Chapter 50
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Chapter 50
He spoke while gazing at the ceiling, not at me.
The way he let out those brief, stifled sounds seemed terribly uncomfortable for him.
Why was he being so bashful?
I activated my quick intuition.
"Oh! Do you need help changing clothes?"
"...What?"
For a moment, I heard a sound like wind bursting through—a sharp intake of breath.
Dale's eyes widened dramatically.
The way he stared at me, as if he might tumble backward at any moment, held something in it—contempt? No, surely not?
'He's looking at me like I'm insane.'
Wait, wasn't that what I meant?
"No, no, that's not—I didn't mean—Dale! I wasn't saying I desperately wanted to change your clothes! I just thought maybe you needed help? So wouldn't it make sense for me to assist you? That's the feeling I was going for! A question! An inquiry! You understand, don't you?"
"...."
Still, Dale's shocked expression didn't change. He looked at me as if I were some sort of pervert.
Maybe I should have just kept my mouth shut and said nothing.
I politely retrieved fresh clothes for him and opened the door.
"Change at your leisure."
* * *
Dale, having changed into fresh clothes, sat quietly waiting for me.
His face was filled with wariness toward me.
...Did I really look like a pervert?
As I approached with an awkward smile, Dale's expression grew even more rigid.
...Had I been downgraded to genuine pervert status?
"Well, you managed to change on your own—impressive—"
"...."
Dale watched me quietly.
I was grateful he wasn't glaring at me.
When I pulled my lips into a smile, Dale retreated further and shifted slightly to the opposite side.
He seemed uncomfortable with my presence.
"I thought you might have trouble eating, so I made a simple pear juice. I'll leave it here, so eat whenever you're comfortable."
"...."
Dale, looking more dazed than usual due to the fever, stared at the bowl.
The wind was blowing hard outside, so I drew the curtains and closed the door tightly. This House was built sturdy with no drafts, and it felt cozy.
"You should feel better by tomorrow. Don't go to work—rest here tomorrow too. Understood?"
"...Yes."
I was worried by the weakness in Dale's voice.
I wished he would leave soon.
I looked at Dale, who sat quietly in his pajamas.
I had often seen Dale wear neat pajamas neatly arranged, but this was the first time I'd seen his cheeks flushed and his broad shoulders hunched.
Dale gazed at me silently.
"If you need anything, ring this bell. I'll take care of everything."
Dale nodded with a dazed expression.
Finally, I unwrapped the shoulder bandage, disinfected it, and took his temperature.
"It's dropped significantly. Dale, eat this and get some rest. I'll be in the Office."
"...."
"Call me if anything happens. Really!"
Tug.
Just then, someone grabbed my clothes as I turned to leave. What caught on?
"...Dale?"
Dale was looking up at me.
He brushed aside the hair covering his face and looked at me with clear eyes.
"If you call after something happens, it will be too late."
His gaze was intense.
"Don't go."
Dale whispered in a low voice, staring at me intently. His face was red from fever, but his eyes were clear.
Dale looked at me with a tense expression.
"Understood!"
At my words, Dale's lips parted.
His face showed surprise at receiving affirmation for words he'd spoken without conviction.
"Was that just something you said off the cuff?"
Dale shook his head slowly.
"Then why am I here?"
This time, he nodded.
He fell silent like a child, staring intently at me.
"You're right, Dale. If I only came running after something happened, it would be too late. If I came running after you fell, you'd already be injured by then, wouldn't you?"
"...."
I smiled brightly and sat beside Dale again.
It felt as though Dale was finding reassurance in my words. It didn't feel like mere imagination.
'Dale depends on me.'
It was a gratifying feeling, like watching an injured bird whose wings I'd mended and carefully tended gradually regain its vigor and flutter with life.
I changed Dale's pillowcase and adjusted it properly beneath his head.
Once I'd replaced it with a fresh, fluffy pillow, Dale seemed more comfortable as he rested his head against it.
Whether the pain made him quieter or not, Dale gazed at me silently.
His eyes remained open, but whenever he seemed about to close them, he'd open them again—as if he didn't want to sleep, or whenever sleep seemed to come, he'd resist it.
"Can't you sleep?"
"...Yes."
"If you don't sleep, I'll ask you where, when, how, and what you were doing when you got hurt."
"...."
Dale quietly averted his gaze.
Just as I began to notice his silence lengthening, he turned his head back toward me.
He stared at me wordlessly, his eyes wide open like a cat fascinated by a human. Likely the fever was making him unlike his usual self.
The neat and composed Dale was the one I knew, but this vulnerable Dale was endearing too.
I smiled and checked Dale's temperature again.
"Oh! It's dropped quite a bit! I think a good night's sleep is all you need."
"I have a question."
"Yes, yes. Ask me anything."
I responded to him while changing his bandages.
"I...."
That was when Dale opened his mouth.
His voice was hoarse from illness, rougher than usual.
"When I wake up from sleep, will Enya still be beside me?"
"...."
"Will you have disappeared by then?"
Dale asked me seriously while looking directly at me. This was the first time I'd seen him look so uncertain.
With my quick intuition, I deduced what this was!
"I'll be beside you when you wake up too."
I'd guessed correctly.
That was exactly the answer Dale had been hoping for.
As I spoke, Dale's expression visibly eased, the tension draining from his features.
The sick grow weak-hearted so easily.
Dale had worked tirelessly until now, so it was only natural he'd be exhausted and worn.
Though Dale was my employee, he was also an irreplaceable companion—someone I'd endured hardship alongside.
"I'll be right here, so you can rest easy and sleep."
I patted Dale's shoulder gently. He gazed up at me from where he lay, then closed his eyes.
When I took his hand, he gripped it so tightly his palms grew damp, refusing to let go.
Was it the pain?
This wasn't like Dale at all.
'Then again, it would be strange if he were exactly the same. He must possess superhuman willpower.'
Soon, steady, rhythmic breathing filled the silence. Dale fell asleep far more quickly than I expected.
I gazed quietly at his sleeping face.
Still pallid, yet somehow all the more captivating for it.
I shouldn't be thinking such things about a sick man.
But truly, Dale was beautiful—like an angel.
I could almost demand answers from the author herself: why hadn't Dale appeared even as a handsome extra or a significant supporting character? He was far too striking.
'Did the author simply have no interest in such a face?'
How could a face like this not appear even once in the entire narrative?
The world's design was flawed. Absolutely flawed.
"A man like this should have been the male protagonist."
The author's taste was abysmal.
Why create a man with every perfection as nothing more than an extra, yet make a deeply flawed man the protagonist?
"If Dale had been The Emperor, I wouldn't have needed to run away."
I stroked Dale's dark hair, delighting in how it fell soft and silken, like a glossy puppy's fur.
Dale had mentioned he'd smell of sweat, but handsome men seemed exempt from such things.
"Hmm? A scar?"
As I ran my fingers through his hair, I felt something catch against my palm—a rough spot on his scalp.
A slightly raised, rough patch of skin.
I carefully traced it again with my fingertips.
Beneath the hair, I could distinctly feel a long scar. Head wounds weren't common—where had he struck himself?
'Don't pry into his personal affairs.'
That was our contract.
Whoever Dale had been in the past, now he was the Dale I knew. If he'd wanted me to know, he would have told me.
So there was no need to ask him about it.
"Sleep well."
I continued stroking his hair to help him sleep deeply, and before long, I drifted off beside him.
* * *
"...."
"Haaa—"
I stretched languidly while lying in bed.
The cheerful chirping of birds filled the air, and my body felt pleasantly heavy and drowsy—it was wonderful.
"Mmm."
Getting up seemed like too much effort. But why was this bed so incredibly comfortable?
This bed....
That's right.
This wasn't the small bed in the Office—it was a large one.
I lay there in quiet contemplation.
Had Dale woken up yet?
"Dale?"
I fumbled carelessly with my hand, feeling around the space beside me.
At that moment, a warm body suddenly pulled me into an embrace.
Brought to you by Valir Scans! To support our team and enjoy the latest releases, please read directly on our official site: valirscans.org