Chapter 35

“Did you really worry about me, Sir?”

Daphne asked quietly, still with her eyes closed.

“I thought you’d just be glad to see me annoyed and bothered all the time.”

“…What do you take me for?”

Ryan clicked his tongue. The sulky tone in his voice made Daphne burst into a gentle laugh.

“Sorry, sorry. I was joking. You’re being so kind all of a sudden, it made me feel awkward…”

Daphne confessed her feelings and slowly opened her eyes. Thanks to the half-open door, the room wasn’t completely dark.

Ryan’s face appeared in the dim light.

His straight forehead, prominent brow bone, the hollow beneath his eyes, and his long, sharp nose. With his lips pressed together, he looked stubborn, serious, and somewhat imposing.

Yet Daphne didn’t feel intimidated. As she met Ryan’s gaze, she could sense it. Those blue eyes looking down at her were actually filled with gentle warmth.

“Somehow, this feels strange.”

Daphne whispered softly as she looked up at Ryan.

“It’s been a long time since someone cared for me like this.”

“But Miss Sinclair, you’ve always had Marianne by your side.”

“Yes, Marianne is there. She’s always there, but…”

Daphne breathed in and out slowly.

Where should she start, and how should she explain?

After her parents suddenly passed away, all her attention turned to her younger sister, Lily.

With Lily’s frail health and constant illnesses, Daphne never had time to care for herself.

She was much more used to taking care of others than being cared for.

And she’d accepted that as perfectly normal.

Of course, it was the same for Marianne, who stayed by their side.

Daphne pulled Ryan’s hand down from her forehead and pressed her cheek into his palm, closing her eyes.

“Your hand feels really nice.”

“……”

“It’s big and cool, and it clears my mind.”

Without realizing it, Daphne purred softly like a lazy cat, enjoying the feeling. She had no idea what kind of expression Ryan was making as he gently stroked her face.

“Miss Sinclair, I—”

“Daphne.”

“Sorry?”

“Don’t call me Miss Sinclair. Just call me Daphne.”

Ryan was about to say something in a restrained voice, but Daphne interrupted, correcting him.

“Miss Sinclair and Sir Clips sound so formal and distant. We’ll be living together in this house for a while anyway.”

Whether it was a month, three months, or half a year.

“So let’s not be so formal from now on. Let’s call each other by our names. You call me Daphne, and I’ll call you Ryan.”

“……”

“You’ll agree, right, Ryan?”

“……”

“Ryan?”

No matter how long she waited, Ryan didn’t answer, so Daphne opened her eyes and looked up.

“……”

Ryan was as stiff as a log. His face, too, was frozen like a stone sculpture. Was he even breathing? Daphne, puzzled by his reaction, pulled her cheek away from his hand.

“Ryan, are you feeling sick?”

She frowned and scanned his face.

“Don’t tell me you’ve already caught my cold?”

“……”

“Is it just me, or does your face look really red…?”

A suppressed sound, like a puppy whimpering, escaped Ryan’s tightly closed lips. Daphne wondered what it was, and suddenly, he stood up abruptly.

“I’m glad you’re feeling better than I expected. I’ll be going now.”

“What?”

“Please get some rest.”

Surprised by Ryan’s sudden move, Daphne stared at him with wide eyes. But he didn’t linger a moment longer. Before she could even try to stop him, he escaped her room at lightning speed.

Ryan hadn’t even closed the door in his rush to leave. Through the gap, Daphne was left sitting alone with a puzzled expression.

* * *

Ryan lay quietly on his bed. Because the bed was a bit shorter than his height, he had to awkwardly curl up.

From the window in the ceiling, the sound of crickets chirping came in: “chirp-chirp, chirp-chirp.”

“……”

Even lying in bed, he couldn’t sleep at all. It was already late, well past midnight, but the more time passed, the more awake he felt.

It was as if a heavy stone pressed down on his chest, making it hard to breathe.

Ryan tossed and turned for a long time, trying to find a comfortable position. But the stifling feeling didn’t ease up at all.

Lying on his side, he stared at the tightly closed door, sighing deeply.

‘Daphne.’

‘Don’t call me Miss Sinclair, just call me Daphne.’

In the quiet, Daphne’s voice whispered like a dream.

‘So let’s not be so formal from now on. Let’s call each other by our names. You call me Daphne, and I’ll call you Ryan.’

‘You’ll agree, right, Ryan?’

‘Ryan.’

‘…Ryan.’

Her sweet voice echoed endlessly in his ears. And the soft touch of her skin against his palm.

The suffocating feeling in his chest grew stronger, a strange tension squeezing his heart.

Ryan shook his head fiercely, as if to drive out her voice.

Had he gone mad?

His pounding heartbeat thundered in his ears.

Was he really losing his mind, Ryan?

He pressed his hands against his eyes and questioned himself. Just lying there, his breathing grew ragged and his body felt hot, as if he’d run a marathon.

He couldn’t understand it. He’d never had s*x before, but he wasn’t so naive as to be excited just by touching a woman.

Since childhood, many women had approached him openly. Even among his comrades, seeing how wooden he was, people had tried to send pr*stitutes into his tent more than once.

Each time, he’d greeted them with a cold face and indifferent attitude. He’d shown nothing but discomfort and disdain, enough to make them leave in humiliation.

‘Looks good but is just a fake.’ ‘The most wooden man in all of Westro’—those nicknames didn’t come from nowhere.

So why? Why was his heart racing just from touching Daphne’s cheek? He wasn’t some adolescent boy unable to control himself.

It was just because he was in a strange environment.

Ryan repeated this to himself.

After all the unexpected events, and having to stay by her side due to circumstances…

Learning about her difficult past, seeing the vulnerable side she never showed others…

So.

‘So, I…’

Ryan tried hard to find an answer.

Why did Daphne Sinclair’s face keep appearing before his eyes? Why did he smile and his heart flutter whenever he thought of her?

This was just the simple affection that could exist between people. There was no romantic feeling between a man and a woman.

That was it. It had to be.

‘Daphne Sinclair is a beautiful and charming woman, but there are rumors that her ideas and behavior aren’t very proper.’

Suddenly, Ryan remembered what Ronald had told him at the Roxanne ball.

‘So, there are rumors she deliberately approaches men. Only those with high status or wealth, apparently.

The flower snake of society, or the master of seduction, she was called. Was he just another fool caught in her trap?

No. That couldn’t be.

Ryan quickly denied the possibility.

Right now, Daphne believed he was just a lowly knight, not the Duke of McClift. Even if the rumors were true, she had no reason to seduce him.

Besides, the Daphne Sinclair he’d observed lately was the complete opposite of those rumors.

Bold, enterprising, and sincere.

‘You mean I’m strong-willed, reckless, and have no sense?’

Her clear laughter rang in his ears.

Pure, innocent, and never calculating.

‘How is it? Doesn’t it look quite nice when I put it on?’

She’d smiled like a fresh flower, holding the hair ornament to her head.

When Ryan met Daphne’s eyes in his memory, his thoughts stopped.

He wasn’t crazy, mistaken, or bewitched. But if someone could seem endlessly lovely to him…

Ryan’s throat moved.

Then perhaps he…

‘Ryan.’

Her voice, peaceful and enchanting as if drifting through the night sky.

‘You’ll agree, right, Ryan?’

That voice shattered Ryan’s efforts to deny his feelings in an instant.

…Had he really fallen for her?

He was twenty-four years old.

For twenty-four years, he’d let no one into his heart, guarding it like a fortress. Now, for the first time ever, a gentle spring breeze had entered.