Forcing back the wave of nausea, I opened my mouth and let the bitter concoction slide down my throat.
It was unbearable, far worse than anything I had ever tasted in my past life.
Just then, footsteps echoed outside. Amaris turned eagerly toward the door, only to quickly remember something. She glanced back at me, trying to reassure me with a forced smile.
"Stop being so stubborn. Silas agreeing to help us is already a great favor."
She wore a pitiful expression as though on the verge of tears.
"Do you really think I want to bring an outsider into our home?"
I couldn't stomach her act any longer. I simply closed my eyes.
"Alaric, are you alright? I heard you coughing from far away. You really need to take care of yourself."
A man peered in from the doorway, short, dark-skinned, with an uneasy yet ingratiating smile.
But behind his mask of kindness, I caught the briefest flash of cunning and smugness.
My stomach churned and the bitter medicine threatened to rise once again.
Amaris rose, taking the things Silas was carrying and practically pulled him inside.
"Silas, you’re finally here! There’s so much work waiting for you at home."
Silas rubbed his hands together, grinning widely, his yellowed, smoke-stained teeth exposed like a predator’s.
"Don’t worry about a thing, Alaric. Now that I’m here, you can count on me."
His eyes quickly scanned the room, barely concealing the greed behind his gaze.
"Silas is a hardworking man," Amaris added, her voice sweet with feigned concern. "Now that he’s here, you can finally rest easy."
Rest easy? More like it would make things easier for you two to act.
Suppressing the boiling nausea and rage that surged inside me, I forced out a weak smile and gave a slight nod.
Amaris smiled with satisfaction and patted my blanket.
"Alright, just focus on recovering. Silas and I will go make dinner."
She stood up and Silas eagerly followed her, dragging her out of the room.
Once again, I was left alone.
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms, the sharp pain keeping me sharp.
"This time, I won’t let myself be slaughtered so easily."
Amaris, Silas, I would take back what you owe me with interest.
Ever since Silas had arrived, Amaris seemed less wary of me.
Seizing her carelessness, I secretly poured out part of the bitter medicine she had given me. Slowly, my strength began to return.
That day, when I stepped out of my room, I was greeted by a sight that twisted something inside me.
Silas sat in the main seat of my house, the very chair my father had left me. His posture was arrogant, as if the place was already his.
Amaris bustled around him, overly eager to please, a sweetness to her tone I had never heard before.
"Brother Silas, have some water," she cooed.
As Silas took the cup, his fingers brushed against the back of her hand.
The touch lingered, his fingers creeping up her arm, nearing her chest.
I let out a soft cough, an interruption in their little game.
Amaris jerked back, her hand pulling away as though burned. Her face flushed crimson and she shot a frantic glance in my direction.
I shut my eyes quickly, forcing a fit of ragged, gut-wrenching coughs to cover the awkward tension.
"Alaric, are you alright?"
Amaris rushed to my side, her cool hand resting lightly on my back as she gave it a soft pat.
The faint scent of tobacco lingered on her, a scent that mirrored the one that clung to Silas.
"It’s just my old illness. Nothing serious," I rasped, my voice weak, barely above a whisper.
"Then rest up. Amaris and I have things to discuss outside."
Silas rose from his seat, his voice carrying an air of authority as if he were the rightful master of the house.
