obsession chapter 9

Shariette began her livelihood with her only marketable skill. Denied a license to open a clinic or apothecary due to lacking formal qualifications, she’d settled on an herbalist shop as a second-best option. The unofficial side hustle—treating ailments—began when a joint pain remedy she gifted her landlord gained notoriety. Supply met demand, and for a while, this gray area was willingly overlooked. Until now! Shariette, regaining her composure, immediately pointed out the flaw in his logic. “This isn’t Lubenshire!”

“Ah, right. I can’t exercise authority in another territory. A valid point.” Noxian nodded, pulling a land deed from within his robes and waving it. His relaxed demeanor suggested he’d anticipated her objection. “Eight hours ago, Willow Hill became part of Rubelot. I paid handsomely, so Viscount Kasha, the original owner, should be satisfied.”

Shariette’s eyes widened in disbelief. What? What is this…?

“If you’re hoping to rely on the lack of physical evidence—” Noxian drawled, his voice laced with amusement. Shariette no longer wanted to hear another word from him. “Perhaps you’d prefer a charge of assaulting the heir to the lord, right here on his land? That would start with a prison sentence.”

…Operation Number Four seemed doomed from the start. That damned devil! I should have left him unconscious! Resigned to her fate, Shariette clasped her hands and adopted a surprisingly polite tone. “It wasn’t an attack. It was self-defense.”

So she does know how to be respectful. Noxian chuckled, amused by her swift change in demeanor. “Drugging an unsuspecting person into unconsciousness isn’t generally considered self-defense.”

“He was acting suspicious! It was a reflex.”

“My, that makes it sound like you’ve attacked quite a few people.”

Shariette averted her gaze, defeated. A long silence followed, filled with the frantic whirring of thoughts within her small, fair head. Noxian tapped his fingers on the table. “I’d like you to make your choice now.”

Annoyed by his insistence after presenting her with a no-win scenario, Shariette retorted sullenly, “This is blackmail.” Her tone had reverted to its previous sharpness.

This suits her better. Noxian absently observed her pouting lips and the slight puff of her cheeks. “Think of it as me helping you make an easier choice.”

Cornered, Shariette confessed, “What I sprayed you with wasn’t just a sleeping draught. It was an anesthetic. Anyone, not just me, would have—”

“You think I haven’t encountered anesthetics before? I could list them by type.”

Fail. It’s more unusual that he has encountered them! Shariette thought. In truth, her concoctions contained no extraordinary ingredients. She was more baffled as to why hers was the only one that worked. Desperately seeking an escape route, she said, “I could just regularly supply you with the antidote. I have other clients like that.”

“Imagine the rumors—the Madman of Rubelot making regular transactions. It wouldn’t take a month for word to spread. That wouldn’t be good for you. I have a lot of enemies, I’m afraid.”

Are you really afraid? Shariette gave him an incredulous look.

Noxian, looking not at all sorry, smiled faintly. “Besides, leaving the only person capable of incapacitating me at arm’s length? Who knows whose hands your concoctions might end up in?”

“….” Another fail! The ironclad logic of his pre-prepared arguments was driving her mad. “If you’re so cautious, why should I trust you? I don’t know if what you’ll be giving me is a sleeping draught or poison!”

At her implication that she might poison him, Noxian chuckled softly. “Somehow, I doubt you would. It’s curious that y