How to Tame My Beastly Husband

How to Tame My Beastly Husband — Chapter 252. Rain or Tears (1)

Translator: Atlas / Editor: Regan

Stairs were a dangerous place for a pregnant woman, but Annette calmly descended them, hurrying toward the first floor drawing room. She looked around.

“Raphael?”

The first floor was silent. The only sound was the fierce wind rattling the windows. Carrying an oil lamp, Annette walked through the huge marble mansion.

Where did he go?

Now she was frightened. Raphael didn’t usually go too far with his sleepwalking, but he didn’t seem to be in the mansion at all. She raised her voice.

“Raphael? Raphael! Where are you?”

The wind drowned out her soft voice. Even a Master of Swords was unlikely to hear her under these circumstances.

Her eyes filled with tears. How could Raphael just walk away like this, even with his anxiety? She regretted that she had trusted him so much.

“Raphael!”

The moment her tears threatened to overflow, the door suddenly opened, and Raphael finally appeared.

“Raphael!” She cried reproachfully. Had he been in the garden? Why would he go out in a windstorm?

But she was relieved to find him, all the same. Annette turned ponderously toward him, and Raphael hastened immediately to her, as if he was afraid she might fall.

His body was a little cold when he touched her, and in the moonlight, with the dark marble of the mansion, his face looked like a vampire’s. Annette looked up at him worriedly.

“You weren’t there when I woke up, so I came to find you,” she said. “Why did you go outside? It’s so terrible out, aren’t you cold?”

She reached out a hand to touch him, thoughtless after so many months. It never occurred to her that he would dislike her touch, especially when he was leaning over her, anxious as always about her. He would never walk away from her.

But this time, he drew back, and her hand was left grasping air. Annette’s face crumpled as if she were going to cry. He was avoiding her now? Posted only on NovelUtopia.com

“Raphael?”

He bit his lip at the sight of the tears in her eyes. He looked away.

“I’m a little cold,” he said, his voice faltering. “I just went for a walk in the garden because I couldn’t sleep. Let’s go back upstairs.”

So he had gone out there in the middle of the night in the whole of his senses. It took her a moment to realize he was still lying.

“Don’t dodge me, Raphael,” she said clearly. “I will be angry if you do it again.”

Again, she reached out her hand, and though Raphael was clearly reluctant to be examined, he couldn’t ignore her warning.

He was freezing.

A Swordmaster had a stable body temperature. If his hands were this cold, he had been walking in the garden for hours. This did not look like a little walk because hecouldn’t sleep.

Annette moved the oil lamp closer to warm them, and as she did, she felt his fingers. His palms.

“Your hands are wet,” she said involuntarily, startled. “Is it raining out?”

The wind was blowing, but the storm hadn’t arrived yet. Why were his hands wet? Quickly, her hands moved over his body, and found that his shirt was damp, too.

“How strange,” she said. “It’s not raining.”