obsession chapter 28

“Do you think I haven’t met my fair share of fools who make excuses to avoid their medicine?”

“Fools…” 

Meeting her distrustful gaze, he sighed, rubbing his forehead. “It’s a matter of time. I feel like I’d be losing out.” 

“Losing out?” 

“Having more time than others is quite the advantage.” For the past two years, while others lived their days as twelve or so hours, Nox Rubelot had squeezed twenty-some hours out of each. It was a madness that would have put an ordinary person in a coffin, sleeping eternally. But he was a Rubelot, carrying the strongest bloodline. Though he was often tired, with headaches and frequent nausea, he could endure. And so, now that he held the key to sleep he had so desperately sought, he felt paradoxically hesitant. 

Hesitant to fall into that distant, comfortable, and utterly defenseless state he had briefly experienced. Especially after interrogating the arsonist brought from Willowhill. “Why did we go through all the trouble of getting the Rictura horn?! If it weren’t for you, the Marquisate wouldn’t be ruined…!” 

A sob story unworthy of sympathy. Who told him to get involved in smuggling and drugs? The roots of the Argen Marquisate ran deeper and dirtier than he’d imagined. Dirty enough to sprout such filth. “Do you think I’m the only one? You’ll end up the same way! You’ll lose everything too!” 

He didn’t need to be told. He’d already dealt with countless pathetic attempts on his life. “Damn Argens, causing trouble even in death. It’s bad enough cleaning up their mess, but now I have to deal with their misplaced rage on unrelated parties.” Nox twirled his pen, then addressed his irate physician. 

“Thanks to you, I can now sleep whenever I want. I plan to use it efficiently, only when absolutely necessary. Thank you.” 

Efficiently. Appalled by his logic, Shariette asked incredulously, “Are you insane?” “Perfectly sane. As always.” 

“The fact that you don’t realize it proves you’re insane.” 

“Nothing new. I hear that often.” Nox replied, unfazed. Exasperated, Shariette snatched the pen from his hand. He doesn’t even have my regenerative abilities! Clearly, sleep deprivation had driven him 250 degrees around the bend! That explained all the strange talk – it was the lack of sleep! Shariette pointed the stolen pen at him. 

“You don’t have more time than others, you’re borrowing against your lifespan.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll take it when I really need it. I wouldn’t let the apothecary’s hard work go to waste.” 

“It’s already going to waste.” 

Clearly not understanding a word she said, the man stood up. He gently took her by the shoulders and guided her towards the door. As she was being steered out, Shariette suddenly felt a surge of indignation. Why did he go to such lengths to bring me here if he’s going to act like this Objectively, both their arguments were self-contradictory, spitting in the face of their own actions. But objectivity is often lost on those involved. Feeling the need to correct her patient’s attitude, Shariette abruptly spun around, pulling out a spray bottle resembling a perfume vial. 

“Wait…!” Nox’s mind flashed back to the merciless spray attack, a near reflex now, but he was too late. Tsss! 

“Shariette, you, that anesthetic again—!” 

“It’s not anesthetic. It’s the concentrated form of the sleeping draught I gave you.” Which made it several times stronger. 

“That’s the same thing! Are you playing games?” He swayed, fighting the drowsiness. A futile effort. 

“You should have just taken the medicine I gave you. What do you take an apothecary’s prescription for?” 

“Who said you could just—!” 

“I’m your physician, responsible for your health. You will follow my prescriptions and instructions.” 

“Un…reasonable…damn…” His indignant glare flickered before his consciousness faded, and he collapsed. 

Danger! Orbital fracture! Concussion! Shariette caught his weight, practically embracing him, and stumbled back, barely managing to stay upright. “Whew, I almost put him to sleep permanently.” 

As she breathed a sigh of relief, a familiar voice spoke from behind her. “My Lord, why are you still… Lady Shariette? What are you doing?” 

With only one white-haired individual in the mansion, Luke recognized her instantly. A man and a woman alone late at night, practically embracing – a scene ripe for misunderstanding. 

“…!” Shariette wanted to raise her hands in a gesture of innocence, but she couldn’t let go of Nox. Before Luke could speak, she blurted out, “It’s not an assassination!”