The Male Lead’s Sickly Aide is My Type - Chapter 103.1
Chapter 103.1
“That resolve is admirable.”
Carinne smiled brightly.
Archen started to rise, but she caught his arm. She held it close, nuzzling her head against his shoulder.
“What’s the rush? Stay a little longer.”
She reached for his other hand and brought it to her head, a silent request for a caress. He couldn’t help but smile, earning a playful glare from Carinne.
She pouted, then murmured.
“Come on.”
Archen readily obeyed. Remembering her preference for bare hands, he removed his glove and gently stroked her hair.
Carinne, still holding his arm, leaned into him until she was lying against his chest.
The day slowly drew to a close.
The setting sun, sinking towards the west, painted the ripples of the lake with hues of yellow and orange, like ink spreading through water. It was a peaceful scene, but Archen’s mind was a whirlwind of turmoil.
The sorrow he knew Carinne would eventually feel, the guilt of his initial dishonesty, churned within him.
A healthy mind in a healthy body, as the saying goes. Conversely, his anxious mind was taking its toll on his physical form. A sharp pain pierced his chest, forcing him to hold his breath. He struggled to maintain his composure, but the pain intensified.
A gasp escaped his lips.
Carinne, startled, sat up.
“Are you alright? Does something hurt?”
He couldn’t suppress a groan, clutching his chest and hunching forward.
His hand instinctively reached inside his coat pocket, fumbling for the small vial he kept there. He managed to unscrew the cap with one hand, but his trembling fingers lost their grip, and the vial slipped and fell. Carinne picked it up.
“Is this medicine?”
Through his blurred vision, he saw her worried face. She held the vial up to him.
“How…how much do you need?”
He suddenly remembered—the medicine wouldn’t work.
He’d meant to leave the vial behind but had forgotten. Even if he took it, the pain wouldn’t subside. Archen shook his head. Carinne set the vial down and took his other hand in hers. To his surprise, the pain began to recede.
As his mind cleared, he released his grip on his chest.
This had happened before. The pain would strike, he’d reach for the medicine, and then it would simply vanish. The illness was unpredictable. He had no choice but to accept it.
Taking slow, deep breaths until the discomfort completely faded, Archen finally spoke.
“I’m alright now.”
Carinne’s expression was still etched with worry. He couldn’t think of an excuse. Now that she’d seen the vial, the truth was inevitable. He knew he had to tell her. Sometimes, a vague, dreaded future arrives unexpectedly, forcing a confrontation with reality.
“Carinne.”
He began, his voice low. Her anxious, emerald eyes met his.
“What is it?”
“I… I’m not the man you think I am.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m selfish, and I haven’t been honest with you.”
Unable to meet her gaze, Archen looked away. A melancholic shadow fell over his features.
“What I told you about my illness… it wasn’t the whole truth. The pain… it’s not just when I use magic. It comes and goes, tormenting me constantly. Sleep doesn’t help. Neither does eating well.”
“….”
He forced the words out, each syllable a struggle.
“It’s true that using magic shortens my life, but even now, even as we sit here, my magic is draining away.”
“….”
He continued, the confession wrenched from the depths of his being.
“I… I don’t have much time left. A year and a half, at most.”
Carinne was silent, clearly stunned.
Archen couldn’t begin to imagine what she must be feeling. He closed his eyes. Meeting her gaze now felt presumptuous, like a condemned man facing his judge. He waited for her response, the silence heavy with anticipation.
Why wasn’t she saying anything? Was she crying?
He had no idea what to say, how to react, if she were. If he were honest, he’d rather throw himself into the lake than see her cry because of him. Perhaps he shouldn’t have told her. He should have lied, said he had an upset stomach, and blamed it on the coffee he’d had that morning.
Even if she’d teased him for being predictable, even if she’d doubted him, it would have been better than this…
“Thank you for telling me.”
Archen opened his eyes.
To his astonishment, Carinne’s expression wasn’t dark. Instead, she wore a faint smile, almost as if a weight had been lifted.
“I already knew.”
“….”
Archen couldn’t believe his ears.
“What… what did you say?”
He stammered, needing to hear it again.
This time, it was Carinne who couldn’t meet his gaze. He wouldn’t know, but she had long suspected his condition. When considering predictable yet unavoidable deaths, a terminal illness was the first thing that came to mind.
However, she’d thought it unlikely for a relatively minor character like him to have such a tragic backstory.
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