I Am The Dying Emperor’s Doctor

“Nocturne, I saw James hand it to Patrick with my own eyes, so if you need a witness, let me know. This is evidence, so keep it safe.”

Ophelia glared at Nocturne, who had suddenly appeared to help, and replied curtly.

“I could have found it myself.”

“That’s why you were searching empty pockets, Ophelia.”

“You’re insufferable.”

Ophelia muttered a low curse as she took the magic orb from Nocturne, who smiled leisurely while she inspected it. It was a fire-element magic orb capable of burning down an entire hall. James blinked in confusion, unable to understand what had gone wrong. He had seen Nocturne drink the wine with the sleeping potion.

Nocturne, noticing James’ bewildered expression, spoke up.

“Are you surprised I’m awake?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” James muttered, looking away. He intended to deny everything and bide his time.

But Nocturne, dropping his polite demeanor, taunted him.

“You put a sleeping potion in my drink. You looked so happy when I drank it.”

“You bastard…”

“Trying to assert your authority as an older brother? I don’t bother with formalities for those beneath me.”

Nocturne’s smile was mocking, making James’ face turn red with anger.

“How did you know? More importantly, why are you still awake?”

Nocturne, folding his arms, recalled his conversation with Serena.

‘You want me to drink the sleeping potion?’

‘Yes, so they’ll let their guard down.’

‘But wouldn’t that put me in danger? Is there a way around it?’

‘Take this.’

‘What is it?’

‘A remedy that counteracts the sleeping potion. If you take it, you won’t fall asleep.’

‘Why did you make something like this?’

‘Let’s just say it’s a hobby.’

The more Nocturne knew Serena, the more fascinating she became. What kind of doctor was so dedicated to making all sorts of antidotes?

Instead of these seemingly pointless pursuits, she could focus on more notable research to further her career.

Nocturne suspected she had an extensive collection of antidote recipes for various poisons, allergies, and diseases. Why she made them remained a mystery, but one thing was clear: she was devoted to saving the emperor.

“Stop smirking and answer me.”

“Maybe my backer is stronger than yours. It’s laughable that you thought you could harm me with a cheap magic orb.”

Nocturne’s derision made James’ face contort with rage. Nocturne passed by him and addressed Ophelia.

“I’ve restrained Michael. Get the explanation from him and handle it according to the family’s rules.”

“Why involve me if you could handle it alone?”

Ophelia glared at Nocturne, who replied calmly.

“I don’t want to be involved in Greenwood affairs anymore.”

“You’re always a Greenwood, Nocturne.”

Nocturne stared at Ophelia silently, her words like shackles. She felt overwhelmed by his gaze until he murmured,

“I never thought I’d hear you say I’m always a Greenwood.”

Her icy remark made Ophelia bristle, but before she could respond,

“Stop ignoring me…!”

Crash!

Patrick, trembling from drunkenness and fear, grabbed a wine bottle from a waiter and smashed it against the wall. Red wine splattered, looking like blood, chilling everyone.

James hiccupped, shocked by Patrick’s sudden boldness. Patrick, usually timid, seemed emboldened by alcohol—at the worst possible time.

“Yaaah!”

Patrick screamed and charged at Nocturne. Nocturne could have dodged, but Ophelia was beside him.

“Damn it.”

Nocturne cursed and shielded Ophelia instead of evading. Ophelia, expecting Nocturne to save himself, was stunned by his protective gesture.

“…Aaaah!”

A nearby young lady screamed in fear as Patrick swung the wine bottle at Nocturne’s head.

Fwoosh!

A wall of fire erupted in front of Nocturne and Ophelia. Patrick, unable to stop, stumbled into the flames and rolled on the floor, screaming in agony.

“My arm! My arm!”

Patrick’s hair was singed, and his clothes were on fire. James hurriedly doused him with water.

“Nocturne, I gave you the Ezring for moments like this.”

A serene voice echoed through the hall. All eyes turned to Azeid, leaning casually against the terrace wall.

He gazed at Nocturne calmly, seemingly unperturbed by the near-fatal incident.

His composed demeanor was so intimidating that even the screaming young lady fell silent. Azeid, surveying the scene, spoke again.

“I’ve always told you: if you’d rather not get hit, hit first.”

Nocturne released Ophelia and replied.

“I was about to, Your Majesty, when you arrived.”

“Show-off.”

Azeid snapped his fingers, extinguishing the wall of fire and the flames on Patrick. Nocturne and Ophelia were unharmed, but Patrick was severely burned.

Azeid’s display of magical prowess drew gasps from the onlookers.

James, realizing the severity of the situation with the emperor involved, lowered his head to hide his frustration. His plan to disgrace Nocturne had backfired spectacularly.

Patrick, foaming at the mouth, had fainted. Ophelia, overwhelmed by the recent events, was visibly shaken. Azeid addressed Nocturne.

“Young Lady Greenwood seems quite distressed. Escort her.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

Nocturne offered his arm to Ophelia, who swayed as she tried to take it. Though she despised showing weakness, the recent chaos had clearly affected her. Nocturne, seeing her unsteady, lifted her in his arms.

“I can walk!”

Ophelia whispered fiercely. Ignoring her, Nocturne bowed to Azeid and carried her away.

The smell of alcohol wafted from the wine-stained wall. At Azeid’s signal, the orchestra resumed playing, gradually restoring the hall’s atmosphere.

As servants cleaned up the glass shards, Azeid returned to the terrace. The commotion had settled, and it was time to head back.

Serena, using his coat as a blanket, was sound asleep, oblivious to the chaos. Bathed in moonlight, she looked like a peaceful child.

Mesmerized, Azeid crouched before her, gazing intently. He didn’t realize how close he was until he noticed her long, dark lashes resting on her cheeks, like butterfly wings.

Her serene face and red lips captivated him.

“Ah.”

Azeid sighed, recalling how her lips had touched his fingers. He glanced at the faint marks of her teeth on his hand, lost in thought.

The lingering softness of her touch made his face flush and his heart race.

Azeid, feeling strangely shy, brushed his lips with the same hand she had bitten. Without realizing it, he placed his other hand on his chest, trying to calm his racing heart.

Thump thump. Pat pat.

Lately, every time he saw Serena, his heart trembled inexplicably.

‘Why am I like this?’

Azeid, attributing it to poor health, sighed deeply. His breath tickled Serena’s face, causing her to stir slightly. As he focused on her, someone approached.

“Your Majesty.”

Leonard, returning from his task, called out. Azeid sprang up like a guilty man caught in the act.