The Unveiling of Secret Queen

Chapter 787: Come here, I’ll blow-dry your hair_1

Nathalie Quinlan propped her leg onto the table, the sleek line of her straight calf smooth and symmetrical. Her lazy hands held the phone, her fingers tapping on the keyboard to reply to messages.

[NQ: Wait for me ten minutes.]

After replying to Amadeus Yancey’s message, Nathalie Quinlan didn’t delay, put down her leg, and with a lifted glance saw the laptop sitting there.

She hesitated for a moment, then opened it.

The laptop had been on all night but hadn’t been used, she lit up the screen, which still showed Twitter’s homepage from yesterday.

Nathalie refreshed the page, popping up 99+ "mention" notifications and 99+ comment notifications.

Squinting slightly, her dark pupils beautifully so, she didn’t click on any of them, just scrolled down with the mouse to see the tweet she had retweeted below.

The tweet was still there.

After a day and a night’s worth of heat fermentation.

It now showed that the retweet count had surpassed one hundred thousand, with comments even more than double that amount.

Nathalie scanned the Hot Search List, discovering it was exceptionally exciting, with plenty of hot search topics about Audrick Zachmann’s fight.

Even more were condemning Wayne Baker.

She closed the laptop, tapped it shut, and turned to walk toward the bathroom...

After a night without sleep, the nerves at the back of Nathalie’s head were tightly wound, her temples throbbing incessantly. She turned the shower on, the water temperature set very low.

The tepidly cool water cascaded over her, finally clearing her mind somewhat.

Less than ten minutes later, she shut off the water, casually grabbed a bathrobe hanging nearby, draped it over herself, and, with her hair still drenched and clinging to her shoulders, walked over to the door and pulled it open.

As expected, a man stood outside. Nathalie lowered her eyelashes, her expression indifferently making way as she walked inside.

"Come in."

"..." Amadeus didn’t expect her to have just finished showering, and for a split second, he was taken aback at the sight of a girl, her hair draped and wrapped in a bathrobe, opening the door for him. However, he soon regained his composure, and as he entered, he closed the door behind him.

Upon entering, he saw crumpled papers scattered on the floor, and on the desk lay a piece of 4A paper with a black water-based pen on it, the cap not even put back on...

He arched an eyebrow, leaning by the desk, his posture erect and slender, his eyes deep and noble: "Did you stay up all night?"

"More or less."

Nathalie didn’t mind him, went to the fridge to grab a bottle of water, twisted off the cap, took a sip, then walked back, casually placing the capped bottle on the desk. She slightly lifted her sharp chin, telling him, "I’ve written Master Cadmus’s prescription, it’s right there. You can take it to Brian Bonette later."

Without her mentioning, Amadeus had already seen the contents on the 4A paper.

Nathalie’s handwriting was wild and sloppy but written with great care, including not just the dosage of the herbs but also the adjustments for each stage of treatment.

It was obvious that she took everything about Master Cadmus into consideration when writing the prescription.

Amadeus walked over, picked up the towel she’d thrown on the chair, and suddenly said, "Come here, I’ll help you dry your hair."

Just as Nathalie put the water down, she looked at him in surprise, hesitated, and instinctively refused, "No need, I can..."

Before she could finish, the man assertively pushed her down onto the sofa, his magnetic voice low and husky, "It’s hard for you, let me do it."

As he spoke, his fingers slid through the ends of her hair, seemingly skilled at drying the droplets from her hair.

Nathalie: "..."

His movements were gentle, without any inappropriate gestures, and as his fingers worked through the ends of her hair, he also helped to arrange her short strands. Nathalie initially sat ramrod straight with a hint of resistance to this act, but quickly relaxed, her eyes half-closed, somewhat tired.