obsession chapter 17

A cool night breeze stirred. Shariette looked up at the dim sky, still sprinkled with stars, then up at the face of the man who had rescued her. He’s definitely angry. Why is he holding back? Did he find me too insignificant to bother with? This man was certainly built differently than Blanche, the pitiful noblewoman, or Matthias, the physician and scholar. Ugh. She groaned softly. 

So, what does he want in return? He was as enigmatic as the ambiguous hour, hovering between night and dawn. She’d kill him once she figured out his true identity, but for now, he was the man who had saved her life. Such a strange man. Noxian, sensing her gaze, looked down at her. Shariette clutched the vine-decorated box in her arms. This time, I have to say it. Mustering her voice, she whispered, “Thank you… for saving me.” 

She’d wanted to say those words two years ago as well, if only she hadn’t been Arjen. To the most destructive savior, the one who had burned down that vast swamp. “You’re capable of such… ordinary pleasantries?” 

Damn it, just because I call him a crow doesn’t mean he can treat me like a birdbrain! Shariette narrowed her eyes. 

“I can take it back if you don’t like it.” 

“I’ll accept your gratitude.” Noxian’s eyes crinkled with amusement. 

“I suppose you didn’t want to die after all?” 

“Am I crazy?” Noxian readily savored the warmth and weight of the survivor in his arms. Yes, what did it matter? This time, he hadn’t lost her. And he wouldn’t lose her again. 

“By the way, you should know, expressions of gratitude aren’t usually given empty-handed.” The apothecary, clearly not understanding his jest, pondered for a moment before asking, “What’s your favorite food?” 

“Are you offering to cook for me?” 

Hmph, something more substantial than that. Shariette lifted her chin confidently. “I’ll make your medicine taste like whatever you want. Strawberry, black tea, chocolate, tomato stew, onion soup…” 

She began listing examples of her custom-flavored concoctions. Noxian turned his head, trying to suppress his laughter, but failed. A chuckle escaped him, and Shariette swung her foot in annoyance. 

“What’s so funny?” 

“Nothing. My apothecary is quite skilled. I’ll take bittersweet chocolate, please.” 

He’s enjoying this, isn’t he? One more laugh and she would definitely kick him with her bloodied foot, so Noxian swallowed down the renewed surge of amusement.

“Insane…” 

“Are we all collectively hallucinating?” The knights who had apprehended the arson suspect and the servants who had arrived to retrieve their physician after two long years rubbed their eyes. Emerging from the ruined apothecary, Noxian Rubelot, more demonic than any demon, carried a clothed woman in his arms. And they were even engaging in normal conversation! 

“Oh my god, Red Dragon, have mercy on us…” 

“We’re definitely hallucinating, damn it. It must have been something in the dinner we ate earlier.” From all sides came fervent pronouncements of visual distortions and cognitive dissonance. 

Well, the white crow has become a grey crow. Meanwhile, Josef, surprisingly unfazed after the past few days, grumbled to himself. Having spent a few days observing the situation, he felt a pang of sympathy for the soot-covered crow-like figure. Those who gradually regained their composure felt similarly. 

The victim rescued from the disaster was a pitiful sight, yet her appearance drew the eye. Though burned and singed in places, her naturally pale, translucent skin and mystical blue-green eyes remained striking. Her slender frame was mostly hidden in Noxian’s embrace, making her bloodied and tattered feet all the more noticeable. My sleeping draught is burning… Burning brightly. Could anything be more dangerous than this?