Chapter 32
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Deborah had a unique way of applying medicine. It still hurt, of course–but not as much as when treated by other physicians. Maybe it was the way her fingers moved–long, nimble, and incredibly precise.
After applying the ointment to each wound, she would gently massage the pressure points around it in slow, soothing circles.
Damian didn’t know what good that kind of massage was supposed to do, but… it did feel better.
His dark, starry eyes gradually lost their sharp edge, softening under a thin veil of fatigue. The pain hadn’t gone away–those were deep lash wounds, after all. But pain was something he was used to.
He’d endured it for most of the night. But now, with her by his side, her touch light and steady, the tension in his body began to ease. He felt himself growing tired. Drained. Sleep tugged at him.
“Your Highness,” Deborah murmured softly.
“What?” he replied vaguely, eyes already closed.
“Who did this to you?”
If you don’t want to die, don’t ask,” he said coldly.
Deborah shot him a sideways glance. She thought, ‘Fine, don’t tell me. What’s with all the threats?‘
But deep down, she already had a pretty good idea. ‘In the entire manor, who else has the authority–and audacity–to do this, if not Emily?‘
And yet… he was one of the strongest contenders for the crown prince. The future king, possibly.
Deborah thought, ‘How could she dare? Most mothers treat their sons like delicate treasures, pampering them endlessly. What gives her the courage to raise a whip to his back?‘
“Your Highness…” she called again, more quietly this time.
But he didn’t answer. Whether he’d fallen asleep or simply couldn’t be bothered, she couldn’t tell.
“Was that Simon I saw tonight?” she asked quietly. “It was him, wasn’t it? He’s been in the residence this whole time, hasn’t he?”
Damian said nothing, but his eyes
opened slowly. There was a shadow in them–dark and unreadable.
Deborah’s chest tightened. She knew she was right. The figure she’d seen in Skyrift Hall, speaking with Emily–it had been Simon. That place was even named for the two of them.
“Then why won’t he see me?” she asked, voice cracking. “Did I do something wrong?”
The moment the words left her mouth, she felt the change in him. His entire body stiffened.
He pushed her hand away, pulled his robe closed, and sat up straight.
“Your Highness…” Deborah rose
well, a knot forming in her stomach. She instinctively stepped back.
“What, are you afraid of me now?” His tone was cold, his gaze even colder.
“No. Of course not…” she mumbled, though truthfully, when he looked at her like that, she was a little afraid. She lowered her head, avoiding his
eyes.
His face was like carved ice. “So everything you just did–for me–was just a ploy to get information about Simon?”
Deborah bit her lip. He’d misunderstood. She hadn’t tended his wounds because of Simon. But explaining that now felt… pointless.
“I haven’t seen my husband since our wedding night,” she said quietly. “I just want to know where he is. Is that really so wrong?”
“You’re that desperate to see him?” Damian let out a sharp, humorless laugh.
“How well do you even know him? Do you have any idea what kind of man he really is?”
He cut her off. “Let me ask you again–on your wedding night, are you sure it was Simon who shared your
1/2
bed?”
2/2
9:23 AM
Chapter 32
.
Deborah stumbled back, eyes
wide in disbelief. Her legs nearly gave out.
she looked up, she met Damian’s
gaze–cold, sharp, unwavering. Her
heart dropped.
“I’m just What’s
a girl whose husband won’t even see her,” she the point? Is this fun for you?”
said, voice trembling. “All I want
is to
find
him. Why
do you
keep scaring
me?
Mocking me?
Her
voice broke then,
raw and
wounded. “I married Simon–not you. Please, Your Highness…
show me
some
respect.”
田
