Chapter 441

Evelyn studied their expressions and could piece together what had transpired, though she chose not to pry.

Edmund turned to her, resting a hand on her shoulder. "Kyle and I have matters to attend to. Zoe, you should head back first."

She nodded, watching as they departed.

Just then, Chloe rushed up to her, slightly out of breath. "Mrs. Goldmann, there you are! I was afraid you'd left."

"What's wrong?"

Chloe took a moment to steady herself before speaking hurriedly. "Mr. Goldmann isn't doing well. Elder Master Goldmann wants to see you immediately."

Evelyn followed her swiftly to the room. Inside, aside from Oliver and Theodore, the others were unfamiliar—likely members of the Night Banquet.

Nathan lay on the bed, his face alarmingly pale, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead. A specialist Theodore had summoned was checking his temperature. After a moment, the doctor turned to Oliver. "When did Mr. Goldmann's fever start?"

Oliver hesitated. "He seemed unwell when he returned this morning."

Evelyn froze. This morning? Had he been running a fever all night?

Theodore's sharp gaze landed on her. "Nathan was with you last night. How could you not notice his condition?"

Her lips trembled slightly, but no words came. She had asked him to stay, but she'd kept her distance, afraid of aggravating his wounds. And this morning, he hadn’t mentioned feeling ill.

The other men turned to study her, curiosity flickering in their eyes. This was their first encounter with her, but they already knew who she was.

Theodore scoffed bitterly. "Ever since Nathan got involved with you, his life has been nothing but turmoil. At this rate, you’ll be the death of him."

The air in the room thickened.

Their gazes shifted, now laced with scrutiny. To them, Nathan was the heir of the Night Banquet, and his wife couldn’t afford to be weak.

First, he was shot in Stoslo. Now, he was sick. He had spent the night with her, and Theodore had already blamed her for the earlier incident. Now, he was piling everything onto her shoulders.

Evelyn felt the weight pressing down on her chest, suffocating.

It was as if Theodore saw her as the root of all misfortune—especially because of her ties to the de Arma family.

The specialist administered medication before stepping out to confer with Theodore. Evelyn remained by the window, her eyes fixed on Nathan’s pallid face. A sharp pang of guilt twisted inside her.

This was all her fault.

Chloe approached quietly, offering comfort. "Mrs. Goldmann, don’t take Elder Master’s words to heart. He’s just worried. He didn’t mean it."

Evelyn forced a faint smile. "I know. But I should have taken better care of him."

Nathan didn’t wake until late afternoon.

His heart clenched when he saw Evelyn slumped beside his bed, asleep. He reached out, brushing his fingers lightly against her cheek.

She stirred, lifting her head to meet his gaze. "You're awake?"

He nodded, then winced as a cough tore through him.

"I’ll get you water." She stood quickly, returning with a glass.

He drank deeply, relief washing over him as the cool liquid soothed his throat. "Have you been here the whole time?"