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Chapter 19
Arnoux had holed himself up in Archduke Delise's room for four agonizing hours, his mind swirling with panic and frustration. Every minute stretched out like an eternity, his thoughts racing as he considered the possibility of someone discovering him. The idea of the maids catching him sneaking out of the archduke's room was mortifying—he could already hear the rumors spreading through the manor, tarnishing both his and the archduke's reputations. Even though his conscience was clear, he knew how scandalous it might look.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the hallway outside the room fell silent. The servants were likely at lunch, providing Arnoux the perfect window of escape. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and cracked open the door. Seeing no one, he bolted down the hallway, heading left in a mad rush to avoid any prying eyes. His heart pounded in his chest as he fled, his footsteps echoing faintly on the polished floor.
When he reached a secluded corner, he leaned against the wall, burying his face in his hands, groaning in disbelief. "What the hell am I doing?" he muttered to himself, his voice thick with exasperation. "It wasn't even my fault that happened! Why am I acting like some guilty suspect?"
"Ugh, whatever!" Arnoux threw his hands in the air in frustration, shaking off the anxiety, and continued to walk briskly back to his room.
The hallways were mercifully empty, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him. Once inside the safety of his quarters, he headed straight for the bathroom. When he saw his reflection in the mirror, he almost couldn't believe what he was looking at.
His normally well-kept hair was disheveled beyond recognition, his lips red and slightly swollen, and his wrists bore faint but unmistakable red marks. "What...?" His voice faltered as he reached up to gingerly touch his lips. His expression shifted between disbelief and something close to tears. "That was my first kiss..." he whispered, his voice breaking slightly.
Determined to fix the situation before Athian—or anyone else—saw him like this, Arnoux scrambled for his magic pouch. "I have to heal this," he muttered, rummaging through the small, enchanted bag. "If Athian finds out, I'm dead. My pride would never survive it!"
After a moment of frantic searching, he finally found a small stash of healing potions. He held up one bottle to the light. The liquid inside glowed with an ethereal neon green hue, thick and slightly slimy, but undeniably potent.
"Only three left?" Arnoux frowned, but quickly shook it off. "Whatever. Judging by the glow, this one's definitely high quality."
He held the potion bottle up, staring at it with a mix of regret and reluctance. "I can't believe I'm using such a rare, high-quality potion to heal... hickeys and bed marks."
With a deep breath, Arnoux swallowed the last of the healing potion, feeling the familiar warmth of magic course through his veins as his body glowed a faint green. His eyes flicked back to the mirror, where his swollen lips and the red marks on his wrists stared mockingly at him. He frowned, pressing his fingers against his lips.
"It's still stinging... Isn't it supposed to be a healing potion?" His voice carried an edge of frustration. "These wounds should be gone by now," he muttered, his brow furrowing as he snatched up another bottle and downed it. Yet, when he looked again, nothing had changed.
By the time he drank the last of the potions in a fit of irritation, Arnoux had nearly convinced himself that this must be some cruel joke. Even as his skin briefly shimmered with magic, his lips remained swollen, and the marks on his wrists refused to fade.
YOU ARE READING
ARNOUX | The Green Eyed Swordsman (Continent Mythosia Series 2)
Fantasía[ AN ORIGINAL BL NOVEL FROM RUNNOX ] Seyeong was not accepted by society, so he understood harsh realities from a young age. However, his life began to change in college when he met Yeunho, someone who shared his experiences. They became best friend...
