[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke
Chapter 320: The Perfect Cage

Chapter 320: The Perfect Cage

Darius sat at the edge of the bed. One of his hands was gently threading through Xion’s sweat-dampened hair while his other was clutching Xion’s limp hand.

The handkerchief he had used to wipe the blood was casually thrown onto the ground. Allen had tried to heal the injury, but the Archduke had reverted back to his state of not allowing anyone to touch him.

He’d done a rudimentary healing spell to stop the bleeding only enough to keep Xion clean from the crimson stains.

Darius didn’t care beyond that anymore.

His fingers moved in slow, rhythmic strokes, almost reverently. The kind of care someone would use when touching the sacred relics.

"You’re burning up again," he murmured, more to himself than to the sleeping young man.

After crying himself out, he tiredly closed his eyes again. Darius was so scared that Xion might fall into a coma again.

In an instant, Alchemist was summoned to the bed chambers.

Even after examining, Allen still hadn’t found the source of the problem.

Xion’s pale face had turned pink. Though it wasn’t the healthy blush that clung to him.

The feverish heat had painted the corners of his eyes and the tip of his nose red. Xion looked utterly pitiful.

"Just give me some time, Xion." Darius kissed the warm hand as he said, "It doesn’t matter if I have to bring all those damned ’thirteen elders’ here or not. I promise I’ll bring you back to exactly how you were."

Carefully tucking the hand under the thick duvet, he brought a damp cloth to Xion’s brow and dabbed it carefully. As if applying too much pressure would shatter him.

"I should’ve simply kept you in this room the moment I brought you here." His voice was soft but the regret had a venomous touch to it.

Xion had been hit hard—so had Darius.

The only difference was Xion had ended up crying.

Darius, on the other hand, was far more difficult to calm down. His stone heart which was only tender for Xion somehow became even more stoic.

If once he was willing to follow Xion into every corner of the world... now, he wanted to cut the world down into pieces until it fit inside this room.

Ah, no, not wanted anymore. He was going to do exactly that.

Perhaps Goddess wasn’t punishing him but warning him. Xion was far too precious to be allowed to roam in this cruel world on his own.

He needed to be kept in full safety. Every minute, every second.

"When you wake up, I will mend you. And then I’ll wrap you in the softest of silks, put guards at every door you can think of. No one would touch you then. No one would ever harm you."

His lips curled into something close to a smirk, though it was twisted.

Like a madman’s promise, he pressed a kiss to Xion’s temple right after.

It was the same mouth that issued war decrees without blinking.

Now, it trembled just a little.

"You’re the only reason I know what warmth is." Another kiss, lower, on the tip of his red nose. "Only you can make me willing to gouge my eyes out for you."

He cupped Xion’s cheek, thumb brushing just below the lashes that hid lifeless, unseeing eyes.

The wetness was still there. Like gasoline, it had poured onto Darius’ barely there sanity and burned it to ashes.

Was it because Xion had said that blue suited him or was it because it was the color of Xion’s beautiful eyes? Darius couldn’t tell which one was the reason but blue had become his first preference.

Xion might not have noticed it but the faint shades of the walls and even the curtains were of that color.

"Wake up and talk to me," his voice dropped further, nearly inaudible. "I can’t even butcher our enemies properly until I know who hurt you."

Thinking of what those witnesses had told them, a dark light flashed in his dull gaze.

The fake saintess had died, and that too on their territory.

Recalling how Xion had dealt with those orcs years ago, Darius could more or less guess that this was his doing too.

Then he witnessed a charred body clad in scorched, barely-there hints of a sanctimonious white gown.

He clenched his jaw, hard enough that the muscles in his face visibly ticked. That wench had it easy.

But the royal court would mourn her demise, and without a doubt, they would demand the culprit be punished heavily.

Knowing Silas’ rather vindictive nature, he was sure they would try to take Xion away from him.

Was Darius worried?

Come to think of it, instead of worrying, he was suddenly glad

. This had given him the perfect opportunity. A chance to put Xion in a cage.

Though he doubted the people backing Talia would stay still.

His Xion was far too sweet to understand it, but he wasn’t that naive.

With little Silas being the crown prince and many illegitimate princes and princesses eyeing the crown like hungry vultures, it wasn’t hard to guess what kind of childhood Talia might’ve grown up in.

Darius had never once pitied Talia when she was just a toddler. Even when barely six or seven, she had learnt to find support for herself.

Perhaps it was her good luck that the Archduchess she chose truly loved her as her daughter. But to Darius, it looked like a disaster disguised as a blessing.

After all, before she could even reap the benefits, his dear mother died.

Talia had been gathering her power under the influence of the church all these years. However, her ultimate goal was something else entirely.

Although she was smart, in essence, she was still just a child. She might be dancing but the one pulling the strings behind her was the one deciding on the moves and melodies.

And Darius decided to crush that aid.

His mind swarmed with brutally painful ways to ruin someone.

Yet he never stopped the motion of his hand on Xion’s hair. His touch remained gentle and controlled. Almost maddeningly so.

Slowly, he too lay down beside Xion, wrapping their bodies to supply warmth to the quivering young man.

Darius buried his face into the crook of Xion’s neck and breathed him in like a dying man craving air.

The familiar slightly herbal scent with the hint of sweetness soothed him.

"If I could take your pain into my body, I would."

He meant it. That terrifying, possessive sincerity laced every syllable he uttered.

"You’re not allowed to leave me anymore," he whispered into Xion’s skin. "I won’t let you."

Meanwhile sleeping Xion found himself in an entirely different dimension.

"Can he make it out alive? What if he failed?"

The voice made the frown on Xion’s delicate eyebrows deepen.