Chapter 376: The Empress Decrees: No Clyde Allowed
Micah buried his face in Clyde’s chest, his cheek pressing against the man’s shirt, catching the faint sandalwood scent. His ribs screamed like hell with every step Clyde took, but he gritted his teeth, forcing down the groans threatening to break free.
Clyde glanced down, eyes catching the bruise spreading across Micah’s cheekbone. The sight made something inside of him snap. His gaze darkened, lips pressed into a hard line. Whoever had laid hands on him, whoever had dared, would pay. He would find that bastard and return it tenfold.
Neither of them spoke. Even Darcy, trailing behind them, kept his silence.
They reached the car. Darcy slowed. Ahead, Emile stood near the curb, waiting. His posture was stiff, hands buried in his pockets, eyes darting nervously between the building and the approaching figures.
The moment he saw Micah cradled in Clyde’s arms, he gasped.
"Hold it," Clyde barked before Emile could open his mouth.
Emile flinched visibly.
The driver hurried to open the door. Clyde bent slightly, easing Micah into the backseat, and sat beside him. He turned toward the two. "My secretary will be here shortly. You two take the other car and follow."
With that, Clyde shut the door and signalled the driver. The car pulled into the street and drove off toward the hospital.
Emile shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. He cast a quick glance at Darcy. "Ah... how did he end up like that? Is he okay?"
Darcy’s expression was unreadable. "He was involved in a fight. That’s all I know."
"Whose house was that? Why was he here?" Emile pressed more, frowning.
Darcy ran a hand through his dark hair. "What’s your relationship with him?" he asked instead.
The question caught Emile off guard. He blinked, colour rising to his cheeks. "Mm... he is my uncle," he said, sheepishly. "Sorry, I didn’t mention it before... It’s just...Micah didn’t want to talk about my uncle at the dorm or on campus."
Darcy’s expression changed. His mind raced. So that was how Clyde had met Micah. Probably through Emile. Or maybe through their families.... No. He remembered clearly. Micah hadn’t known Emile or his cousin the first time they met at the dorm.
And Clyde... hadn’t he spoken coldly of the Ramsy family at the hospital? He seemed to despise them... Perhaps the truth beneath it was too muddy. But he thought Ramsy’s family was fond of Micah based on what he had seen until now.
Anyway, Darcy was more certain Emile was the middleman. His gaze turned sharp toward him.
Emile flinched under his gaze. "What?" he asked defensively.
Darcy gritted his teeth but didn’t speak. He turned away and slid into the waiting car. Emile followed, unsettled.
Meanwhile, in the other car, Micah shut his eyes. His body sagged with exhaustion, his chest hurting. His upper torso was lying against Clyde’s lap. Every bump in the road threatened to jolt his injured ribs, but Clyde’s steady hold kept him from swinging with the motion.
Micah didn’t argue. He didn’t have the strength, and more than that, he didn’t have the will. Their relationship was already fractured, turning into something awkward and unbearable. In his heart, it felt as though Clyde had banished him to a cold palace, one where affection was rationed and decisions were made one-sidedly.
The emperor had decreed his distance, and Micah had been left in silence.
The reason... Micah didn’t even want to know or have the energy to find out.
Clyde’s hand twitched. His fingers hovered above the bruise on Micah’s cheek, desperate to touch, to soothe. But at the last moment, he curled his fingers into a fist, withdrawing. The boy was too quiet now. After his earlier outburst, he had completely shut himself down.
The silence pressed heavily in the car until they arrived at the hospital. Clyde was out first, lifting Micah into a wheelchair with gentleness that contradicted his stormy expression. He pushed him toward the emergency room. After explaining the situation, the medical team moved quickly, checking vitals, running blood tests, and preparing X-rays.
Darcy and Emile arrived shortly after, both pausing at the sight of Clyde pacing with his arms crossed, his face stoic.
Emile looked at his uncle. It was evident he was holding back.
Darcy’s eyes were instead on Micah as he was wheeled back out of the examination room. The boy’s hazel eyes seemed lifeless and vacant.
After one hour, the result came out. Micah had two broken ribs. Fortunately, there was no pulmonary edema or hematoma. The doctors prescribed painkillers and advised strict rest.
Emile stepped forward hesitantly, pulling something from his pocket. Micah’s glasses. He held them out awkwardly. "Here, you left them at the bar."
Micah accepted them without meeting his gaze. "Thanks," he slipped them on, blinking as the blurry world regained focus.
Clyde also fished Micah’s phone from his pocket and held it out. "This too."
But Micah didn’t reach for it.
The silence stretched. Clyde’s hand lowered, his shoulders sinking. He put the phone gently on the nightstand table.
Darcy tried to address the elephant in the room. "Now...Do you want to tell us what happened?"
Micah pursed his lips. "I accidentally collided with a man. Spilled his drink on his shirt. I had no money, and I was intoxicated. You can fill in the rest." his tone flat.
The explanation was simple, totally random.
No one commented on that. They all knew Micah and how short-tempered he was.
But his next words chilled the air. "Except Darcy, I don’t need anyone else staying here," he said coldly.
Clyde didn’t argue, but his expression on his face fell, subtle and devastating. Instead, he reached out and pulled out two embroidered pouches, the ones that the master had given him. He set them carefully on the table. "I got these from a temple. One is for you and the other for Darcy." Clyde said quietly and turned around. He walked toward the door.
Emile lingered, glancing between Micah and his uncle, torn and uncertain. He didn’t know what to say. In the end, he decided not to meddle. "Take care," he said and followed Clyde out.
The room fell into silence again. Only Micah and Darcy remained, the two embroidered black and white pouches resting between them on the table.