drenched by a downpour, even her once-proud waist bent into a fragile arc, a far cry from the graceful posture that captivated thousands of viewers on stage.

Charlotte then parted her lips slightly, her eyes brimming with gentle light.

"Don't torture yourself like this, good girl."

"I have never questioned it. It is perfectly normal to be caught in the tug-of-war between family, society and self in this world. Everyone will be caught in the choices we make."

As she stepped forward, the hem of her skirt brushed against the sheet music scattered on the Persian carpet.

She knelt on one knee in front of the armchair, palms facing upward, like the guiding angel depicted in a church stained glass window. This posture allowed her gaze to be slightly lower than the patient's, creating no sense of oppression—only their eyes met directly.

"On the contrary, I feel more guilty for arriving too late and not being able to stop their pushing and oppression before everything happened."

The healer's hands gently covered the girl's taut knuckles, the tender touch penetrating through the silk gloves. Charlotte's movements were light, yet carried an undeniable professionalism, slowly smoothing away the paleness that had seeped into the fabric.

"Look, you've pinched yourself until you're bruised." She sighed, taking a small glass bottle from her suitcase. "This is a medicated ointment to apply to the skin to reduce bruising, and it can also relieve muscle tension."

Eliza stared blankly as the nimble hands unscrewed the bottle cap, and the pale purple liquid slowly poured down. When the cool liquid touched her skin, she involuntarily flinched.

"Does it hurt?" Charlotte immediately slowed down her penetration.

The girl shook her head, but the tears in her beautiful eyes only intensified.

This wasn't physical pain, but a deeper, indescribable sorrow. She noticed the doctor's lowered eyelashes, on which the sunlight streaming in from the French windows danced like a butterfly's wings.

The ointment melted into a warm amber color on her fingertips, flowing like a gentle stream in her heart. She couldn't see a delicate face, only a pair of slender hands slowly moving downwards, sometimes circling along the joints, sometimes pressing against the taut veins. The fragrance filling the room gradually dispelled the previously stagnant air.

An involuntary soft moan escaped her lips, adding a blush to Eliza's earlobe.

She was clearly being shown compassion by the doctor, yet she couldn't suppress her own feelings, leading to a sense of shame. She always acted this way, exposing her most vulnerable side to Isabella, who always responded with professionalism and patience.

"I...I'm so sorry..." Eliza's voice was barely audible.

"Shh—" Charlotte pressed her fingertips to her lips beforehand, "There are no apologies in the examination room, only honesty."

The sound of a gardener pruning shrubs drifted in from outside the window, the shears snapping shut and sending delicate leaves fluttering down. This everyday sound inexplicably reminded the girl of the day of the premiere, when she overheard whispers from the audience backstage—it was just like that then, all the sounds were muffled by frosted glass, only the presence of the person in front of her was clearly tangible.

So she decided to speak up.

“Because, I really wanted to refuse, I really didn’t want to let him down, but my elder brother needed financial and power support, and Dikbatov needed a flawless celebrity.” The girl’s throat bobbed as she struggled to organize her thoughts. “Yesterday’s banquet has already become half a scandal, flowing through everyone’s lips and teeth.”

Unbeknownst to many, the iron gates of the Dikbatov family's ornate manor had become covered in fine dust due to neglect over the years.

The separation between the powerful and the downtrodden seems to have happened overnight.

"As the last actress in the family, I need to take responsibility. I can no longer drag my ailing body along like this, I can no longer worry about fainting and panic attacks all the time, and I can no longer let my organs wander around in my body, frightening the audience and even harming you."

Upon hearing this, Charlotte continued what she was doing, but instead looked up into those uneasy blue eyes.

She smiled and shook her head, saying, "Don't use words like 'let down,' and there's no need to feel ashamed. Medical exploration is a long road, and every doctor has their own insights."

“What I care about is never who is treating you, but whether the treatment itself is beneficial to you. If—” the kind doctor paused, “if Dr. Pritt’s method can truly alleviate your pain, I will applaud him.”

"But I can only trust Dr. Bella..."

Charlotte's hand paused for a moment as she saw her reflection in Eliza's eyes—an image so small, yet occupying the entirety of Eliza's vision.

A moment of rescue, a moment of care, has led to this current infatuation; it's truly hard to know whether to like it or not.

Should she continue? Should she, for the sake of pleasure, ruin another good girl unnecessarily?

In the end, the beautiful woman simply sighed softly and placed the medicine bottle on the coffee table beside her. "You know what? Every time you endure the pain with such steadfastness, it reminds me of a petrel in a storm."

This analogy made Eliza's eyes widen slightly.

“They are so fragile, yet they always dance on the crest of the wave,” Charlotte continued, her fingers gently stroking the girl's loose hair. “That's why I stay closer to you. I always think, if only I could take some of the weight off your shoulders…”

Before she could finish speaking, a soft, warm touch suddenly enveloped her wrist. Eliza had grabbed her without her noticing, the grip so tight it almost left finger marks on her delicate skin.

"Don't take me away..." The girl's voice was unusually stubborn, heavy and cloying, "As long as... as long as you're still willing to look at me..."

The afternoon sun shone through the lace curtains, casting dappled twilight shadows on their clasped hands.

Charlotte felt that this always elegant and proper girl was now expressing her dependence in the most straightforward way—like a ship sailing at night clinging to its last lighthouse.

“Of course I’ll be watching you.” She grasped the trembling hand in return. “Not only as a doctor, but also as…”

The conversation paused subtly here.

Charlotte lowered her eyes, the shadows cast by her long eyelashes concealing the emotions within. A feeling that transcended the doctor-patient relationship surged deep within her chest, causing her to hesitate for the first time beneath her professional facade.

Of course, this was just a perfunctory disguise.

But Eliza seemed to have caught this moment of hesitation. She suddenly leaned forward, her lavender-scented hair brushing against Eliza's cheek.

"Bella..." A soft, breathy voice whispered in her ear, "May I... hold you?"

The request was so simple, yet so heavy. Charlotte saw the hope and fear flickering in the girl's eyes—she was afraid of being rejected, as if afraid of losing her last safe haven.

Without a word, the healer simply opened her arms. The next moment, a soft, warm body nestled into her embrace, trembling slightly. Eliza buried her face in the crook of her shoulder, her breath warm and moist through the fabric.

"I've played so many roles in the opera house, countless souls have been cast upon me..." A muffled voice came from his chest, "but I still don't know how to play myself well..."

Charlotte's hand hovered in mid-air before gently landing on the girl's slender back. She could feel the delicate bones beneath her palm rising and falling with each sob, like a butterfly trapped in a cocoon.

“No performance is required,” she said softly. “With me, you only need to be Eliza, not Dikbatov, not an opera star, just a doctor and patient, just friends and friends.”

The body in his arms stiffened for a moment, then pressed closer, expressing boundless affection through intimate gestures.

"That consultation meeting..." A whisper lingered in her ear, carrying a humble plea, "Will you come?"

The woman did not reply immediately. Her gaze swept over the invitations scattered on the dressing table, their gold-embossed edges gleaming coldly in the sunlight.

“I will be there,” she promised at the end, “but not as an opponent, but as… your safety rope.”

The metaphor made Eliza straighten up slightly. The tears in her eyes had not yet dried, but they already shimmered with a faint light, like the first rays of dawn after a storm.

"Like the threads of Ariadne in 'Seven Veils'?" The girl subconsciously quoted the line she knew best.

A gentle smile appeared on the doctor's lips. "Yes, but this time..." She gently wiped away the tears on the other person's cheek, "I will make sure the thread never breaks."

Outside the window, twilight began to paint the sky. In the distance, the sound of an organ practice drifted in, a certain note repeating itself, like an unyielding persistence. Eliza gazed at Charlotte in the backlight, and suddenly felt that the auditory hallucinations that had troubled her for so long had vanished, leaving only the steady breathing of the person before her.

"Can I... be willful just one more time?" she pleaded softly.

Charlotte raised an eyebrow, signaling her to continue.

"Can you stay tonight...?" Eliza's fingertips unconsciously traced the lines of the doctor's sleeve. "Just one night..."

This request crossed the line of the doctor-patient relationship, a fact both were well aware of. But at this moment, in the twilight where the setting sun bathed everything in a honey-colored glow, even the rules seemed to soften.

"Okay." Without further hesitation, Charlotte heard herself say, "But there's a condition—"

She reached out and gently removed the hair clip from Eliza's hair, her movements as delicate as if she were handling a fragile work of art.

"You need to get a good night's sleep and then take your medication on time." The doctor's tone regained its professional gentleness, but the smile in his eyes betrayed more. "Can this willful young lady do that?"

Eliza nodded slightly, her black hair cascading over her shoulders in a joyful arc.

She took Charlotte's arm and then boldly and quietly slid it down to touch the doctor's fingertips, as if testing the waters, or as if making a silent request.

Charlotte didn't pull her hand away, but merely slightly closed her fingers, offering a warm response. She heard a barely audible sigh beside her, filled with contentment and hope.

At this moment, no words are needed.

They remained in this position as the maids gently knocked on the door to announce breakfast.

The rising morning light dispelled the night, filtering through clasped fingers and casting intertwined silhouettes on the carpet—like a pantomime, silently telling a monologue more sincere than any script.

......

Soft breaths pattered against her skin. As she gently withdrew her arm, which had been numb from Eliza's pillow, it was already the morning of the second day.

Feeling a sense of peace as she let go of the object, the girl unconsciously frowned in her sleep, subconsciously searching for that warmth, only to grasp at a lingering wisp of lavender scent.

"I'm sorry, Eliza, I have to go now. I'll come see you later."

It is a sincere apology, a silent farewell, a premeditated and unsettling thought, and a lie told from beginning to end.

Clearing her mind, Charlotte tucked the blanket around her friend just as a gentle knock sounded on the flimsy door.

“Dr. Bella,” the old butler said, standing outside the door with a troubled expression, “Mr. Theodore von is waiting for you in the study.”

She then left, and before she even reached the study, she saw that figure at the end of the corridor.

The hanging coal lamp illuminated the dark blue-black sky. The head of the household, who always paid attention to his appearance, had a loose bow tie and his suit jacket was still stained with face powder and wine, clearly indicating that he had just experienced a sleepless night.

“I have said that Eliza’s condition is not something to worry about, and she should not be in the same room with me.”

He stood blocking the narrow passageway, the sound like sandpaper rubbing together.

"How dare you! How could you let her in!"

His anger, like a raging fire, manifested in his curses, casting a mottled red mark on the man's face.

“Sir, you were not here last night, so we cannot make the decision. And Miss has always been lenient with this Lady Bella.”

This is an explanation for the attendant's panic.

"That's enough, Isabella. I've been lenient with you enough. Do you even know what you're doing?"

“I’m just fulfilling my duty as a doctor.” Unmoved by the tone of those who came before her, Charlotte’s voice remained gentle, yet carried an undeniable firmness. “When personal matters involve the safety of patients, every doctor has the right to speak. Eliza needs to feel secure, especially before making major medical decisions.”

"A sense of security?" Theodore sneered. "What kind of mind-control drug did you give her? Ever since she met you, she's refused all kinds of social activities and just waits for your visit all day long!"

He grabbed a porcelain bottle from the side and smashed it on the ground. "Do you know that the whole city is laughing at us now, saying that the Dickbatov family's daughter has been bewitched by a witch! What the family needs is an heir who can make an appearance during the social season, not a coward hiding in the doctor's arms and crying!"

"Unfounded anger is meaningless, Mr. Theodore von. On what grounds do you speak these words? Are you an older brother who couldn't even take care of his sick sister? Or—" She glanced meaningfully at the marks on the clothing, "some outwardly glamorous but inwardly decadent and incompetent person who indulges in pleasure?"

“Even I was fortunate enough to join the Steam Church, which gave me a glimpse into the secrets of the world. I don’t believe that you are completely unaware of Eliza’s condition and only have a superficial understanding.”

Regardless of right or wrong, Theodore could not answer. To do so would reveal his neglect of his sister, while to do so would prove his hypocrisy in knowing the truth but failing to act.

“You can certainly use your sister as a bargaining chip at the ballroom dance.” She took a step forward, the hem of her white coat easily sweeping across the broken porcelain on the floor—

"And I can simply see her as a patient who lacks care."

Chapter 180 Deviation and Medical Meeting

Three days later, the central auditorium of the Royal Medical College was packed with people, with no seats available.

The nobles were dressed in elegant formal attire, the scholars whispered among themselves, and the journalists' pens scratched across the paper.

Unlike this trip, Charlotte wore a veil and sat discreetly in the back row, while Adeline stood beside her in an almost 'invisible' state—her body was made of extremely fine metal particles, which almost blended into the air under the refraction of light.

"It seems our Dr. Prit is quite adept at creating hype." The mechanical beauty's voice was transmitted through thought, the metallic resonance deliberately suppressed. "Several newspapers in Florence have devoted their entire front pages to announcing this 'epoch-making treatment'."

Charlotte nodded slightly, her gaze passing through the throng of people and landing on the central examination table.

In the center stood a strange machine—its brass casing was covered with gears and coils, and several wires connected to glass electrode tubes; its overall shape was somewhere between a scientific instrument and a stage prop.

"Is this what they call an 'electromagnetic therapy device'?" she wondered to herself.

"A crude imitation." Adeline's denial was based on current observations, rational and accurate. "It has serious design flaws: incorrect electrode spacing, insufficient insulation thickness, and even more ridiculous is that so-called 'regulating valve'—"

"It even contained bottles of liquor, I guess to give the operator courage."

A burst of enthusiastic applause interrupted their conversation.

Today’s speaker, Bachelor Pritt, stepped forward wearing an overly stiff white lab coat, his short, slicked-back hair styled into an elegant slicked-back look.

As he bowed to the audience, Charlotte noticed a noticeable burn scar on the back of his neck.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" Upon hearing this, Pritt raised his head and opened his arms wide with confidence. "On behalf of the Florence Medical Association, I would like to thank you all for participating in this open clinic. I salute you."

"Friends, it is foreseeable that the age of science has arrived, and the age of humanity has arrived! Please share with me the honor of witnessing the progress that science and technology have made for medicine and even the world."

His voice sounded as if it had been sanded, and his words, both spoken and written, were full of beautiful phrases that people loved to hear.

"Please allow me to introduce our volunteer again—Ms. Elisa von Dikbatov, who is dedicated to medicine and is about to regain her health."

The man snapped his fingers, and at his signal, Eliza was helped into the room by two nurses.