Chapter 23
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“Does it hurt?” He suddenly reached over and gently pressed her side.
Seraphine’s face flushed, and the scene from the previous night flashed through her mind.
She shook her head, but Alistair had already gotten up, bringing a jar of ointment. He opened the blanket without a word.
“Alistair!” She quickly pressed down on the edge of her clothes.
“What did you call me?”
He narrowed his eyes dangerously, but his hand remained gentle, circling the bruise on her waist with ointment–soaked fingertips.
“Who was the one crying out for her husband last night?”
The ointment’s coolness eased the soreness.
Seraphine bit her lip and said nothing, her ears burning with embarrassment. Alistair chuckled softly, suddenly lifting her up in his arms.
“Ah!” Seraphine instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”
“Bath.”
The warm spring water misted around them as Alistair gently removed her hairpin, and her long, black hair cascaded down like a waterfall.
He took a wooden comb and slowly combed through her hair, from root to tip, his movements delicate as though handling a priceless treasure.
“I’ve heard that couples in the common folk enjoy painting their eyebrows.” Seraphine gazed at his focused profile in the mirror. “Does Lord enjoy this too?”
Alistair set the comb aside and retrieved a dark eyeliner from his sleeve.
“Shall we try?”
He gently turned her face toward the light, the brush tip lightly tracing her brows.
Seraphine held her breath, feeling the warmth of his fingers and the slight tremor in his touch.
“It’s done.” After a while, Alistair set the pencil down, but frowned. “It seems a little off.”
Seraphine leaned closer to the mirror. Her brows were like distant mountains shaded in green–there was no sign of them being crooked. Just as she was about to speak, they were interrupted by a disciple outside the door:
“Lord, remnants of the Septem Spire have been spotted in the south region!”
Chapter 24
Alistair’s gaze turned ice cold, and all the warmth from before vanished.
“Understood.”
Seraphine held his hand as he reached for his sword. “I’ll go.”
“No.” Alistair’s rejection was firm. “You’re still recovering.”
“I am the young master of the Shadow Court, not a fragile porcelain doll.”
Seraphine snatched the sword from his hand and pecked his lips. “Honey, be good and wait for me to return.”
She turned to leave, but he pulled her back with force.
Alistair placed a small pouch into her hands. “Take this with you.”
Seraphine opened it, only to find three blood–red pills, releasing a faint scent of still water,
“You used your own blood?” She quickly looked up at him.
Alistair didn’t answer, only tied her cloak for her.
“Return by noon. I’ve had the kitchen prepare your favorite perch.”
Seraphine returned home as the evening sun set.
She quietly scaled the courtyard wall, planning to surprise Alistair, but heard a muffled cough from the study.
Opening the door, Alistair was sitting at the desk, writing. Upon hearing the noise, he immediately hid the blood–stained handkerchief in his sleeve.
Chapter 23
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Seraphine hurried over and grabbed his wrist.
“The backlash has worsened.” Her voice was tight as she felt his pulse.
Alistair pulled his hand away and pulled her into his lap. “It’s just a minor injury.”
He gently brushed aside the hair from her forehead. “You look pale.”
Seraphine forced a smile.
“I got caught in the rain.”
Before she could finish her sentence, a sharp pain suddenly shot up her spine.
She shuddered, and cold sweat soaked her undergarments.
The old wound from The Judas Cradle flared up, as if thousands of needles were twisting in her bones.
Alistair’s face paled as he quickly tore open her collar.
The scar, once healed, now turned a strange shade of purple, and the veins surrounding it were swollen.
“Fool!” he shouted, his voice laced with worry, yet his hands were as gentle as ever as he cradled her in his arms. “Why didn’t you send word if you were
hurt?”
Seraphine curled into his embrace, unable to speak from the pain.
In a daze, she felt herself being placed into a warm medicinal bath, and Alistair’s hand rested against her back, his inner strength flowing into her veins.
“Hold on.”
Seraphine bit her lip, the taste of blood filling her mouth.
Suddenly, a pair of warm hands cupped her face, and Alistair’s lips gently kissed the blood from her lips.
“Don’t bite yourself,” he murmured against her forehead. “Bite me.”
Pain surged in waves, and Seraphine drifted in and out of consciousness in the medicinal bath.
Each time she opened her eyes, she saw Alistair by her side, dark circles under his eyes.
“What day is it?” she asked, her voice hoarse.
Alistair helped her sit up and fed her half a cup of warm water.
“Third day.” He gently stroked her gaunt cheek. “Are you hungry? The kitchen has prepared milk for you.”
“I’m not hungry. I just want to sleep.”
The sound of rain outside gradually faded, and Seraphine drifted off to sleep in his arms.
In a daze, she felt someone gently kiss her brow and heard a soft sigh.
“What am I going to do with you…”
Chapter 23
