Chapter 50 The Whole Family Joins Forces, Wanting to Cripple Her Legs
"This is utterly absurd." Patrick said in a low voice. "You actually believe such nonsense?"
Michael hurried forward: "Father, I specially went to Saint Elias Monastery to get this. The divination monk even wrote a letter. You'll understand once you read it."
He presented the parchment letter with both hands. Patrick read through it line by line with skepticism, and when he looked up at Cressida again, there was already some wavering in his eyes.
"Mr. Hamilton, this concerns your life and safety. If I hadn't repeatedly verified the monk's credibility, I would never let Cressida take this risk." Clio's tone was earnest, but her eyes were completely cold.
"Your leg ailment has lingered without healing. The monk says this is caused by vengeful spirits. Only if your eldest son or eldest daughter carries a wooden plaque carved with your birthday and walks across a blade mountain to take the disaster for you, can you survive this calamity."
After speaking, Clio turned to stare at Cressida: "Cressida, as the eldest daughter of the Hamilton family, are you unwilling to show even a little filial piety to your father?"
Cressida's eyes were as cold as a deep pool: "Mother, have you considered that if I walk across this blade mountain, my feet will just turn into a pile of mush?"
They didn't want her to "take the disaster" at all—they wanted to completely destroy her.
Rose quickly stepped forward, pretending to comfort her: "Don't worry, Cressida. This blade mountain looks dangerous, but it's actually harmless. As long as you wrap your feet in oil-soaked linen, the blades can't cut through at all."
As soon as Rose finished speaking, Tatum and a maid came in carrying two rolls of heavy oilcloth. Clearly they had prepared everything thoroughly, just waiting for her to agree.
"Since it can't cut through, why doesn't Rose make this trip for me?" Cressida looked at Rose with a half-smile.
Rose hurriedly stepped back half a step, lowering her head to avoid her gaze: "Don't tease me, Cressida. I don't have that kind of courage."
Cressida turned slowly toward Michael, her tone flat but sharp: "Since the monk said either the eldest son or eldest daughter would do, Michael, as the eldest son with no military duties at the moment, you're the perfect candidate to show filial piety. You could take the disaster for Father and demonstrate your devotion—wouldn't that be more appropriate than me?"
"Absolutely not!" Clio rejected the idea without thinking. "Michael is about to be promoted to deputy officer of the cavalry regiment. If he injures his legs, it will completely ruin his career!"
"So Mother does know the blade mountain will actually hurt people." Cressida raised an eyebrow, her voice suddenly turning sharp. "Michael's future is precious, but my feet don't matter? Tell me, Mother, in your heart, do you even still consider me your biological daughter?"
Cressida's gaze pierced through Clio's pretense like a blade, making her instinctively clutch her handkerchief.
"Cressida, you're the eldest daughter. You should bear the family's responsibilities!" Clio forced herself to stay calm, pulling out that same emotional blackmail argument again.
Michael stepped forward, pointing at Cressida's nose and scolding: "Stop making excuses! One question—are you walking across this blade mountain or not? If you won't even take a disaster for Father, then stop using the Hamilton family name!"
"The Hamilton family has provided you with everything. Now Father needs you to give something back, but you're backing down. You don't deserve to be Hamilton blood!"
This Michael, who had never been to a battlefield and only received his reserve officer title because of Cressida's military achievements, actually had the nerve to accuse her of "backing down."
Emma suddenly dropped to her knees, her voice choked with tears: "Mr. Patrick Hamilton, Mrs. Clio Hamilton! Please have mercy, don't make Ms. Cressida Hamilton go! Ms. Cressida Hamilton fought at the border fortress for years. Her feet suffered frostbite—they absolutely cannot take blade injuries! Please have some compassion."
Emma kowtowed while pleading, soon leaving bloody marks on her forehead. But except for Cressida, all the Hamilton family members present remained expressionless, as if Emma kneeling before them was just an insignificant object.
Cressida bent down to help Emma up, gently pressing her handkerchief against the bleeding forehead, then turned to look at Patrick, who had remained silent, her tone terrifyingly calm: "Father, do you also think I should send my feet onto the blade mountain for your leg ailment?"
Patrick avoided her gaze. After a long while, he finally spoke quietly: "The divination monk's letter was clear—this is evil spirits at work. According to ancient customs, if my own flesh and blood suffers this ordeal for me, the leg ailment will heal. Otherwise, this pain will probably plague me for another whole year."
No wonder countless medicines had no effect. Patrick actually believed the monk's nonsense now.
"Cressida," he raised his head, his tone carrying a hint of finality, "just walk a couple of symbolic steps. Just go through the motions."
Hearing this, Emma's crying became even more desperate. Cressida had risked her life on the battlefield, only to receive such cold treatment from her family.
But Cressida's heart was strangely calm. She had long since witnessed these people's selfish nature. In her previous life, they had drained her value this way, enjoying wealth and glory by stepping on her corpse. Patrick, who had just been doubting whether Clio set the fire, had instantly pushed his daughter Cressida into a desperate situation for his own pain.
Cressida's fingertips in her sleeve trembled slightly from suppressed killing intent. If she wanted, the curved blades on the ground could instantly become tools to harvest lives, killing everyone present. But she couldn't. Killing them might vent her anger, but it would ruin her reputation and ultimately lead to mutual destruction—too costly.
In less than two seconds, Cressida had suppressed all her murderous intent and spoke calmly: "Father, whether the monk's words are credible aside, I think the real reason your leg ailment hasn't healed is that the medicine isn't right."
"Cressida, you're being unreasonable again! Would a monk from Saint Elias Monastery be wrong?" Michael scolded impatiently.
Cressida didn't even look at him, only staring at Patrick: "I've already sent Emma to fetch a doctor. By my calculation, he should arrive soon."
This stunned everyone present, except Patrick, whose eyes lit up: "Really? Why didn't you say so earlier! This leg has been hurting so much I can't sleep at night."
"I've had this in mind for a while, but it seemed improper to trouble His Majesty over this, so I thought of Dr. Lawson, who has retired from the Royal Medical College." Cressida explained.
Patrick thought for a moment, then his face lit up with joy: "That Dr. Lawson who served as Surgeon General of the Royal Army? I've long heard of his reputation. He's an authority on battlefield trauma surgery! With him treating me, my leg will be saved! But I heard that after retirement, he lives in seclusion and even noble relatives have trouble getting him to come. Can you really get him?"
Cressida smiled faintly: "I had Emma take my brother's military rank token. Dr. Lawson once received a favor from my brother on the battlefield, so he'll definitely come to treat you."
"Good! Good! Cressida, you're the most considerate!" Patrick's attention completely shifted from the blade mountain to the famous doctor Louie Lawson who was about to arrive. He didn't even glance at the dangerous wooden board anymore.
Cressida turned to Clio, her tone leaving no room for argument: "Please, Mother, have Rose prepare the prescriptions from recent days, along with the leftover medicine dregs. When Dr. Lawson arrives, he can examine them."
Rose's face immediately turned ugly, her fingers unconsciously twisting her skirt. But Clio remained calm, as if she already had everything under control.
"Cressida, don't think I don't know what you're up to! Father's medicine was already switched by you!" Michael suddenly attacked, trying to redirect the blame toward Cressida.
Patrick was startled: "What do you mean by that?"
"I saw it with my own eyes last time!" Michael said frantically. "Her maid Emma was sneaking around in the kitchen, taking medicine ingredients out of the pot and throwing them straight into the stove! She was clearly destroying evidence!"
Emma quickly defended herself: "Mr. Michael Hamilton, I told you then—that wasn't Mr. Patrick Hamilton's medicine, it was herbs Ms. Cressida Hamilton uses to help her sleep!"
"Nonsense!" Michael roared. "I specifically kept those medicine dregs and had someone identify them. They weren't sleep-aid herbs at all! Just wait—when the doctor comes, we'll expose your conspiracy first!"
A hint of ferocity flashed in his eyes—this time he would definitely drive Cressida out of the manor. Best if he could pin the crime of "poisoning Patrick" on her. Even if he couldn't cripple her feet, he would make her completely lose her military glory in Clio and Patrick's hearts. From now on, when people mentioned Cressida, they would only think of a vicious woman.
Just imagining Cressida never being able to ride horses or wield swords again, never being able to achieve military merit on the battlefield, Michael couldn't suppress his excitement.
"No need to wait for Dr. Lawson." Clio suddenly spoke, breaking the deadlock. "I've already invited a private doctor to the manor. He should be waiting in the front hall right now. Let him treat Mr. Hamilton first, and the truth will become clear."