The Hidden Empress Stripping Her Secrets After Divorce novel Chapter 72

Morning light filtered through the gaps in the heavy drapes, casting pale golden dappled spots on the dark carpet of the suite.

Evelyn woke up to an unfamiliar, deep ache radiating through her bones. The moment her consciousness returned, fragmented and scorching memories from last night flooded her mind—the glass of water Lyra had handed her, Caleb's sickening smirk, the sharp sting of the blade cutting her own skin, and... Sebastian's intense gaze, his scalding kisses.

Her eyes snapped open, greeted by an unfamiliar ceiling and an extravagant crystal chandelier. The soreness in her body clearly communicated what had happened. A dull throb pulsed from the cut on her thigh, though it had been neatly bandaged. She was dressed in soft, clean loungewear that wasn't hers. A faint scent of cedar hung in the air, mixed with the crisp, distinctly masculine aura of the man who had been with her.

She didn't move immediately, simply lying there with clear eyes as she rapidly assessed her situation.

The drug had completely worn off. Aside from the physical discomfort and the throbbing cut, any lasting damage to her nervous system seemed to have been halted in time. This was all thanks to Sebastian... She pursed her lips. Logic dictated that under last night's circumstances, him personally curing her was likely the most optimal solution. At the very least, he was clean, and the aftermath was relatively controllable.

It was just... She twitched her fingers slightly, wincing as the movement pulled at her sore muscles. The price she paid was surrendering her twenty-five years of purity in such an absurd manner.

"You're awake?"

A deep voice drifted from the doorway.

Evelyn looked over. Sebastian was standing there, dressed in a casual light-gray outfit. His posture was tall and straight, his hair slightly damp, indicating he had just showered. He held a tray carrying a bowl of oatmeal, some light sides, and a glass of warm water. His expression was placid, revealing no particular emotion, yet the way those profound eyes locked onto her carried an indescribable intensity.

"How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?" He walked over, placing the tray on the nightstand, and naturally reached out to check her forehead.

Evelyn turned her head slightly, avoiding his touch. The movement was small, but the rejection was obvious.

Sebastian's hand paused in midair for a second before he naturally withdrew it and sat in the armchair beside the bed. "I checked your wound again; there are no signs of infection. But between the blood loss and... the sheer physical exertion, you need to rest." His tone was steady, as if delivering a medical diagnosis.

"Thank you." Evelyn's voice was hoarse. She propped herself up to sit, but the motion tugged at her wound and her aching core, making her freeze.

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