Chapter 198: Two Rascals Timothy and Iola POV

When Han fled the room, Timothy was left with Iola. And now it was just the two of them together. There was blood on the floors, a mess around the walls when the woman probably tried to get up and head to the bathroom and failed, but it didn't matter that much as long as he realized that she was okay.

Relief flooded into his chest and he nearly went out and rested down on his bed—if she hadn't been there herself. He instead kneeled down on the bed and rested his head against the mattress, "You gave me quite a scare didn't you?" All of his anger blew out in the face of her in trouble.

It really wasn't fair.

"I didn't plan on doing that."

But that wasn't how life worked.

Timothy raised his head, "Do you need water? I can get you some." He ignored her first response, all the questions he needed or wanted to ask of her were placed on a later occasion. He needed to make sure that she was really alright—losing that much blood. It didn't even look like all blood. Some black substance he didn't think could come out of one's body.

There was so much of it…

He forced himself to snap out of it. Erasing the memory away from the last moment's he experienced with his mother as he pulled himself up to his feet. If he couldn't change her clothes. And he wasn't going to do that at all, the least he could do was offer her a washcloth and wipe the grime off her face. Did she have any appetite?

Water might be enough for starters though.

His fear had erased all his sleepiness. Although he hadn't exactly done much either. Timothy Cook rubbed his face, he was supposed to talk with Iola in regards to the tome (She wasn't supposed to take it out from his bag) and he had also needed to mention it to Han about the man he had encountered in the city.

But now they were placed behind as he did his first task.

.

.

.

"I-It's cold!" Iola shuddered as something cold slithered its way on her. Were those scales? It glided through her skin and made goosebumps trail on her skin. It was the most uncomfortable of feelings—well, puking to her heart's content had hurt more.

A sigh escaped from the young man's lips, "Sorry, but bear with me for a moment? Unless you want all of this ick on your mouth and face, then don't be my guest."

She twitched her lips but made no reply, her eyes were squeezed shut. What nonsense was he blabbering? He really didn't mean that he'd throw her out right? He couldn't do that to her… but he seemed like the type who would. Even if they hadn't met too long, she thought he would do it.

At least he sounded serious.

Iola peeked one eye open and saw the cloth in the man's hand, it was now mixed with red and black and even his own shirt seemed stained with blood. How much did she come in contact with him for him to get dirty too? Even his face looked strict at this moment.

He made her remember all of those authoritative figures she'd often faced.

It wasn't a good memory.

"Not going to complain now?" Timothy eyed her. He reached out to her and dabbed her cheeks with the cloth, it barely scraped against her skin—and he did it carefully. His touch was gentle. "Would you like to drink some water? Can you drink?"

Even though he acted so snappish—his actions told another story. She really should have tried to get one of those rings from the storage, at least she wouldn't have had to suffer this much if she did, and he didn't need to take care of her. She wasn't thinking straight. It was only right that he took care of her—but she was still at fault for getting in trouble in the first place.

"Yes, please." Her breath rasped in her throat.

Timothy ended up getting another piece of cloth as he dunk it down into a liquid, he then offered it to her. "I'm not sure if you can drink in a cup, try to suck it out from here?" It didn't make much sense to him, but in a way, it also did. Had he read this from a book somewhere?

She sent a glare his way.

And even if she was faint, her skin was still pale and he was positive that she couldn't lift a finger against him—her gaze, it still made him shudder. One of his eyes twitched but he got her a cup to drink from. He then helped her sit up slightly and placed the cup to her lips. "Please drink slowly and don't force yourself."

He tipped the cup a bit.

She wasn't that immobilized, she probably could have stayed sitting up without his help...but she still accepted his help. It was better to be safe than sorry, and so she took a sip or two of her drink and then sighed. She rocked back slightly and blinked at her actions. "I believe I owe you… an apology."

He didn't say a thing.

Whether it was a conscious decision on his part, he was waiting for her to say something else or he wasn't sure what to say himself, it was still enough to make her feel a little frustrated. She reached out and held his wrist, pulling his hand and cup down. "I had simply wanted to learn it and prove that I could—but I only ended up making a fool of myself, haven't I? Maybe he was right, I won't amount to anything without a man beside me..."

"Who said that?"

"My father."

"Why would he say something like that?" Timothy blinked. Her touch prickled his skin, even the mere fact that he was sitting beside her was odd but her words pulled him out of it. "That's a load of bull, I know a lot of women who could have managed without a man just fine. My old neighbor Becky herds cows all by herself, I know someone who manages an inn all by herself… and even my mother didn't really need a man by her side to raise me."

"Your mother?"

"My mom was beautiful enough to get offers to get married again—even that old geezer tried to get with my mother." The memory was a little frustrating for him to recall, of Old Man Joe dropping by their house. And yet it was a memory of when she was alive. "Well, guess who got chased out with a frying pan?"

"I presume it was the old man."

"Who else?" Timothy sighed and got up from the bed while he made sure that she could continue to sit upright, "But it proves my point that a woman doesn't need a man, if she doesn't want to. Is that the reason why you ran away?" This was a rare time where they were talking about other people.

Would he finally understand why she ran away?

"...I suppose you could think of it that way. My father thinks that I need someone to help… take care of the family business, but I wouldn't be so helpless and hapless if he gave me a chance before." Iola gave him a look. Her brows were furrowed over. "Does that sound silly to you?"