An invisible tension of war hung thick like fog.

The urgency transmitted through all five senses naturally put one on edge.

This was a perilous land where it wouldn’t be surprising if enemy troops invaded tomorrow. It was amazing that people could even eat and sleep in such a place.

She wondered if Aaron also felt this fear that prevented one from enjoying everyday life. Perhaps as the commander who controlled the fate of their forces, he couldn’t show it.

No matter how accustomed to battle he might be, it would be too sad if his humanity had faded.

Though Lucilia had been assigned the task of understanding the enemy’s intentions, she wanted more to be a comforter to her husband.

There was General Neil, Duke Floi, and the commanders of the knight orders from participating territories.

But to Lucilia, it seemed as if Aaron had shouldered all the heavy responsibilities.

Even she, ignorant in these matters, knew well of Aaron’s unrivaled achievements.

Whether defending the territory, protecting the capital, or commanding the Third Allied Forces—he had faithfully fulfilled his duties, more perfectly than anyone else.

He was exceptional enough to be called an all-weather warrior.

While defending the capital and commanding the Third Allied Forces were temporary positions in emergencies, they required both experience and skill.

In this war too, he had been assigned to command the Third Allied Forces.

How busy must he be? How much pressure must he endure?

Coming to the battlefield, she understood Aaron’s hardships a little better.

A warm glance? A kind word?

If he wouldn’t give them, she could when the opportunity arose.

Setting aside all personal wishes, it was time to carefully observe Aaron’s emotions.

She also planned to restrain herself from following Aaron around when he was too busy—like waiting to eat meals together or staying awake until he returned.

Nothing was more annoying than someone hovering around.

Of course, she had no intention of burdening the soldiers either.

So despite her embarrassment, she went to get her own meals. Everyone who spotted her was startled as if they’d stepped on a snake, but they would have to get used to it.

After briefly feeling guilty about making others uncomfortable, she ate alone inside the tent.

This too was to avoid loitering in front of the soldiers.

Others might think she was living luxuriously, but for her, these were unfamiliar tasks that required courage.

After eating, she fetched water to wash herself. One soldier was alarmed and tried to stop her, but she rolled up her sleeves and boasted that she could manage.

Looking back at her actions, she was surprised at where such smooth behavior had come from.

By the time her daily routine was nearly complete, she had also filled a basin with water for Aaron to wash.

Afterward, she immersed herself in a long period of prayer.

Lucilia knelt on a blanket spread on the ground.

Everyone claimed that God no longer dwelled beside a forsaken saint, but she could feel His presence more vividly than anyone.

How could she deny the existence that had chosen a young girl and led her this far?

Occasionally she expressed frustration at her holy power that seemed useless for greater purposes, but she believed this too was part of God’s plan.

She only hoped that plan would be properly fulfilled this time.

* * *

The sound of hoofbeats shaking the earth grew deafeningly loud.

Her limbs stiffened and her blood ran cold at the murderous intent that surged like a rising tide.

Lucilia’s face turned pale with terror.

“Ah! Please spare me.”

Her pronunciation was muffled as if she were gagged, the words swallowed inward.

Her body, thrown to the dirt ground, burst and tore in various places, blood streaming out.

The disgusting smell of blood made her nauseous, and her eyeballs felt hot.

The tears that gathered at the corners of her eyes before wetting her temples as they fell were truly sorrowful. They carried the most honest human emotions, making her acutely aware of her pitiful situation.

As tears welled up again from the sadness of self-pity, she felt a hand stroking her hair.

‘Who could it be…’

‘I’m all alone now, who is comforting me so warmly?’

She applied pressure to her hot eyelids and opened her eyes.

“Sir Artnal?”

Not realizing she had used the title from her days as a saint, Lucilia confirmed his presence with a feverish voice.

“It is Sir Artnal, isn’t it?”

“I seem to have woken you.”

As she struggled to escape her dreamlike state, Aaron looked at her with a more relaxed expression.

He gazed tenderly at her moist cheeks before lowering his head.

Though he didn’t kiss her, the breath flowing from him was close enough to reach her.

The warmth seeping into her skin and the vibration tickling her fine hair.

Her hazy consciousness gradually became clearer.

Realizing she had woken from sleep, Lucilia asked in a husky voice.

“…Did I have another nightmare?”

“Well, you were in the middle of one, I think? I was watching over you, concerned you might suffer if left alone.”

She must have been making groaning sounds.

Despite her efforts to handle everything herself, she had ended up disturbing Aaron’s sleep.

How long had he been by her side?

Had he woken up after hearing her sleep-talking?

For someone who needed quality sleep more than anyone…

Lucilia focused her still-blurry vision on Aaron.

Setting aside her guilt, the comfort she felt was incredibly satisfying.

Whether because she wasn’t fully awake or because she craved human contact, her hand moved unconsciously.

Lucilia caught his hand as it carefully stroked from her forehead to the crown of her head.

Aaron’s hand flinched at the sudden contact.

His seemingly flustered movement was endearing.

Everyone would be shocked to hear that she found Aaron Artnal—with his mountain-like build and armed with ferocious combat skills—cute.

So grateful and happy that he had lowered his guard, Lucilia pressed her lips against his calloused palm.

Perhaps because she was still half-asleep, her languid body matched her dreamy mood.

“Around this late hour is when the baron becomes most gentle.”

“…”

“It’s alright to pity me. I desperately need someone like that.”

She wanted to convey her sincere feelings, at least during this time when Aaron wasn’t avoiding her.

Discovering his agitation was also a small pleasure.

She wanted to stimulate him more, to draw out more of his attention.

It was also a time when her desires grew.

Knowing he wouldn’t roughly withdraw his hand, Lucilia chattered about her day.

She told him how the soldiers’ cooking skills were excellent though she had expected them to be crude, how she had fetched water from the stream herself, and assured him not to worry since she had brought escorts.

Then her consciousness drifted off again.

After tucking Lucilia’s small hand under the blanket, Aaron rose.

Looking down at his uncomfortably tense lower body, he cursed under his breath.

“D*mn it… I shouldn’t have brought her. I shouldn’t have fallen for her sweet talk.”

Her sorrowful eyes had become his weakness.

Though he could only look at her from the corner of his eye, the impact was tremendous.

She easily crumbled the composure he had built over a lifetime and pierced a hole in a stone wall so solid that not even a needle could penetrate it.

She rendered his resolute mindset and strict standards useless.

He felt like adding another layer to the partition if only it could block her every movement.

To prevent her from looking at him with those wistful eyes again.

Aaron crushed Lucilia’s innocent silver-white hair between his index finger and thumb.

* * *

Mountain birds fluttered about, chirping clearly. Their lively songs welcomed a pleasant morning.

A warm smile spread across Lucilia’s face as she lifted her eyelids.

“Mmm, I slept well.”

“Have your meal.”

“Oh my!”

Having risen at the crack of dawn, Aaron was already standing at the foot of her bed, fully dressed in his knight’s attire.

He looked so different from her, still intoxicated with sleep.

Lucilia jumped up and gathered her disheveled hair to one side, letting it fall below her shoulder.

Though her unskilled efforts wouldn’t make it neat immediately, she couldn’t appear lazy either.

As she was about to insert her bare feet into her boots, Aaron turned his back.

“Sleep more.”

“Wait a moment.”

“What is it?”

“Well… I need your permission for something.”

The soldiers had entered a state of emergency, and the people dispatched from the temple would be preparing the infirmary and chapel.

She felt uncomfortable just sitting idle, so she wanted to do something.

“I’d like to find something I can do. Help with meal preparation or assist at the infirmary—I’m sure there are plenty of options if I look.”

“Who knows how far the temple’s influence extends. I cannot allow it, so don’t leave the designated area.”

She had anticipated that the priests might have been working behind the scenes.

She just couldn’t decide whether it was better to stay quietly huddled in the tent or to do something.

Evidently, to Aaron, her going outside and being active seemed like an unpredictable situation.