This time, Yuan’s face turned red.

If he doesn’t lose his memory, he’ll realize that there is nothing between them but pain.

Yuan agreed with Ranslet’s words that Claude wasn’t such a bad person, but revealing his ability was a separate issue.

“That’s beyond my ability. But…”

Again, he couldn’t help but lie.

With a little sincerity.

“It might be better not to have memories.”

But one word seemed to touch something in Claude. Her face became even paler than before.
However, whether this remark touched something in Claude, his face became even paler than before.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

“Yes, they shared the bed last night.”

A bitter laugh escaped involuntarily.

Claude, facing a bewildered servant in front of the repeated questions from the owner, laughed mockingly. The chilly smile was permeated with a thick contempt for herself.

“Since the mistress nursed him all night, it’s considered natural.”

“Natural?”

The comforting words to disturb Claude’s mind became poison instead, not to dishevel her composure.

Claude, amidst the tightly bandaged bandages covering her side, shoulder, and thigh where blood oozed out, for the first time agreed with the opinion of her father, who called himself a ‘beastly guy.’

Despite experiencing the pain that tears through the flesh and penetrates the body, they still shared the bed.

And perhaps the reason for that cohabitation is the same as… the reason why the pain from last night may not be remembered.

‘To forget the pain and sleep comfortably.’

Claude nervously looked at Gustaf, who was hesitating whether to disturb her golden hair or leave it and go out in front of the owner. As he approached discreetly, Claude lowered her voice.

“Why do only women seem to suffer so much from sharing a bed?”

According to the voices of chatty maids and the reports of butler Gustaf, it was said that in the bedroom, sounds as if enduring pain were always heard.

She knew the reason, but still, isn’t it a bit too much every time?

“Um, you two may not be a good match or…”

Claude raised one eyebrow.

“The man might be a bit… inconsiderate…”

The opposite eyebrow twitched.

“Both… might be dying…”

Claude stared at the butler, who only added anxiety instead of help.

With a slightly unfair expression, Gustaf left his final advice.

“Since Your Highness is not feeling well, it would be better to refrain. I’ve seen several lords die as a result of complications. The same goes for ladies. If the body can’t handle it…”

Thunk.

“Please take good care of the mistress, even during the day…”

Leaving only what he had to say, Gustaf closed the door with a soft sound and disappeared.

Claude wrapped her head with her pale face.

⭐️⭐️⭐️

“Not eating.”

Pushing away more than usual, Yuan, thinking of the soup he had prepared in advance, did not retreat and placed the meal on the table.

“Stop that and eat. I made it myself today.”

At the mention of being made personally, Claude’s forehead wrinkled slightly.

Whatever it was that she didn’t like, after being injured, Claude always had a face full of complaints.

‘Maybe hating it a bit more than an ice bath might be better.’

That was indeed the case.

The constant stream of words from Claude to go away or shut up decreased significantly. Instead, she sometimes looked at her with an unexplainable expression. And strangely, very strangely, there were moments when she begged in a very subtle way.
“If you don’t like it, I’ll take it out again.”

Yuan couldn’t particularly refuse when Yu An personally did something.

Without showing any liking or welcoming expression.

Yuan supported Claude, who was slowly getting up as if pretending to be unable to resist.

Even this time, he neither completely relied on nor forcefully pushed her away.

With a long and large body, Yuan thought it might be a bit cumbersome, but seeing her trying to at least pretend to eat, he found her somewhat cute.

“Why are you smiling?”

“…….?”

“Why are you smiling?”

“…Because you’re cute.”

An expression of disbelief appeared on his face at her answer, which crept in.

“How old are you?”

A trivial question, but he was tongue-tied.

Has he ever asked such a personal question like this? Is it out of politeness? Out of boredom?

Whether she knew or not about Yuan’s confused mind.

Claude lowered her head and started eating the soup.

Until she emptied half of the bowl, Yuan watched her with a feeling of his heart becoming a balloon floating gently.

“How old are you, kid.”

Finally, Claude, who neatly emptied the soup, raised her chin.

Although elegant, there was a very slight trace of soup on her lips.

Yuan chuckled and wiped her mouth.

Claude’s eyebrows twitched once.

“I ate enough.”

“Sixteen? Seventeen?”

Just as he said this, his face turned sour, making it obvious where his thoughts were leading.

“If you’ve finished eating, let’s take a walk. The walking path is cleared of snow.”

“How old are you.”

Claude insisted stubbornly, as if she had to confirm with a blue face.

“Over twenty?”

“I’ll tell you if we walk together.”

For a moment, Claude’s orphaned half-white cheek turned red.

Yuan quickly realized that it wasn’t because she was embarrassed, but rather due to anger.

A voice, tightly sealed between stubborn lips, came out empty.

“Dare you, propose a deal?”