The Male Lead’s Sickly Aide is My Type - Chapter 99.2
Chapter 99.2
Saying so, she pulled him to his feet and propelled him toward the bedroom. She straightened the covers and fluffed the pillows, urging him to lie down.
“I’m fine.”
“Fine? Just lie down!”
“I really am fine. It’s not even dark yet… Ow.”
“No more arguments. Lie down.”
He resisted, then, after a sharp tap on his back, finally complied. Carinne gently closed his eyes, but the moment she withdrew her hand, they snapped open again like a weighted doll bouncing upright.
“I can’t sleep.”
He was being incredibly stubborn, like a petulant child. Carinne retrieved a handkerchief from a drawer, folded it neatly, and placed it over his eyes. He reached up to remove it, though she gave him a warning look.
“There. Now, get some sleep.”
“But…”
“What is it now?”
“What am I supposed to do if I can’t sleep?”
He offered defensively, blaming the coffee he’d had that morning. So, Carinne grabbed a decorative book from the shelf.
“I’ll read to you. That should help you drift off. Don’t you think?”
Archen didn’t reply, so she took his silence as assent and opened the book.
“Once upon a time, in a grand castle, lived a beautiful princess. She had everything she could ever desire except for one thing: a companion. One day, a woodsman happened upon the castle…”
It was a predictable story.
A princess, blessed with every luxury, bored with her life, finds amusement and love with a charming woodsman—a cliché. As Carinne droned through the predictable narrative, she fought back a yawn. She was the one trying to induce sleep, yet she felt herself growing drowsy.
“His warm breath touched her lips, his hand moved to her thigh…”
Suddenly, the story took an unexpected turn, jolting Carinne awake. His hand on her thigh? What? She slammed the book shut, her cheeks burning. Thank goodness Archen’s eyes were covered; otherwise, her blush would have reached her ears.
Flustered, she stammered.
“This… I mean…”
An awkward silence fell. Archen was quiet for a moment, then tilted his head.
“Of all the books, you choose that one… Is there some sort of hidden meaning here?”
His tone was almost teasingly nonchalant.
“No, there isn’t!”
Carinne retorted, shoving the book back onto the shelf. Why was that book even in the house? Its innocent-looking cover felt like a betrayal.
She’d have to get rid of it.
“I’ll get another one. Ah, here we go. This one will be perfect. This is a very wholesome book.”
To avoid a repeat incident, Carinne flipped to a random page and checked its contents. Thankfully, it was a children’s storybook with charming illustrations.
“Once upon a time, in a tiny, impoverished cottage, lived a little girl named Paneto…”
A sweet-faced child peeked out from the window of a dilapidated house. Beside her, a grandmother lay in bed with a cloth on her forehead. Carinne began to read the following sentence when Archen’s smile vanished. He reached out and grasped her wrist, stopping her from turning the page.
“Perhaps a different book.”
“Why? It seems interesting.”
“….”
Even with the handkerchief covering his eyes, Carinne could sense his gaze. She closed the book. For some reason, he clearly didn’t want her to read it. She wondered why, longed to ask, but… he wouldn’t tell her, would he?
Carinne quickly gave up.
“Alright. Wait here.”
Since there were only two books on the shelf, she had to go to the study for more.
When she returned to the bedroom, the handkerchief lay neatly folded on the bedside table. Archen’s eyes were closed, his chest rising and falling with the rhythm of sleep. She waved a hand in front of his face, but he didn’t react.
‘He’s fallen asleep.’
Carinne set the books down and gazed at his sleeping face. His breath escaped his parted lips in soft puffs.
‘Oh, he’s beautiful.’
His flawless face was clear and bright, almost translucent. His skin, though rough, was still soft, and his sharp features seemed more pronounced now that he’d lost weight.
If only she had a camera, she would capture this moment and preserve it as a family heirloom. Future generations would admire his sleeping form, marveling, ‘Our great-grandfather was so handsome!’
Lost in these frivolous thoughts, Carinne lay down beside him. She intended to rest briefly while he slept, then return to work. Although she’d finished reviewing the documents, other tasks still awaited her. She was destined to work through the evening.
But that was a naive assumption.
The moment her head touched the pillow, and she wrapped her arms around Archen, a wave of exhaustion washed over her, her eyelids growing heavy.
Unconsciously, she drifted into a deep sleep.
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