* * *

McClart had always been a man of his word. The difference now was that, while his promises had once been about unpleasant things, they were now about good things.

Good things.

Vienny stared up at the unusually clear sky, turning the words over in her mind.

“Good things.”

Objectively, that was an accurate description of her current life.

She had plentiful meals, a comfortable bed, regular medical care, and daily walks. Whatever threats McClart had issued, no one in Rave Castle treated her poorly. In fact, it was more like they treated her as if she didn’t exist.

No one bothered or paid her any attention, making her days smooth and aiding her recovery. Her splint had even been removed earlier than expected.

Vienny had always recovered quickly, and now, in a setting that supported her healing, her strength was returning faster than ever. McClart seemed aware of her progress; his touches had grown bolder. What used to stop at a kiss sometimes now lingered in light caresses.

From this, it was clear that McClart still wanted her to share his bed—or at the very least, that it was one of the things he desired from her.

“Are you really all right with this?” he asked.

“…I thought I’d proven my abilities well enough by now.”

Ever since Moiria had mentioned that Vienny no longer needed the splint, McClart had voiced his concerns. Even now, watching her walk outside on her own, he still seemed unconvinced.

Moiria, who had been brought along in case any immediate treatment was needed, seemed thoroughly tired of repeating the same “she’s fine” countless times like a parrot.

“Should I join you for the walk as well?” she asked in a notably sarcastic tone.

McClart shot her an irritated glare, clicked his tongue, and waved her off dismissively. Moiria, as if expecting this, quickly bowed and walked away without a second thought.

“If you can’t walk, say it immediately,” he instructed.

“Yes,” Vienny replied.

She hadn’t been so aware of it when she was using the crutches, but now that she was walking on her own, she was even more aware of her uneven gait. She wanted to walk as naturally as possible, but she couldn’t ignore the slight tilt in her body with each step.

McClart, with his long legs, usually took wide strides at a brisk pace. But now he walked slowly, staying half a step behind Vienny to match her pace. She couldn’t tell if he realized that this only added to her discomfort.

In truth, anything McClart did around her felt awkward and unsettling. Vienny fidgeted with the front of her cloak and kept her gaze lowered.

Her steps slowed even more, her awareness heightened by his presence just behind her, yet McClart didn’t urge her to speed up.

The path had become familiar over the past few days, and as they turned onto the garden path, the scenery was even more recognisable. It was a modest garden behind the castle, but without a gardener, the overgrown grass made it look more like a forest path than a proper garden.

Vienny, accustomed to wandering through forests, found this natural, untamed feel much more to her liking. It suited her well as a peaceful walking path.

“Huh?”

As she walked along, Vienny suddenly stopped, noticing something new on the path. It definitely hadn’t been there yesterday.

“If you’re tired, go sit down.”

It was a bench—or something resembling one. It looked hastily placed, standing awkwardly among the overgrown, disorganized plants. Sitting there wouldn’t offer much of a view, only tall weeds and randomly sprouting shrubs.

They’d only just started down the garden path and she hadn’t walked far enough to need a break. Moiria had insisted that, despite Vienny’s rapid recovery, she needed to rebuild her stamina and walking was to be part of that exercise..

It was a reasonable walk through the small castle garden, something Moiria had assured her she could manage. But McClart didn’t seem to trust her recovery, and it seemed he’d had this bench brought in just in case.

Why couldn’t he trust the doctor he’d personally selected and brought in, offering a generous salary? Vienny had long since given up trying to make sense of McClart’s perplexing behavior.

She was already drained from trying to keep her guard up, unwilling to let herself grow too accustomed to this uncertain kindness that filled her aimless days.

Obediently, Vienny walked over and sat on the bench, placing her hands on her thighs and fidgeting. McClart, rather than sitting beside her, stood a little distance away, silently watching.

By now, she had grown thick-skinned enough to mostly ignore his steady gaze. She let her eyes wander around the unkempt garden, which offered little to catch her interest.

Her gaze drifted indifferently until it settled on a small, black creature perched on a nearby branch. Her eyes widened.

It was a squirrel. Having spent so much time in the past trying to find small animals just to survive, Vienny felt a surprising wave of nostalgia and warmth at the sight.

The squirrel stayed still for a moment, then slowly climbed down the tree trunk. It seemed instinctively drawn to Vienny, inching closer to her feet.

Without thinking, she extended her hand downward, and the squirrel began to scamper toward her. But just as it got close, blue flames erupted in front of her, consuming the squirrel in an instant. Vienny’s face went pale as she watched the creature vanish in a flash of fire.

“Ah…”

Before she could straighten up, her dangling arm was suddenly yanked upward, sending a sharp sting through her arm.

But she barely had time to register the pain before a furious voice fell over her like a hailstorm.

“Did you intend to feed that creature your blood? What were you thinking? What did you hope to accomplish by bonding with it?”

Stunned by his intense accusations, Vienny stammered, trying to explain.

“It… it was just a habit!”

“A habit?”

His tone was filled with disbelief, making Vienny nod desperately. She wasn’t lying; it really was the truth.

“Small animals like that don’t need much blood, so I used them to keep an eye on my surroundings…”

Vienny’s voice trailed off as she saw McClart’s expression remain cold and unyielding. She realized too late that mentioning how she used small animals to monitor her surroundings only implied she’d been trying to stay hidden from him.

Unable to continue, she pressed her lips together tightly. The more she explained, the clearer it became just how much effort she had put into avoiding him.

Resigned, she stood silently, waiting to see what he might do. Finally, after a long pause, he spoke again, his tone slightly softer.

“You weren’t planning to escape?”

“No, I wasn’t.”

Running away was pointless. At least for now, attempting to escape without any real plan would only lead to more needless suffering.

Ironically, the safest place for Vienny right now was here. She realized how easily McClart could have misunderstood her actions. Avoiding his gaze, she slowly lowered her eyes and spoke softly.

“…I’m sorry.”

McClart let go of her arm, running a weary hand through his hair.

“If you weren’t planning to escape, then why…? Do you not even feel pain?”

Though he’d let go of the idea that she was attempting to escape, he seemed to latch onto another misconception—that she was “recklessly running away because she was numb to pain.”

Vienny frowned, shaking her head firmly to deny his assumption.

“Just because I’ve been hurt a lot doesn’t mean I become numb to the pain. I do feel it.”

McClart looked at her, his expression unreadable. Vienny averted her gaze slightly, speaking in an indifferent tone.

“I’ve spent my whole life feeling pain, so it just doesn’t seem like a big deal anymore.”

From a young age, she had bonded with animals, a process that naturally came with different forms of pain. Some animals only required a few drops of blood, while others demanded sacrifices as severe as an arm or leg. And ever since Chiron had captured her, she had endured all kinds of torture.

Though none of it had been intended to kill her, it had certainly been painful.

Her life had been filled with suffering, so the idea of a small squirrel’s bite felt insignificant in comparison.

A silence settled between them. Vienny felt uncomfortable, as if her unnecessary words had only made things more awkward. Feeling like she was sitting on pins and needles, she started to stand, but before she could, McClart spoke in his usual cold tone.

“The days you have left will be longer than those you’ve already lived, and there won’t be any new scars in them. I won’t allow it.”

His face, as always, was expressionless. Vienny looked at him, momentarily dazed, before blinking awkwardly and lowering her gaze.

He likely only meant he wouldn’t let her bond with animals again. But for some reason, it felt like he was saying something else—almost as if he didn’t want her to be hurt anymore.

To put it in a rather sentimental way, it sounded as though he wanted to protect her. She couldn’t help but interpret it that way, though it wasn’t entirely her fault.

It was because of McClart’s overwhelming kindness—so generous and undeserved for someone like her—that Vienny found herself at a loss for how to respond. She had never received kindness in this way, and she struggled to place McClart’s intentions within her understanding of the world.

If she had to compare his actions to someone from her past, the closest example would be Gentian.

Gentian…

‘…Come to think of it, what happened to Gentian?’

Vienny was startled at her own oversight; only now was she considering his fate. Though she had fled from him, the last time she saw him, he had been fighting with McClart—there must have been some outcome to that encounter.

Should she ask McClart about Gentian now?

As she thought about it, Vienny looked at McClart. But the moment their eyes met, she swallowed her question. Those blue eyes immediately reminded her of the flames that had erupted in front of her, burning a small squirrel just because he feared she might escape. To ask about Gentian now seemed absurd, even to her.

“You’ve seen how I walk. There’s no need to be so cautious; I can’t run away.”

McClart narrowed his eyes, his expression darkening. After a pause, looking displeased, he suddenly knelt down on one knee in front of her.