Chapter 115: Chapter 115 Habitual Hand_1
Noon, Aiden returned to Rose Iron Prison and headed straight to the infirmary.
The conversation with Harold that morning echoed in his mind.
"Logically speaking, mere memory loss shouldnât have resulted in such a state," Harold had said at the time.
"You initially asked me to visit Rebecca because of this, didnât you?" Aiden sought confirmation from him.
Aiden agreed with Haroldâs assertion that Rebecca hadnât completely lost her memory, the subconscious of her dominant hand shouldnât have disappeared... No, by all accounts, even if that subconscious instinct were erased, it wouldnât make sense for it to be confused with the other hand.
The memory of the body and the impressions in the subconscious should be consistent.
When he visited Rebecca the day before, Aiden had felt her movements were extremely uncoordinated, even the simple task of pouring coffee and adding sugar seemed clumsy.
He had thought it was because she was nervous upon meeting him, but upon seeing the way Rebecca had just held a gun, he suddenly realized the source of that awkwardnessâit was her dominant hand.
Rebecca was a rare left-hander, yet she had reflexively picked up the gun with her unused right hand just now.
Harold had clearly noticed this detail much earlier, the sudden request for her to hold a gun was obviously intended for Aiden to see.
"Because she insisted on being transferred to your unit, and since you were visiting me that day, I thought it best for you to observe her yourself," Harold said.
"You suspect her?" Aiden inquired.
"Yes, the effect Presia has had on her seems to be more than just memory loss. The most elite witches and black magic practitioners can sometimes surpass our understanding with their craftâthatâs from my experience. Although thereâs no concrete evidence pointing to what exactly happened, itâs never wrong to be vigilant," Harold admitted frankly, "I have given her time off, while also assigning someone to watch over her."
"Youâre surveilling her?" Aiden was taken aback.
"Is there something wrong with that?" Harold countered.
"No," Aiden shook his head, "Itâs indeed necessary."
In that case, Harold must have been keeping track of Rebeccaâs whereabouts all along, including her sudden arrival at Rose Iron Prison the day before.
Although Aiden noticed something was off about Rebecca, for the time being, he had no intention of taking any action against her.
After all, the issue with Rebecca was not within his jurisdiction, it was a matter for the Heresy Tribunal.
Since Harold had already noticed Rebeccaâs issue and had taken measures, Aiden saw even less need to intervene. Professional matters should be left to the professionals.
However, it wasnât just Rebecca who seemed off in this affair, but also Presia.
The scene from the previous day, where Presia had adamantly requested him to hold her hand, was still vivid in Aidenâs memory.
Presiaâs behavior couldnât be entirely explained by memory loss.
While the matter with Rebecca could be left entirely to the Heresy Tribunal, if it involved prisoners kept in the jail, Aiden couldnât just look the other way.
While Harold was keeping an eye on Rebecca, Aiden decided to observe Presia.
Aiden pushed open the door to the infirmary, and the smell of antiseptics immediately assailed his nostrils.
"Commander!" Veronica, standing in the room, saw him and promptly saluted.
"Youâre on duty here," Aiden glanced around.
The prison doctor seemed to have gone for a meal, and there was only one patient in the entire infirmary, who was none other than Presia lying on the bed. Veronica, responsible for guarding the prisoners, was temporarily substituting for the absent doctor, and today was a full moon, just like the day before, she was on day shift.
"Are you here to see her?" Veronica gestured towards Presia, who was sitting on the hospital bed.
"Yes, whatâs in this bowl? Medicine?" Aidenâs gaze fell on Veronicaâs hand.
Veronica was holding a steaming bowl, containing a thick, pasty substance, and had been continuously stirring it before saluting Aiden.
"Itâs cornmeal paste with egg and milk added, for her to eat. She seems to be only able to eat liquid foods right now."
"She can already eat?"
"It seems thereâs no more active bleeding. The doctor gave her some water this morning and there wasnât a problem, so the cafeteria prepared this paste for her lunch," Veronica explained. "The doctor said if everything goes well, she can be moved back to her cell tomorrow."
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Sheâs recovering quite fast... Aiden thought.
For a patient with severe gastric bleeding to recover to the point of being able to eat within a single night, it probably wasnât just the effect of the hemostatic drugs. The transformation drug Meiruki injected might have altered Presiaâs gastrointestinal structure, and perhaps also enhanced her self-healing abilities.
"How are you feeling now?" Aiden walked over to Presiaâs bedside and spoke to her with an official tone.
"Much better..." Presia sat up on the bed, "Thank you..."
She looked down, her voice soft and seemingly very reserved, making it hard to imagine that before her memory loss, she was the Great Witch wanted at an S-class level.
"You havenât eaten all day; you should eat your meal now." Veronica brought the bowl closer. "Do you need help?"
"This..."
"If she can eat by herself, let her do it. Weâre not nannies for the prisoners," Aiden interjected, before Presia could make up her mind.
As he watched Veronica approach with the bowl, an inquisitive thought suddenly struck him.
"Iâm mainly worried she might spill it and burn herself," Veronica explained.
"Itâs okay, let her try." Aiden insisted.
"Alright then."
Veronica handed the bowl of paste to Presia, who took it clumsily with a spoon, blew on it, and put it in her mouth.
"Hey, youâre spilling it!" Veronica said helplessly from the side.
"Ah!" Presia then noticed some paste had dripped onto her clothes.
Veronica fetched a towel and handed it to her: "Clean it up quickly."
"Iâm sorry..." Presia put down the spoon, took the towel to wipe off the stain, and then picked up the soup spoon again.
After observing for a while, Aiden suddenly asked, "Presia, are you left-handed?"
"Huh?" Presia paused, then noticed she was holding the spoon with her left hand, "I did it unconsciously again..."
She immediately switched the spoon to her right hand and continued eating the paste, her movements much smoother than before.
Just as I suspected... Aiden confirmed his suspicion.
The conflict over the dominant hand was not only present in Rebecca but also appeared in Presia.