The Lady Nun Vows Revenge - Chapter 241: Chapter 241

When Isabelle handed over the embroidered handkerchief, Eliza caught sight of several faint pinpricks on her fingertips—needle wounds, no doubt. Whether shown deliberately or not, they were there.
Eliza gave them a cursory glance before withdrawing her gaze, her face expressionless. "I told you—I stopped hating you a long time ago. So why bother with gestures that mean nothing to me?"
Isabelle gave a hollow smile. "Maybe they don't mean anything to you, but to me... giving this to you still means something. In fact, it might be the last thing that does mean something."
A long silence followed. But in the end, Eliza still didn't accept the handkerchief.
Just then, Nolan returned from organizing the Black Flag and walked in on the scene. He silently stepped between the two women, blocking Isabelle's view of Eliza with his body.
Facing Eliza, his tone softened. "It's getting colder. The night dew's heavy now. You should head inside before you catch a chill."
With his gentle urging, Eliza allowed herself to be led away.
Behind them, Isabelle stood frozen, watching as Nolan physically shielded Eliza from her. For a split second, her gaze darkened with something vicious—like poison flashing behind her eyes.
That damn man, she thought. No, he can't die yet. I still need him.
Clenching her teeth, Isabelle shoved the handkerchief back into her sleeve and walked away without another word.
She didn't notice that as she turned to leave, Nolan—who had just guided Eliza inside—suddenly stopped at the doorway. His sharp gaze cut through the darkness like a blade, sweeping across Isabelle's back with the deadly calm of a predator.
Later, Eliza sat quietly in her room, collecting herself.
A knock on the door broke her stillness—it was someone Nolan had sent with a basin of hot water. She changed out of her clothes and took a long, steaming bath, letting the warmth soak through her bones and ease her fatigue.
Maybe it was too relaxing.
That night, Eliza dreamed—not a memory, but something more surreal, something she couldn't be sure was even real.
In her dream, she stood in a serene, flower-filled haven. It was peaceful, like a hidden realm untouched by the world.
Then, a gaunt figure appeared—thin and hollow-eyed, clutching a wicker basket full of folded spirit money. She stepped into Eliza's view, knelt in front of a gravestone, and lit candles.
Only then did Eliza see her face.
It was Isabelle. And yet... it wasn't. She was too thin, too pale—like a ghost walking in daylight.
After silently burning the paper offerings, Isabelle finally spoke. Her voice was soft, strange, almost disembodied. "Liza... how foolish you were, giving your heart to those who never deserved it. In the end, the one who buried you... was me, the one you hated most."
Eliza's dream frayed into static.
She woke up not remembering the rest, only the strange ache it left in her chest.
Nolan noticed it at breakfast. "You've been awfully quiet this morning."
Without warning, he reached across the table and pressed the back of his hand to her forehead.
A frown immediately followed. "You're running a fever. You've caught a chill."
Eliza blinked, a little dazed. "No wonder I've felt dizzy since I got up."
"I'm calling a physician," Nolan said immediately, already turning to the door.
Eliza waved a hand. "No need. I'm a physician."
He raised a brow. "Isn't there a saying? A doctor shouldn't treat themselves?"
"It's just a mild fever," Eliza replied as she took out her acupuncture kit. "Not beyond my abilities."
She jabbed herself once to clear her mind, then calmly checked her own pulse.
"It's nothing serious. Some medicine will take care of it."
She might as well have been treating a stranger.
Nolan chuckled. "All right, Dr. Eliza. Prescribe away. I'll go fetch the medicine."
"No need. I brought what I need," she said.
"Well, then at least let me prepare it," Nolan insisted. "You're dizzy as it is—what if you spill the pot and scald yourself? The medicine's not the problem, you are."
Eliza conceded the point and handed him the prescription. "Fine. I'll leave it to you."
And Nolan really did do it himself—boiling the herbs, stirring, and straining, without letting anyone else interfere. He even made Eliza rest while he worked.
Half an hour later, the medicine was ready and the group resumed their journey.
It took two more days to reach Noganlul from Plutonville. Eliza insisted on pressing forward despite her illness, urging Nolan to quicken the pace.
And because of that, the moment they arrived.
Eliza stepped out of the carriage... and collapsed.
The officials waiting to greet them screamed in panic.
"Oh heavens, what happened?!" someone shouted.
Nolan reacted instantly. He caught her before she hit the ground, swept her into his arms, and rushed her into the nearest room.
"Get a doctor! Now!" he barked to the servants.
But just as he stepped back outside, he heard hushed voices whispering:
"Oh no... what if Holy Lady has the plague too? What if she caught it on the road?"
"Silence!" Nolan's voice cut through the murmurs like a whip. His gaze turned ice cold as it swept over the group. "Holy Lady traveled day and night to get here—for your city's sake. She's ill because she pushed herself beyond her limits. If any of you dare to spread another word of filth, don't blame me for drawing my sword."