The Villainess Just Wants to Study

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟑

Dylan sighed, sinking into the plush cushions of her favorite armchair. Her eyes drifted towards the ornate wall-clock, its polished surface shimmering in the dim light of the room. The pendulum swayed back and forth with a steady rhythm, its ticking echoing through the quiet chamber.

The man seated across from her dipped his quill into the inkwell, his expression focused as he jotted down notes onto the parchment before him. "I heard you took your exams for Faerchester," he said, breaking the peaceful silence. "How did you find them?"

"Surprisingly easy," she replied, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "I was more than prepared for them."

"Well, the exams for women were indeed designed with a focus on skills valued in high society," the man said, his quill still scribbling across the parchment. "What did they test you on? Embroidery, dancing, and etiquette?"

Dylan raised an eyebrow. "That's a rather limiting and presumptuous view of women's education, don't you think?"

The man stopped writing and narrowed his eyes at her. "I am your doctor, my lady," he said firmly. "While I admire your inclination to engage in discussions on social issues, I must remind you that our purpose here is for your health. Let us focus on that, shall we?"

The understanding and treatment of mental health had not yet been developed. As a result, people suffering from trauma had very few options available to them. Instead of receiving proper care and support, they were often isolated from society and left to deteriorate in terrible conditions.

Dylan herself was often bedridden due to her malnourished and weak childhood, but fortunately the Duke hired Dr. Peregrine as her personal physician to oversee her health. Dylan saw an opportunity in Dr. Peregrine's frequent visits and began to confide in him, treating him as her own personal therapist.

She twisted a curl around her finger as she asked, "What are your thoughts on dead animals? You know, the kind that are decomposing and have flies swarming around them?"

Dr. Peregrine raised an eyebrow at Dylan's question, looking mildly concerned. "Why do you ask, my lady?"

He thinks I'm making stuff up again, she mused to herself. He always thinks I'm lying to mess with him.

"Never mind," she said, shaking her head. "How can someone forget about something that's been bothering them? Do you have any suggestions for what can be done?"

The doctor let out a sigh, slightly exasperated by her persistent questioning. "One suggestion is to keep oneself occupied or to actively address the issue at hand."

"Address the issue?" she muttered to herself, checking the clock once more. She was eager for the check-up to be over. "Can we wrap this up soon?" 

"Have your eating habits improved?" he asked, ignoring her previous question. "The Duke, His Grace, told me to check in with the kitchen staff. They said you hardly touch your meals."

Dylan shook her head. "I'm still struggling with my appetite," she admitted. "Despite switching to a lighter diet as you recommended, it's still difficult."

Deep down, she knew her trauma was far more severe than what she was letting on. Dylan often had nightmares and struggled to get a good night's sleep. She also found it hard to eat, which had resulted in her developing a trauma-related eating disorder.

If I want to avoid my own death, I need to get better, she thought to herself.  It's better to talk about it than to lash out. 

"I see," the Doctor said, jotting down a few notes as he spoke.