There could only be one explanation for how a young girl who knew nothing could grow up on the battlefield and reach that level of skill with just informal training.

Moreover, since every day was practically like real combat, her growth curve must have been steep.

She’s like him.

He thought inadvertently.

Claude, known as a sword prodigy, had first held a real sword at age 5 by order of the previous duke. His childhood was dominated by intense daily training, something he’d rather not remember.

The pride of the ducal family, who had declared themselves the Empire’s shield for generations, was immense. So he too was tormented by constant reminders that he needed to prove himself worthy as a member of the family.

His father, a man completely devoted to the Imperial family, was publicly respected but showed no mercy to others.

For instance, he treated living people as mere components he possessed. His cruelty extended to casually killing his own knights under the pretext of serving the Imperial family.

That cruelty extended even to his own child.. Claude had to endure strict discipline under the name of heir.

‘Win. By any means necessary, without exception.’

The feeling of being tested daily for his suitability as the family heir was horrible.

Even at a young age, if he lost in sparring matches against senior knights, he faced harsh criticism and grueling training without sleep. Yet he never wanted to win.

Because the moment he won, he had to behead his opponent in front of his father.

‘Throw away any compassion. Only the strongest knight whom no one in the Empire can challenge has the right to become the head of this family.’

It was a ruthless education method meant to teach the cold reality that only the strong survive.

Then one day, when all of Claude’s deliberate losses and close defeats were discovered, he was locked in an attic closet for the first time.

‘Since you all failed to properly serve the young duke, cut off the arms and legs of all the knights in the training ground and make them all cripples.’

He begged at the thunderous command, but the previous duke wouldn’t even pretend to listen. It was a threat that thinking wouldn’t help.

After several days without a single drop of water, right before the point of death, when the door finally opened, his father told him this:

‘They died because of you. While you were trapped here so powerlessly, those who followed you died in vain.’

The previous duke changed his method. He instilled a sense of guilt that someone’s death was Claude’s responsibility.

‘If you don’t want to cause pain to your people, act like a proper heir.’

The specifics varied but the conclusion was always the same. Everything was his responsibility.

The previous duke was extremely autocratic and selfish, and whenever someone resisted his authority, it  always resulted in someone’s death. His conviction, which knew only the Empire, Imperial family, and the House, was terrifyingly cruel to everything else.

His mother was the same. Having fulfilled her duty by bearing an heir, she showed no interest in her son.

She considered this kind of training as just the strict education that any noble family’s heir would receive. Moreover, since she focused solely on elevating her social status as a duchess, there was nowhere else where he could seek help.

In the end, Claude’s chosen method was to reach the highest level of martial prowess in the shortest time possible to minimize casualties.

Claude closed his eyes as his mood instantly soured from briefly recalling his childhood.

A stinging pain arose around his eyes as if they had reached their limit from the heat. Then the screams from ‘that day,’ which he thought would remain quiet, began to buzz in his ears.

Damn it.

Claude swallowed a curse, knowing that once it started, the horrific scene would color his vision even with his eyes closed.

Fire blazing as if it would devour the world. Debris scattered across the collapsed castle ruins. And the voices of knights crying out for help.

The voices that came after the memories passed brought pain that felt like his head would split. His teeth clenched involuntarily at signs of the vivid scene unfolding like hell itself.

He hadn’t meant to recall the previous duke.

He tried to blame it on remembering his childhood too late, but it was only a belated regret.

Though he tried to force himself to sleep, strangely, instead of feeling drowsy from the medicine, his mind became painfully clear.

Claude opened his eyes and turned his head, looking for the medicine bottle on the bedside table. His gaze then fell on Flora, who was tracing patterns on the carpet with her scabbard. Suddenly, he remembered holding her warm, soft body the other day.

Come to think of it, that day’s peace and fullness might have been because he held her. Maybe if he held her while sleeping……

He paused at the unconscious thought.

Had he finally gone mad?

However, that didn’t last long, as his lips parted with instinctive words to escape the pain.

“Flora, get in the bed.”

It was an impulsive statement.

The unpleasant memories he’d inadvertently recalled, along with the headache from trying to force sleep, all came rushing at once. So he needed something to wash away this feeling immediately.

And she was there before him now.

A woman who had once opened herself to him willingly, so he didn’t even need to feel sorry.

A worthless maid.

Whether forced or not, if that feeling from before was because of her, he just needed to hold her once more to find out.

It was quite simple logic.

“……Are you serious?”

Flora asked in a quiet tone as she raised her eyes toward him.

Her ash-gray irises, which seemed particularly deep even in the darkness, were studying him carefully.

“It’s an order.”

Flora hesitated for a moment, delaying her answer. It had been just a week since she had incurred the Duke’s wrath for waking up in his bed.

Yet now he was telling her to get into bed like that day — perhaps the medicine was wrong again today?

While she was pondering how to respond, he asked:

“Why? Afraid I might force myself on you again?”

Flora’s eyes widened.

Did he remember everything?

Even so, she couldn’t understand the change in the man who had been showing clear signs of displeasure until just days ago.

“Weren’t you disgusted?”

Flora rose and approached the bed hesitantly. Claude suddenly grabbed her hand and pulled her toward him.

Her stumbling body was drawn into the man’s embrace with a rustle. It was a position that felt like being trapped beneath his body.

Claude pulled her close as she tried to flinch away. The faint scent that had calmed his mind and body stimulated his subtle sense of smell.

“Rather than that, I don’t understand. Even when I came at you while unconscious, you didn’t avoid me. Why?”

Flora’s lips pressed tightly together.

In truth, she couldn’t understand her own actions either. Even after realizing it was something she absolutely shouldn’t do, she couldn’t reject him.

Because for the first time, he seemed like the same kind of person as her.

Moreover, he had drawn out her deepest inner feelings. At that moment, she felt he understood her desire to never kill again.

Come to think of it, he was also the only person who had truly cared for her. She knew the favors she had received from the Duke since coming here.

Not using her in the nobles’ dirty work. Making it so she no longer needed to fight. Helping her to the extent of driving away even those who had been with him for a long time.

All the things she had received from him came to mind, and she had once felt a sense of kinship, as if he understood the pain she had experienced.

That must have been why she couldn’t reject him. Because his embrace was so warm, like the hand holding hers now.

Flora answered his question with another question.

“Do you want me now?”

“……What if I do?”

His eyes, no longer empty as before but now carrying a clear purpose, were inscribed with an intense light. Heat rose throughout her body at his approaching breath.

After hesitating several times, pressing her lips together and pulling away, Flora looked straight up at him and asked:

“Then……do you care for me, my lord?”

After seeming to ponder long and hard about how to answer, what came back was an unexpected question.

Caught by a strange feeling, he remained silent for a while. And with her single question, Claude finally realized.

That Flora considered all his actions, including bringing her here, as kindness — no, perhaps even as affection.

She had assigned great meaning to what he considered mere shows of recognition.

As he carefully reasoned through this realization, he understood why she hadn’t resisted that night. She must have misunderstood, having never experienced the warmth that everyone else knew.