Chapter 244 Alaric's Swagger
"Dashiell, don't get any wrong ideas!" Seraphina suddenly snapped, clearly agitated.
Dashiell looked at her, trying to process her reaction. All evening, she had been reminding him not to read anything into their situation.
"I didn't sleep with Sebastian simply out of respect he has for me! It's not that our relationship isn't strong!" Seraphina blurted out, her voice laced with indignation.
Dashiell just smiled faintly. "I know.
"I know you two have a good relationship," he added, understanding her sentiment.
"Just get out," Seraphina huffed, feeling a mix of frustration and embarrassment.
She felt as if Dashiell was taking advantage of the situation.
She thought, 'I have no obligation to explain my relationship with Sebastian to him.'
Seraphina angrily turned off the shower, grabbed a blue bath towel, and draped it over Dashiell's shoulders. Suddenly, she remembered the pink towel she had seen in the bathroom earlier. It was the same style as the blue one.
She found the so-called couple sets utterly annoying.
She resolved to throw them all out tomorrow.
Dashiell, unaware of Seraphina's internal turmoil, carefully made his way out of the bathroom and over to his bed.
"Take off your underwear," Seraphina instructed as Dashiell was about to get in bed.
Dashiell looked at her, puzzled. "Do you want to soak the bed?"
Seraphina rolled her eyes. "What are you thinking? Just get it done."
Dashiell nodded and turned away as Seraphina looked elsewhere. He removed his underwear and left it on the floor, then awkwardly climbed into bed and pulled the covers over himself.
"What pajamas do you want to wear?" Seraphina asked.
"Anything is fine."
Seraphina didn't press further. She walked over to the walk-in closet, which was surprisingly well-stocked for a place they had only recently bought. Dashiell's clothes nearly filled the entire closet.
She picked out a dark green silk pajama set and found a pair of black underwear. Opening the drawer, she had expected to see a rainbow of colors but instead found everything in black, white, or gray.
The closet was stocked not only with men's items but also with women's. Seraphina didn't want to dwell on how serious Dashiell was about their marriage.
Anyway, she married him with the attitude of getting a divorce.
After grabbing the clothes, she walked back to Dashiell. "Do you need any help?"
"No, I can manage," Dashiell said quickly.
Seraphina placed the clothes beside him, but he didn't rush to put them on.
"Do you want some water?" she asked.
"No, thanks."
"Need to use the bathroom?"
"Yes," Dashiell admitted.
Seraphina felt like she was going to lose it. He hadn't needed to go before the shower, but now, as soon as he was in bed, he needed the bathroom.
Dashiell himself felt a bit awkward, trying to navigate the situation as best as he could.
With Seraphina around, Dashiell hadn't had the chance to use the bathroom. Now, though, if he didn't go, he'd probably end up tossing and turning all night. And if he did get up to go himself, he might even fall. He was still getting used to life without his legs.
"Sorry for the trouble," Dashiell murmured, his voice barely audible.
He sounded like a child who'd done something wrong.
Seraphina told herself to be patient. She helped him get up from the bed and guided him to the bathroom. Once there, she positioned him in front of the toilet.
"Can you help lift the hem of my bathrobe?" Dashiell asked, his hands too cumbersome to manage it on his own. If he tried, he'd just end up making a mess.
Gritting her teeth, Seraphina lifted the robe from behind.
The sound of water flowing filled the bathroom.
Seraphina was stunned. She never imagined she'd be in a position like this, helping a man in such a personal manner. She stood there, head down, waiting.
The minutes ticked by, and it felt like an eternity. She was almost at her wit's end. "How long have you been holding this in?"
Dashiell pressed his lips together, his face flushed with embarrassment.
"Don't you worry you're going to burst your bladder?" Seraphina's voice was tinged with frustration.
Dashiell chose to remain silent, hiding his discomfort behind a mask of stoicism.
"All done?" Dashiell finally finished, seeming to exhale with relief as if he'd accomplished something monumental.
Seraphina let the bathrobe fall back into place and carefully assisted him back to the bed.
"Anything else you need?" she asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.
"No, that's it."
At that moment, Seraphina turned and walked out of the room without a word.
Dashiell almost called out "Goodnight," but the words stuck in his throat.
He knew that Seraphina was eager to leave his presence as quickly as possible.
Seraphina stormed back into her room and immediately flung herself into the jacuzzi. The water was warm, but it did little to soothe the agitation boiling inside her. She'd been holding it together while tending to Dashiell, but now, alone, her frustration was almost overwhelming.
She was bewildered by the reality of her situation. She had just played her part in the wedding ceremony with Dashiell and was now living in his house. This was supposed to be her and Sebastian's wedding night, a night filled with joy and shared dreams. Instead, she found herself alone, staring at the cold, empty room.
The thought of Sebastian, who should have been here with her, made her want to scream. She'd never imagined her life could turn out like this, so absurd and twisted. The world felt like it had gone mad, and she was stuck in a nightmare she never thought she'd live through.
The city lights twinkled outside, indifferent to her turmoil.
Meanwhile, at Alaric's villa, when Cecilia arrived with him, Alaric instructed George, who was waiting, "Get Maurice over here."
"But, your injury..."
"I'm fine, it's minor injury. Nothing serious," Alaric interrupted with a casual tone.
George wasn't convinced, and neither was Cecilia. The longer she spent around Alaric, the more she sensed a depth to him, a sort of impenetrable seriousness. He kept everything locked away, leaving her and others guessing about his true nature.
Maurice arrived half an hour later with Cassius in tow. Cecilia, sensing the gravity of the situation, retreated to the living room to watch TV and enjoy the nightly supplement George had prepared for her.
In the bedroom, Maurice peeled back Alaric's shirt and saw the bandages. "It's infected."
"Otherwise, why would I have called you?" Alaric shot back, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Maurice raised an eyebrow. "Did you do something unsuitable for minors?"
Alaric just gave a faint smile, not bothering to respond. Cassius, observing from the side, rolled his eyes. He thought to himself, 'Alaric's just slept with a woman—what's the big deal? I've been with hundreds, and I don't make a fuss about it!'
Cecilia sensibly left the room, watching TV in the living room and eating the nightly tonic George made for her.
In the bedroom, Maurice tore open Alaric's shirt and saw the wound under the bandage. He said, "It's infected."
"Why else would I call you?" Alaric retorted.
"Did you do something... inappropriate?"
Alaric smiled silently.
Cassius rolled his eyes hard.
'Alaric just slept with a woman, what's there to brag about?'
He had slept with hundreds, and he wasn't proud!
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