Four days had passed.
Stuart, battered and having inhaled too much of the oppressive miasma in the forest, was deteriorating rapidly. Edmund had steadfastly refused to accompany him. Without the pest and beast repellent powders Edmund had spread around his cabin, Stuart doubted he could safely wait even another two days in that perilous environment.
Edmund, exasperated by Stuart's obstinacy and disruption of his solitude, was increasingly irritated. He had retreated to this remote forest to escape human contact, yet here he was, being disturbed.
In a burst of frustration, Edmund snapped, "Are you leaving or not? You're really getting on my nerves! It's so annoying when someone imposes like this! I've said no, and I mean no!"
Stuart's complexion was ashen, a sign of severe blood loss. The miasma-laden air made it increasingly difficult for him to remain without proper medical intervention, and his condition worsened the longer he stayed.
Seeing Stuart remain unmoved, Edmund said angrily, "What, do you want to die here and then blame me for it? I'll have you know, people around here used to call me the Grim Reaper because everyone close to me died. If you stay here and end up dead, don't say I didn't warn you."
Stuart replied calmly, "So, you're a Grim Reaper too?"
"Too?"
"Yeah, that's what they used to call me."
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: How the Ice King Became my Doting Billionaire Husband