Chapter 23: Isn’t this a bit ridiculous?
As if his headache had been waiting for Cass to hear just enough information, it came back in full force.
Cass groaned, his head throbbing and Sam and Sir Forsythe grew concerned immediately.
"My Lord?" Sam rushed over first, concern on his face as Cass clenched onto his head.
Unlike the times before where it had just felt like a classic, pounding headache, this time it felt like probing needles were digging into his head. It was extremely painful, and Cass couldn’t control the way his face twisted in pain.
Each centimeter that it felt like the prongs sunk, the more throbbing pain radiated from each point. It felt like hundreds of thousands of the prongs were reaching into his mind, into his brain and Cass wanted to scream.
No noise would come out, and Sam and Sir Forsythe were panicking.
"What do we do? We can’t call Lady Ava!" Sam was frantic, his hands soft and delicate on Cass’ shoulders. Cass couldn’t even shake off the touches, unable to speak. Unable to tell him that his fingers felt like ants on his skin.
"We should call a healer from a different religion. Damn it, we should have done this when he first got injured!" Sir Forsythe cursed, pacing the space before the desk. "Should I go right now? Damn it, I can’t leave. There are no other guards on right now! Curse my poor planning!" Cass would have laughed if he wasn’t in such unimaginable pain.
Fuck the "gods" if this was how they planned to give him the whole book. Those damn monsters!
Cass could feel his heartbeat in his chest, the blood in his veins, the way his lungs heaved as he tried to get air into his body. Everything in his body came to an excruciating point until he felt like his head was going to explode, then,
Nothing.
The pain faded faster then it came.
Cass sat in stunned silence, Sam and Sir Forsythe stood in silence as Cass stared at his hands, shaken. That was insane. It was crazy. He didn’t feel like anything had-
Drip
Cass stared down at the red liquid that dripped from his nose. In silence, he reached up, touched his nose and stared at his fingers as the slightly viscous liquid clung to his fingers.
Then all hell broke loose.
"Get a doctor!" Sam cried.
"I’ll ask Lady Fiona for help!" Sir Forsythe was moving towards the door quickly.
"My Lord, can you hear me?" Cass sighed, ducking his head and pinching his nose. He couldn’t say it was just a nosebleed since he was worried as well, but they were certainly overreacting.
"I’m fine, you two. I don’t need-"
"-he’s well enough to talk! I’ll go get a Doctor, you stay here and then we’ll switch!" Sam was yelling, but Sir Forsythe wasn’t any better. Sam nearly shoved Cass into the desk with his full force as he rushed towards the door. He pushed Sir Forsythe out the of way and slammed the door open, nearly running into Byron who had his hands full of books.
Byron sidestepped as Sam raced past him and stared into the office.
Cass had his head bent, his hair falling around his face, Sir Forsythe was panicking, and Sam had just raced past him.
"Um, is everything alright, my Lord?" He asked tentatively, and Sir Forsythe let out an exaggerated exhale.
"Perfect! You remain here with his lordship and I will go inform Lady Fiona what is happening." Sir Forsythe didn’t wait for Byron to respond and patted his shoulder as he passed him, rushing out of the room.
Cass chuckled. Oh fuck he was going to be in trouble.
"Come in Byron." Cass called. "I don’t believe I’m dying. They’re just overreacting." Byron tentatively stepped into the office, looking around in curiousity. Cass wasn’t able to look up at him since he was trying to get the blood to stop and he sighed as he stared at the splattering of blood that was definitely going to stain the desk.
Damn it. He hated that this was what he contributed so soon to Lord Blackburn’s reputation. A deep sickness when it was clear that Lord Blackburn was the kind of man who held everything inside.
He bet that if Lord Blackburn had been injured, he wouldn’t tell anyone and would have bore the wound as quietly as possible before hiding himself away and drinking that awful ’tonic’ as they had politely called it. Lord Blackburn should have been antihero coded, but instead he’d turned out to be the villain of his own story.
How the fuck was he supposed to recover his image? What was he even supposed to do? The only insight they gave him was that he shouldn’t let the end of the book come to pass. Where Lord Blackburn died? Or where he stole the relic?
It was unclear, and Cass hated that the most. He, Caspian Spencer, liked when things were clear. It was why he read so many books. They had clear endings. Even if he didn’t agree with them, they were at least clear.
You didn’t have to like an ending for it to happen. You just had to learn to accept it. It was how he got through his childhood, and yet, here he was, trying to interfere with someone else’s books ending.
Cass wanted to laugh and instead stared at his hand. His fingers were tinted with blood, and he was worried about how he was going to get it from out under his fingertips.
He hated blood. The smell, the texture, the taste.
"My Lord? Are you alright?" Byron asked tentatively and Cass raised his head slightly.
"I’m bleeding." Cass stated, and Byron’s eyes went wide.
"No wonder Sam and the guard were upset then. Do you...should I do something?" He asked, flustered and Cass did chuckle at that.
"Put down the books on the table between the couches and prepare yourself. No doubt the whole crew is going to arrive soon. I doubt that I, Lord Blackburn, ever call a Doctor." Cass told him and Byron nodded, rushing off to do as Cass said.
Then, they waited in silence as Cass finally stopped the bleeding and was able to sit up. Thankfully, for once, his clothing was black, so he was able to wipe his blood on the sleeves of the shirt he was wearing without worrying about it staining.
Maybe that’s why he always wore black? To hide the blood?
It was a good theory for now.
"Lord Cassian!" The door slammed against the wall as Lady Fiona threw it open, followed by Sam, Sir Forsythe, Lady Ava, and the rest of the men as well as another man who wore some kind of white coat.
A Doctor, presumably, but who was Cass to say?
"Sorry about worrying you, Lady Fiona. The bleeding has stopped already." Cass told them and she looked stricken.
"Doctor, please, have a look at him." Lady Fiona asked, and Sam slipped in behind everyone, making sure to clear a space for the Doctor near Cass’ desk.
It was not lost on him that the others seemed to be looking around his office in surprise. He apparently didn’t allow others in, and something twisted in his head.
The only person he had allowed in here was Lady Fiona. When they had first negotiated their marriage arrangement.
A gush of blood poured out of his nose and everyone began to panic again. Someone shrieked, and Lord Vespertine covered his nose with his sleeve.
"My gods, what a potent smell." He muttered and Cass chuckled. He bent forward, stopping the blood flow as he pinched his nose and the Doctor cried out.
"My Lord! That is the wrong way to do it!" He tried to jerk Cass back but Cass shot him a look. The Doctor, a slightly older gentleman who looked like he had kind eyes, froze at the glare directed towards him.
"This works. It always has worked. Do you want to drown me in blood?" Cass’ harsh words were only tempered with the way his voice sounded since his nose was plugged. The Doctor couldn’t move.
"C-Cass, this is common practise." Lady Ava started and Cass shot a look in her direction. He didn’t joke when it came to blood. He hated it.
"No. I will not budge. This worked. Byron watched me do this and it stopped the blood."
"And then it bled again!" Lady Fiona protested. Cass didn’t soften his gaze as he looked at his wife and her eyes widened. She furrowed her brows, before she sighed. "Fine! Have it your way, but if the gods protest, I am not defending you at your funeral." She muttered angrily, and Cass chuckled.
He didn’t need anyone to defend him at his funeral. It also wasn’t like anyone was going to be there. His grandfather would throw a party if he died before him.
Cass coughed, and blood splattered across the desk and papers. Horror crossed everyone’s expression and Cass wobbled, blinking a few times.
Oh dear. First it was the endless pain, and now he was coughing up blood like a sick, Victorian child. Next up, he was going to say something like ’my tummy hurts’ and then die from tuberculosis or something.
Cass didn’t really know what the symptoms of tuberculosis were, but he knew lots of people died from it.
Cass covered his mouth with his hand, continuing to cough and watched as more blood splattered across his hand. His face twisted in disgust as he felt it cover his hands. Disgusting.
"Ugh. Gross." Cass muttered and Lady Fiona looked hysterical.
"Oh my gods! W-What are we supposed to do?" She called and Cass coughed again. Lady Ava was sobbing.
"A-Ava." Cass called in between coughs. She jerked, her big, brown eyes full of tears.
"Cassian? What is it?" She asked, rushing to his other side as the Doctor put down his bag and shuffled through it. Everyone’s expression was grim as Cass kept coughing and blood kept coming out.
"Tell them that they owe me." Cass muttered quietly, his head feeling woozy. Shit. He must have not had a lot of blood he could lose. This damn weak body, and damn weak constitution.
Lady Ava’s expression was confused.
"Who? Who am I telling that to?" She asked and Cass raised his eyes upward, and she followed his gaze before it dawned on her. Her eyes widened. "C-Cassian! I can’t speak to them like that!" She protested, and then halted when he coughed up enough blood that it felt like the genre had changed from a reverse harem romance novel to a murder mystery rather quickly.
"You can." Cass said. "I believe in you." He told her and Lady Ava panicked.
"Cassian? Wait! Don’t close your eyes! Cassian!" Her panicked voice, along with the others were all he remembered hearing as he drifted into unconsciousness.