Chapter 1: The Berkshire Family Became Her Lifeline Part 7

“Young master, I can do simple treatment, but I’m not a specialist. We should really call a doctor—”

“No. You do it,” he said curtly.

“But if a scar remains later—”

His cold, downward gaze silenced her immediately.

If she brought it up one more time, she felt he might send her away without letting her treat him at all.

“It’s going to hurt a little… no, a lot,” she warned, anticipating severe pain.

When he gave a slight nod, Marien poured the alcohol over the wound, watching his reaction carefully.

Tamilan clenched his teeth so hard that a faint cracking sound escaped. Veins bulged along his jaw and neck from the agony, but he didn’t utter a single groan.

“I’m sorry. I should have poured it more slowly…,” she murmured apologetically.

Only after she finished disinfecting the wound did Tamilan finally exhale roughly, the remnants of searing pain still pulsing through him.

Seeing his expression, Marien looked down guiltily, then gently wiped the sweat from his forehead with her sleeve.

“…….”

Amid the sharp scent of blood, a subtle, warm fragrance brushed against his nose.

The sensation of her sleeve brushing against his skin made Tamilan reflexively grab her wrist.

“That’s enough,” he said, his voice low.

“Ah… yes. Then please wait a moment,” she replied, opening the box and busily rummaging through it.

Watching her fuss over the supplies, Tamilan’s face twisted with a complex mix of emotions.

What exactly was this maid, to keep stirring up such confusing feelings within him?

From the wooden box Marien brought, all sorts of supplies spilled out. She pulled out ointment and a roll of clean cloth, then began to systematically tend to his wound.

“Use this to cut it,” Tamilan said, handing her his dagger.

He had noticed her struggling to cut the cloth with her dull scissors.

“Ah, thank you,” she said, gratefully accepting the dagger.

Tamilan watched as the cloth was cleanly sliced by his blade, his thoughts wandering.

He had gone out hunting over the past few days.

Partly it was to avoid crossing paths with this maid, Marien Reed, and partly because wolves had been reported near the village.

There shouldn’t be wolves in Berkshire.

Normally, they were seen only at the king’s royal hunts, but Haint had reported sightings of large wolves near the village.

As Haint had said, these wolves were bigger than those Tamilan had seen at the hunts. On the first day of the hunt, he had swiftly dealt with all the wolves that had descended near the village.

For the next few days, there were no sightings, but today, just as he was about to hunt a deer, they had ambushed him.

Among the pack was their alpha. While Tamilan was busy cutting down several wolves, the alpha had lunged at his arm and bitten deep.

Though he had killed the creature in retaliation, the damage to his arm was already done, and there was another concern:

There were usually two alphas in a pack. The remaining one wouldn’t stay quiet.

In the coming days…

As Tamilan pondered how to deal with the wolves, his arm was now securely wrapped in clean cloth.

A woman with delicate hands was tending his wound, her fingers deftly wrapping the bandage.

How small and frail she seemed—as if he could hold her waist in one hand. The residual warmth of her skin from when he had helped her up still lingered on his palm.

The girl, who had yet to shed her youthful air, was concentrating so intently on her task that beads of sweat formed on her forehead.

He wasn’t sure why she was going to such lengths, but he was grateful nonetheless.

Tamilan reached out and brushed the sweat from Marien’s forehead with his thumb, and she looked up at him with wide eyes.

He had simply returned the gesture—just as she had wiped his sweat. Yet her startled expression was almost comical, like a rabbit caught off guard.

“Um… I’ve finished the treatment, but I really think you should see a doctor. The wound might worsen,” she said hesitantly.

“All right. You did well,” he replied, rising to his feet and putting his coat back on. His steps were steady and straight, not at all like someone who was injured, as he headed toward the training grounds.

Marien watched his retreating figure, her hand pressed against her chest. Her heart was racing uncontrollably.

“…….”

She lifted her hand to her forehead—the very spot where his rough thumb had touched.

At first, it had startled her; then it had felt good. But eventually, she had wanted it to stop. The longer it lingered, the more anxious and unsure she had felt, a strange and unfamiliar sensation.

It felt almost dreamlike, as if it wasn’t quite real. Marien lightly slapped her cheeks to snap herself out of it.

“Ah…”

As she began to pack her tools back into the wooden box, her gaze fell on a black-sheathed dagger.

It was Tamilan’s dagger, the one she had used to cut the cloth.

He seemed to treasure it…

But by the time she noticed, he had already disappeared from her sight.

Knowing he had headed toward the training grounds, Marien gathered her things and stood up.

Since there were no other servants around, she decided to bring the dagger to him.

It was her first time passing by the entrance of the training grounds.

As she approached, three of Berkshire’s knights were just leaving.

Though she had seen them from a distance before, this was the first time Marien had seen them up close.

They were tall, broad-shouldered, and fully armored, appearing quite intimidating.

As she drew closer, intending to ask the knights about Tamilan’s whereabouts, their gazes snapped toward her all at once.

It wasn’t just a glance—it was as if their stares struck her like arrows. The overwhelming pressure of their collective presence made Marien shrink back instinctively.

One knight was intimidating enough, but several of them together exuded a suffocating aura.

She recalled how her body had stiffened under Tamilan’s piercing gaze, and this was far beyond that. The air around them was thick with an oppressive weight that made her feel small and exposed.

When one of the knights strode toward her with long, purposeful steps, Marien’s heart jolted, and she instinctively stepped back.

Unbidden, a memory of the men from Middelheim’s village flashed through her mind—three men approaching her at the secluded cottage.

The images of those men, their shadows looming, overlaid the sight of the knights, and fear filled her wide eyes.

Panic surged within her, and she stumbled backward, desperately trying to escape.

She couldn’t even manage to ask her question before retreating like a frightened deer.

Once she had fled far enough away, she fumbled in her clothing and pulled out the dagger she had taken.

What do I do? Tamilan really hates it when others touch his belongings…

Marien stood in place, anxiously shifting her weight from foot to foot, then glanced back.

“…….”

She couldn’t bring herself to return to the training grounds. With a heavy sigh, she resigned herself.

Surely he would realize he had lost it and come to the laundry yard tomorrow. He always showed up there anyway.

It would be fine if she kept it for just one day.

With that flimsy rationalization, Marien hurried away, her steps quick and light as she left the area.

***

“What was that just now?”

“What else? The prettiest—no, the most beautiful maid I’ve ever seen just passed by.”

“…….”

The knights, who had seemed so intimidating to Marien, each wore a different expression as they stared after her retreating figure.

“Wow…! Was there ever a maid like her? I’ve never seen her before. How could we not have noticed until now?”

“She must be new. Makes your mouth water, doesn’t it?”

Louis clicked his tongue in mild annoyance while Max shrugged.

“But didn’t it look like she was running away from us?”

“Maybe not ‘us,’ but you. She looked terrified, probably because you did something again. Just imagine how scary it must’ve been for her when you approached!”

Louis teased, and Hesil, with a serious face, began to scold Max.

“Get a grip. You know we’re not supposed to mess with the maids. Stop being so creepy…”

“Quit nagging, Hesil. Do you think I’m Fabian or something?”

Hesil, who was about to list off the Berkshire rules, scowled as Max cut him off.

He distinctly remembered Max handing a rose to a maid named Sarah a few days ago, with a nauseatingly sweet line. He had seen it with his own eyes, yet Max was now feigning innocence.

“So you were bothering that Sarah girl, huh?”

“I wasn’t bothering anyone! I was just showing my chivalry and courtly manners, that’s all,” Max replied nonchalantly.

At that moment, Tamilan, who had entered the training grounds earlier to meet with the captain of the knights, came back out.

Hearing the mention of a maid, he couldn’t help but interject.

“Who were you bothering?”

Max froze rigidly and shot Hesil a warning glare.

“Uh… There was no one we were bothering, my lord,” Louis quickly interjected, glancing furtively at Max as Hesil smirked.

“What do you mean, no one? You… Ugh…”

Hesil was about to spill the truth when Max clamped a hand over his mouth.

Hesil narrowed his eyes, clearly ready to spill Max’s unsavory behavior. But before he could speak, Max quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Speak. Don’t try to hide it,” Tamilan commanded with a flick of his hand, gesturing for them to approach.

Max’s face paled visibly.

Though the Berkshire estate’s knights were under the nominal authority of Lord Ruston, it was Tamilan who actually commanded them.

Traditionally, the knight corps was exclusively the prerogative of the family’s head, passed down to the heir only after he had thoroughly mastered every duty. However, Lord Ruston had increasingly focused on expanding the family’s businesses, leaving the knight corps to his younger half-brother.

At first, Ruston had merely delegated some tasks to Tamilan, but now he had practically relinquished his grip altogether. This departure from the family’s martial tradition was significant.

Yet, none of the knights harbored resentment over serving the young lord.

Tamilan was the epitome of Berkshire’s martial lineage, his swordsmanship soaring to new heights from a young age. Today, his prowess rivaled that of the captain of the knight corps.

In this house where strength was paramount, no knight surpassed him. Following his lead was considered an honor.

Moreover, since Tamilan’s leadership, the knight corps’ condition had improved dramatically. If Ruston were to reclaim command, the knights would likely be less than thrilled.

Despite their appreciation of his management, Tamilan’s exacting nature was well-known. He had no tolerance for rule-breaking or even hints of it. His discipline was as sharp as his sword, and under his authority, the Berkshire knight corps maintained an ironclad order.

Hence, Max, too, was acutely aware of Tamilan’s scrutiny.

The young lord’s pale and fatigued expression suggested that if Max fell afoul of him today, the penalty might come under the pretense of sparring—enough to leave him bruised and battered.

Depending on Tamilan’s mood, it could be a light reprimand or a severe thrashing.

Deciding that if he was going to take a beating anyway, he might as well defend himself and hopefully lessen the punishment, Max resolved to air his side of the story.

“I was wrongly accused. I just gave a rose to a maid I liked and asked her on a date once.”

“……”

“She didn’t respond, but she did take the rose. It was courtship. It’s definitely not the same as pestering. This is slander.”

As Max asserted his innocence, Hesil, who had been listening quietly nearby, snorted.

Sarah’s expression, which had looked far from pleased, made it clear that in his view, it was indeed pestering.

“Maid. Who.”

Tamilan’s face hardened coldly, and Max, realizing this wasn’t going well, lowered his tail slightly.

“Well, that pretty maid, you know. She’s so aware of her own beauty that she won’t even spare a glance…”

“Just give me the name.”