Looking for a Husband to Confine Me - Chapter 42.2
Chapter 42.2
“It’s alright. The others will be here soon.” Skilled healers could erase any trace of injury, but that didn’t negate the initial pain. He was worried about a scar on my arm, yet completely indifferent to his own injuries.
Pazl’s attack had been avoidable. Damian could have ended it without getting hurt. But he’d allowed himself to be stabbed, buying me time to find the jewel. A heavy feeling settled in my chest. If I’d been faster, he wouldn’t have been injured.
Damian reached out with his uninjured hand and gently touched my hair. I slowly lifted my head. “I appreciate your concern, but don’t worry too much.”
“…I’m not heartless.”
“You don’t need to feel responsible, Amelia.”
“I don’t feel responsible. It’s just…” It bothered me that he’d been injured unnecessarily. But the feeling was difficult to articulate.
Why did this weigh so heavily on my heart? If Damian had faced Pazl alone, he could have handled the summoned beasts. He’d been injured because he wasn’t alone.
“…Would it have been better to let him summon the beasts?”
“I could still have subdued Pazl, but…” Damian replied to my murmured question. “I couldn’t guarantee everyone’s safety.”
I frowned. He usually teased and joked, pushing my buttons, so why was he suddenly being so considerate? I pouted in frustration. “Who was hurt?”
A sudden voice reminded me that we weren’t alone. Ricardo stood beside us, his voice laced with concern.
Bashar and Kelliard were also watching us, likely alarmed by my reaction to Damian’s injury. I lowered my head slightly. “Sir Div, Damian is hurt…”
“Ah, so it’s Ditronil who’s injured.” Ricardo’s voice instantly turned cold. He glanced indifferently at Damian. “It’s not a serious wound, My Lady. There’s no need to worry.”
“Shouldn’t we at least stop the bleeding?”
Ricardo stared at Damian’s hand, which I was still holding. One of his eyebrows twitched before he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket. “The blood is getting on you; allow me.”
“Your handkerchief is disgusting.”
“Look who’s talking.” Ricardo practically snatched Damian’s hand, his face grim as he staunchly worked to stop the bleeding. He then checked the wound on Damian’s shoulder and clicked his tongue.
Pulling a pristine white cloth from his pocket, he began to wrap the shoulder, staunching the flow of blood there as well. “You had bandages?”
“I always carry them, just in case.”
Of course he did. I should have called Ricardo right away. Instead, I just stood there, staring at Damian’s injury. Recalling my earlier behavior, a wave of embarrassment washed over me.
Had I overreacted to something so trivial? Damian and Ricardo were still bickering about the disgusting handkerchief, and I shook my head, trying to dispel my embarrassment. At least we caught Pazl. Although we had been here for less than half a day, it felt like an eternity.
***
It wasn’t long before the darkness that had enveloped the mansion dissipated. This meant the summoned beasts had either retreated or been destroyed. Kishan’s beasts, influenced by the dark magic, would no longer snarl and attack.
Unable to bear remaining in the ravaged bedroom any longer, I decided to venture outside. Ricardo, effortlessly carrying the unconscious Pazl over one shoulder, led the way down the stairs. The first floor of the annex was littered with Kishan’s beasts, some unconscious, others dead.
They must have entered the building at Pazl’s command. “I tried to save as many as I could,” Ricardo said, his voice strained. While he had prevented the beasts from attacking us, he seemed burdened by the guilt of taking their lives. Bashar approached Ricardo and spoke to him. “Don’t worry about it. I would have done the same. Besides, if anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I should have controlled them better from the start.”
Bashar Kishan wasn’t one for conversation, but even he seemed to feel responsible for what had happened. As he consoled Ricardo, Bashar’s gaze remained fixed on the fallen creatures, his expression somber.
Just then, the annex door opened. A moment of tension gripped me, but it was only Haroon and his companions.
I also saw other knights, presumably those who had arrived with Damian. What truly startled me, however, was the presence of someone who bore an uncanny resemblance to Ray Kewind among the knights.
I recognized him instantly, even though I had never met or seen a picture of ‘that person’ before. “My, my. You said you’d be fine on your own…” the man said, his voice echoing Ray’s.
If Ray Kewind were a man, this is exactly what he would look like. It was her brother, the Imperial Crown Prince, Aven Lefkindea, who had arrived with Haroon and the others. “You seem to be injured, Ditronil.” The Crown Prince addressed Damian Ditronil, who stood beside me.
