The Tyrant's Terminally-Ill Childhood Friend (Completed Main Story) - Chapter 91

Peter looked as though he had literally lost his mind. Lowell had become his perfect consort—or rather, was in a state where one could neither affirm nor deny that she was his consort. In such a state, an accident occurred, and from his perspective, it must have felt as if a hole had been drilled into his throat, with his breath leaking out helplessly.

However, Simoren judged that leaving the deranged Peter beside the dying Lowell would only hasten and guarantee her death even more swiftly. Already, Peter’s magic was corroding the surroundings. Simoren, who could wield sword energy, might endure it to some extent, but Lowell certainly could not.

Having already noticed Lowell’s clothes beginning to corrode, Simoren finally resolved to risk his own life and seized hold of Peter.

“Your Majesty, please calm yourself. It would be faster to take Lady Anette to the village than to wait for a physician. And….”

He held his breath once, then exhaled it all at once.

“You must remain here.”

“…What nonsense are you spouting? Anette is right now…!”

“It is precisely because Lady Anette is in critical condition that you must stay here! Look at the state of Lady Anette’s clothing! There will be civilians in the village. Your Majesty knows better than anyone what might happen if you go there in your current state!”

Only then did Peter lower his eyes as if struck hard across the face. In that brief moment, he finally noticed Lowell’s tattered garments and her pale, lifeless face. Only then did he realize that his very presence inflicted harm even upon the one he loved.

The strength drained from Peter’s hands as he held Anette. Catching Lowell’s falling body, Simoren spoke with heavy reluctance.

“…I will take Lady Anette to the village myself. Please remain here, Your Majesty.”

He could not promise he would surely bring her back alive—Simoren was simply incapable of lying. But the moment he lifted Lowell, Simoren sensed that her consciousness still clung faintly, however weakly, to life.

‘Her breathing is uneven.’

If she had truly lost consciousness, her breath would not be so irregular. Simoren carried her into the carriage. Riding on horseback would have been fastest, but doing so risked worsening her condition further.

‘First, I must get to the village and find a physician.’

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