The Lady Nun Vows Revenge novel Chapter 261

Chapter 261

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The moment Nolan mentioned a headache, Eliza didn’t even have time to react to how intimate he’d just sounded calling her by name. Her expression changed instantly as she asked with urgency, “A headache? What kind of pain? Does it come in waves, or is it constant and sharp?”

Nolan replied, “It comes and goes… like there are dozens of voices shouting inside my head. It’s loud. It hurts.”

He stared straight at her. The man who was always poised and untouchable now looked like a wounded wolf–lost, fragile, trying to bare his pain to the only human he trusted.

Eliza had never seen Nolan like this.

Even that first time by the stream on the back hill, when she’d witnessed one of his episodes, he’d still kept some degree of clarity. But now? It was like he’d peeled off every layer of defense, exposing his most vulnerable side completely to her.

Her heart ached. She reached out to check his forehead, then gently took his pulse. “Shh, it’s okay. I’ll read scripture for you -just sit quietly and listen. The pain will go away soon.”

But Nolan, apparently struck by a rebellious streak, suddenly caught her wrist just as she was pulling her hand back. His voice was low and rough.

“Eliza… I don’t want scripture.”

“Then what do you want?” she asked, slightly thrown.

Of course, when someone’s ill, they get to make the call.

But halfway through that question, she realized something was off. “Wait… did you just call me Eliza?”

Hadn’t he always called her Serenity?

Across from her in the carriage, Nolan sat still, eyes dark and unreadable.

He didn’t respond immediately. Instead, after a long pause, he said again, “My head… it hurts…”

She didn’t know if it was part of the illness or just him pretending to be dazed, but he kept murmuring the same thing, like a broken record.

Eliza met his crimson gaze. For a brief moment, she thought–maybe it was just her imagination–but she could swear she saw longing there.

She hesitated. “If you don’t want scripture… do you want me to go get more medicine?”

“No.” This time, he answered quickly. Then his voice turned soft again, pleading. “My head hurts. No medicine… not enough. “That last part clicked.

Eliza hesitated. Could she bring it out now? Was it the right time?

Her transplanted Bloodshade Blossoms weren’t ready. And the century–old bloom still hidden in her pocket farm… if she used it now…

“Eliza,” Nolan suddenly said, “my head hurts. Can I… touch you?”

Eliza froze.

“What?”

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Chapter 261

She was speechless. Was this man joking? Was he testing her? Since when did touching someone make migraines disappear?

If not for the crimson in his eyes, the signs of an actual episode, she’d have sworn he was just faking it to mess with her.

Still, she didn’t answer.

And then, like a disappointed puppy, Nolan slumped his head low and murmured, “You won’t let me touch you… it hurts.”

She didn’t respond.

Fifteen minutes later, Eliza sat in the carriage, both of her hands gently rubbing his scalp. Her fingers threaded carefully through his soft silver hair as she asked, “Is this okay? Too much pressure? Am I pulling your hair? If it still hurts, just let me know, all right?”

Nolan, now half–lying beside her, eyes closed, let out a low sigh of contentment. “It’s perfect… not too much… you didn’t pull. It hurts just a little–but when you touch me, it’s better.”

Relieved, Eliza gave a faint smile.

Thank goodness she still remembered the pressure points Mary had taught her. Combining that with a bit of massage technique actually seemed to help.

She leaned in closer, adjusting her fingers along his scalp, carefully seeking the right acupoints.

After a while, the carriage became very quiet. Even with the rattling wheels outside, the soft sound of Nolan’s steady breathing filled the space.

Eliza looked up–he was asleep. Really asleep.

She slowed her movements and, once she was sure he was soundly resting, gently retracted her hands.

Gazing down at the tension that lingered on his brow, she hesitated for a moment, then quietly reached into her pocket farm and pulled out a vial of pure, undiluted spirit water.

She uncorked it and carefully held it to Nolan’s lips.

Thanks to the relaxing massage, he was completely defenseless. When she lightly tapped the bottle to his mouth, his lips parted just enough for her to pour it in–bit by bit.

Once it was done, she wiped the edge of his lips with a cloth, then sat quietly by his side.

After a long silence, her voice finally broke the stillness–soft and low, as if whispering into his dream.

“Don’t worry,” she said gently. “Your medicine… it’s finally enough.”

*****

That night, Nolan dreamt again–of war, of blood, of bodies strewn across the battlefield. He’d lost count of how many times he’d had this nightmare, each one more gruesome than the last.

But this time, something changed.

The screams, the hatred, the voices that always haunted his mind–they began to fade.