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Chapter 115 Who’s Weak?
Finished
Before the doctor could finish his sentence, Freya slapped him twice, her anger making her hands tremble. with fury.
She was venting all her frustration from Charmaine onto him.
“How could you use those dangerous injections on Emyr?” she hissed, her voice laced with venom. “If anyone finds out there are addictive substances in them, you’ll be the one who regrets it!”
The doctor froze, his body trembling with fear as he fell to his knees.
Freya had forced them to develop the drugs for Emyr’s condition. At the time, they had no other options. No matter how skilled they were, nothing seemed to help Emyr’s suffering.
But Freya had insisted they add more narcotics to the painkillers, and though they hesitated, they ultimately followed her orders.
To their surprise, it worked–at least for a little while–easing Emyr’s pain temporarily.
However, they could never admit the truth. Freya had made sure to keep them quiet, offering lavish rewards in exchange for their silence.
And in the months that followed, their professional reputations had skyrocketed thanks to Emyr.
If their involvement came to light, they would lose everything: their careers, their credibility, and their future in the field.
Freya crossed her arms, glaring at them with disdain. “You’re completely useless. Worse than servants!”
The doctor, feeling unjustly accused, had a sudden realization. “It’s Master Field!” he exclaimed.
“What Master Field?” Freya demanded.
The doctor’s eyes shone with excitement as he explained, “When I was younger, I attended a lecture by Master Basil Field. The way that maid handles the needles … it’s almost exactly the same as his technique!”
Freya scoffed. “You’re telling me a maid can compare to Master Field? You’re insane.”
“No, I swear! It’s exactly the same!” The doctor insisted, his voice filled with conviction. “I only attended one lecture by him, but I’ll never forget the technique. And as for Emyr’s leg condition, no one else could fix it— not even the best doctors. If anyone could help, it’s Master Field, but he’s been traveling the world ever since he retired. Finding him would be nearly impossible…”
Freya’s expression shifted slightly. “Are you saying Master Field could cure Emyr?”
The doctor nodded, though his voice wavered. “There’s a 70 to 80 percent chance, but … Master Field disappeared after his retirement. It’s not just that he’s hard to find–he seems to have vanished completely.”
Freya clenched her jaw, her eyes narrowing with determination. “No. Emyr’s legs will get better. You said it’s Master Field, right? I’ll find him, no matter what it takes!”
In the master bedroom, Emyr was starting to stabilize. His body, which had been wracked with pain, was
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14:27 Fri, 21 Feb
Chapter 115 Who’s Weak?
Tad looked at Charmaine with gratitude in his eyes. “Thank you, Ms. Nelson.”
Finished
“It was nothing. I made a promise to him,” Charmaine replied softly, “You should get some rest, Tad. It’s getting late.”
Tad glanced at Emyr, still concerned. “But Mr. Emyr …”
“I’ll stay with him,” Charmaine reassured him. “It’s fine.”
After a moment’s hesitation, Tad nodded, though worry still lingered in his gaze. “I’ll leave it to you, Ms. Nelson.”
He stole one last look at Emyr before quietly exiting the room, closing the door behind him.
Charmaine let out a sigh of relief, instinctively wiping her face. It wasn’t until she noticed her hand was damp with sweat that she realized how tense she had been.
She had been so focused on Emyr that she hadn’t noticed her own cold perspiration.
Glancing back at Emyr, she saw he was unlikely to wake up anytime soon. She quietly rose and made her way to the bathroom.
“This guy doesn’t even have an extra towel,” she muttered under her breath.
She searched through the drawers but couldn’t find a clean towel.
After some hesitation, she grabbed the dark blue one hanging nearby. Her skin felt sticky from the sweat, so she wiped herself off, tossing the towel aside.
Tomorrow, I’ll ask Alfred to get a fresh one for Emyr.
As she wiped her chest with a clean towel, she heard a sound from the other room.
“Charmaine…”
To her surprise, Emyr had propped himself up on his arms, sitting up on his own.
Charmaine rushed out of the bathroom, panic rising in her throat as she saw him struggling to stay upright, on the verge of collapsing.
“Don’t move!” she cried, rushing to support his back. “You’re too weak right now. Why are you trying to sit up?”
Emyr narrowed his eyes, a dangerous glint in them. “Who’s weak?”
“Um… I am. Happy now?” Charmaine muttered, exasperated. Of all the times to argue about this.
Emyr glanced at the towel she was holding, snatching it from her hands and pressing it to his face.
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