obsession chapter 29

“Of course not…” Luke chuckled dryly. Just as expected of someone brought in by the Lord, her way of thinking was anything but ordinary. “I came to check if you were still awake, but it seems the sleeping draught worked well.” 

“Well, yes.” 

“You slept without even changing your clothes?” 

“The, uh, the draught was a bit… strong. I’ll adjust the dosage tomorrow.” 

To maintain the tattered remnants of trust, Shariette decided to bury that minor lie. Thanks to Luke’s help, they managed to move the insomnia patient to his bedroom without incident. Luke struggled to suppress a surge of emotion as he watched the unbelievable sight of Noxian being carried without stirring, sleeping soundly. “Thank you so much, Lady Shariette.” He placed a hand over his heart and bowed his head respectfully, flustering Shariette. 

“It was nothing…” Instead of explaining the wellspring of gratitude, Luke deliberately asked lightly, “Can a subordinate leave work when their superior hasn’t?” 

“No?” 

“No. Absolutely not!” 

Joseph’s words came to mind: You’ve saved a life, no, several! If the boss doesn’t sleep, the underlings like us are worked to death. Shariette looked at Luke with sympathy, seeing a whirlwind of emotions in his eyes. 

“The Duchess must have said the same. Lady Shariette, you’re our savior. Truly.” “Yes, well…”

“If, by any chance, his Lordship wakes up too early, please, please make sure he falls asleep again.” 

“You make it sound like I should ensure he never wakes up.” 

“I’m counting on you.” Clasping both of her hands in his and expressing his gratitude repeatedly, Luke left the room. Just what kind of life has this man been living? Shariette gazed at the man sleeping peacefully, as if he had nothing to do with the infamous rumors surrounding him. 

With his mouth closed like this, he looked every bit the nobleman of Rubencia he was known as before the Argen downfall. But nobleman or demon, right now he was simply her patient, under her care. Shariette checked Noxian’s breathing, pulse, and temperature, recording them on the chart. Pulling a chair closer, she sat down and stifled a yawn. It was going to be a long night.

***

The night, punctuated by the occasional scratching of her pen, eventually gave way to the hazy boundary between dawn and morning. Noxian Rubelot slowly opened his eyes, a strange sensation washing over him. The faint light of dawn filtered coolly through the window. It was a stark contrast to his usual routine of lying with his eyes closed. The peaceful silence that surrounded him was different from the stillness he remembered; a different kind of peace, like cool air, permeated the room. His first thought was of the infuriating woman who had drugged him. 

If I don’t put a stop to this habit of hers, she’ll be knocking me unconscious every chance she gets. However, the next moment, as he sat up, he felt a peculiar sense of liberation. It felt as if he had only closed his eyes for a moment, yet he had rested deeply in a comforting darkness. 

Realizing how easy it was to breathe, he understood that until now, breathing had been like struggling underwater. The crisp morning air seemed to wash over his mind, leaving it startlingly clear. His nerves, previously taut like finely tuned strings, vibrating sharply at the slightest touch, now felt relaxed. The heavy weight that had constantly pressed down on him had vanished. The lightness, the tranquility, was unfamiliar. Perhaps even frighteningly so. 

Noxian savored each sensation. Then, he noticed the woman curled up in the chair beside his bed. “…Shariette.” 

She was asleep, her head resting on her drawn-up knees. Her hair, catching the faint light of dawn, seemed to glow with an ethereal luminescence. A pen was precariously balanced in her hand. A fallen notebook lay open on the floor. He picked it up. Notes detailing his condition, recorded hourly, caught his eye, along with unfamiliar medicinal ingredients and calculations.