How to Tame My Beastly Husband - Chapter 243

How to Tame My Beastly Husband — Chapter 243. Less Guilty (2)

Raphael’s hands paused, filled with the fresh sheets. It seemed even his own words were capable of annoying him, and he finished making up a fresh bed without further comment. Lifting Annette as easily if she were a doll, he set her on the bed.

Turning, he reached for the bowl of medicine beside the bed. It had cooled while he was changing the sheets, and he offered a spoonful of Annette. She opened her mouth like a baby bird, and he gingerly spooned the medicine inside.

A bitter taste coated her tongue. Annette fought the instant nausea, not wanting to throw up on him again. A half hour had passed by the time the bowl was almost empty, and all the exhausted Annette wanted was to lie down.

“Don’t lie down yet.” Raphael stopped her with his hand. “Let it settle first, so it doesn’t come back up.”

Annette leaned back against the chilly headboard. Even if she couldn’t lie down, it felt better to prop her body against something.

Raphael obliged, sliding into bed beside her and wrapping his arm around her shoulders so that she rested against his chest. The heat from his strong body made her body tingle. It was a seductive warmth for the lonely young woman.

Slowly, her eyelids began to close. Just before she fell asleep, she felt his hand smoothing her hair back from her face. The gesture was clumsy, but affectionate.

Why is he being so kind?

Annette wanted to ask him, but she didn’t know how. She probably would never ask him until the day she died.

She was afraid of what he would say.

* * *

The woman on the bed was emaciated. Her beautiful blonde hair was rough, and her complexion was as pale as a corpse’s, with a distinctly sickly hue. Though she still dwelled in this world, she was too weak even to take her medicine, and mentally she had already given up, and gone to another realm.

Raphael stood near the bed, looking at her with an expressionless face. At last, he had become Master of Swords, but even he could barely hear her faint breathing. Her doctor was examining her carefully.

“There is nothing more that can be done,” he said finally. “I wish her a peaceful end–”

“Shut up!” Raphael shouted angrily. “Get out!”

The doctor hastily departed, leaving only two people in the room. Raphael sat down in the chair beside her bed. He was afraid even to touch her, as if she might break into pieces.

A faint whisper came from Annette’s cracked lips, a sound so soft, a normal person would never have caught it. It made Raphael bury his face in his hands.

“You want your family?” he repeated. “Those heartless people who wouldn’t come even now?”

A tear ran down Annette’s cheek, and it made Raphael want to break everything.

He wanted to shout at her that she was a fool, that her father had never come once, the whole time she was sick. But he was angriest at himself, because there was nothing he could do to save her.

He swallowed the hot, choking lump in his throat. He didn’t have time to grieve right now. The little time she had left was running out.

He even repeated the words, to make sure she heard him.

But it was a promise he could not keep.