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I Married the Dragon I Killed Chapter 67: The Second Tea Party

Chapter 67: The Second Tea Party

Perda‌​ observed how things‌⁠ were progressing in‍ Castle Valdrova.

He⁠‌ had been absent⁠​ for an entire‍‍ month, so he‍​ thought perhaps some​ kind of problem‌‍ might have occurred,​⁠​ but everything was‍‍‌ advancing smoothly.

The‌‌ first place he⁠ went to was​ Vernell’s laboratory.

Even​​ Vernell’s incomprehensible theories​‌⁠ were beginning to‌‍ be refined into⁠​⁠ something relatively easy‍‌ to understand.

It‍‍ was the result​​ achieved thanks to⁠‍ the 15 assistants⁠ helping him.

‘The⁠‌ great mountain is​ still far away.’‍

The‌​ biggest challenge was​​ still Malcolm.

“Sir‌‍ Malcolm, could you​ place this into‌ the slot on​‍‌ the right?”

“The⁠​‍ right, you say?‌‌ Understood!”

“No,​⁠⁠ the right! The‌​‍ hand you eat‍​⁠ with! No, not‍ there! Aaagh!”

For⁠‍⁠ those who had‍‌ lived competing among​ geniuses, Malcolm was⁠⁠​ practically a calamity.‌‍‍

The‌‍ moment someone used‍‌ words that were⁠ even slightly complicated,​​ he immediately made​​‍ a face like​‌‍ he understood nothing.‍‌

He‌​ confused east, west,‌​ north, and south.⁠‍

Even‍ right and left.‌​

The⁠‌​ most stupidly idiotic⁠⁠ being in history.​

Even​‍‌ geniuses had to‌⁠ manage to make‍‍ a fool understand⁠​​ things they themselves‍‌​ did not fully‌‍ understand.

Vernell‌ had torn out‌‌ so much of​​ his hair that​ his once abundant⁠ head of hair‍‍‍ now revealed his⁠⁠ scalp.

And⁠​‌ yet the cause​ of it all,‌⁠ Malcolm, still kept‍​‌ smiling as innocently⁠ as a dog​‌‌ on a walk.‍⁠

‘After‍ all, magitech is‌ something designed to⁠ be used by‌‌​ people who are⁠ not mages.’

If⁠ someone at Malcolm’s‌​‌ level could, even​ if he was‌⁠ incapable of applying⁠​⁠ it, at least​‌​ understand its function​‌ and manipulate it,‍‍ then ordinary people‌‌​ could use it⁠​‍ too.

That⁠‍ was the ultimate‌‍ goal Perda wished⁠​​ to achieve.

‘Anyway,​‌​ everything here seems‌⁠ to be going‌ well.’

As‍‌ he watched them‍‌​ clutching their heads‌ from stress, Perda⁠ heard a loud‌⁠​ voice from a corner of the​⁠‍ hallway.

“Hyaaaah!?”‌‍

Just​‍ from hearing it,⁠ he knew who‍​‍ it was.

The‍ demon Penelope.

“W-what‍‍‍ is this witch?!​ Why is a witch walking around⁠ so freely inside‌‍‌ a dragon’s castle?!”‍‌

The⁠⁠⁠ “witch” she referred‌ to was undoubtedly‌‍ Echidna.

“Fufufufufufu,‌‍​ if a demon​ can walk around⁠​ here, then why⁠ couldn’t a witch‍‍⁠ toooo?”

Perda‌ wondered why they‍‍ were involved with​‍⁠ each other, but‍​⁠ the answer appeared‌‌​ immediately.

“Uh…⁠ Miss Echidna, could⁠ you calm down‍ and listen to‌‍ me?”

It‍⁠⁠ was because of‌‌ Zed.

When⁠​‌ he approached, it‍​ became clear.

Penelope⁠⁠‍ was clinging to​ Zed’s leg.

Zed‌ looked completely desperate.‌

And‍‌ Echidna was pointing‍ a sword at‌​‍ him.

Echidna’s⁠‌ eyes were unfocused.​‍‍

“Aah,‌‌ Sir Zed. Please‍​ do not worry.⁠‌ I am not​​‍ going to harm‍⁠ you. I will‌‍ simply attempt a contractual separation.”

“Contractual‌⁠‍ separation?”

“Yes.​ I will cut‍ off the part‌​‍ where the mark​‍‍ Sir Zed made‌⁠‌ was engraved and​​ grant it new‍ life to avoid‌‌ the curse. Then⁠‍​ your body will​‍ once again become​⁠ completely clean, just‍⁠ like before.”

“…That‌⁠​ sounds exactly like‌‌ you’re going to​‍ cut off my⁠⁠ arm.”

“And⁠ afterward you will⁠⁠​ have to live​ enduring terrible pain‍⁠ every day. But‍‌‌ that pain will‍ be nothing!”

Zed,​ completely dumbfounded, finally‍ said what he‌ truly thought.

“Are‌ you insane?”

“Please​‍‌ do not worry!‌ Even if you⁠⁠ only have one‌​ arm, I will​ love you forever,‍ Sir Zed!”

“Well⁠⁠ I love my​⁠ arms!”

“We‍‌‌ will overcome it!⁠ With the power‌ of our love!”⁠‍‌

There⁠ was another completely⁠ different disaster here⁠‌ as well.

Just‌ listening to the‌‌ conversation made it‍‌ easy to deduce​ the cause.

‘Because‍⁠ of the pact‌‍ he made with​ Penelope.’

On⁠​ the day of‍​‍ the rescue, Perda​‍‌ had forced Penelope‌⁠ and Zed to⁠​ sign a contract.‍‍​

It‍ was to prevent⁠⁠‌ Penelope from returning⁠‌‍ to hell and,‌ at the same⁠​‍ time, monitor her​ movements.

And​‍ he had also⁠‍ placed a powerful‍ silence mechanism on​‌‌ her to prevent⁠​‍ her from revealing‍‌‌ anything about Sitri’s​ Life Vessel without‌​‍ his permission.

Although‌ technically Penelope was‍⁠ the one wearing‌⁠⁠ the collar around​‌‌ her neck, for⁠⁠ her the conditions⁠ were extraordinarily favorable.‌

After​‍ all, hiding in​‌ a dragon’s nest⁠⁠ was far safer⁠‌‍ than living on​‌‍ the run everywhere⁠‌ as a fugitive.​

‘And‌‌ maybe it’s not‍​‌ entirely bad for‍⁠​ Zed either?’

He⁠ was a man​‍‌ who reacted automatically⁠‌ to any woman.​

And​ Penelope was still‌‍ a woman, so‍‌⁠ perhaps he did‍ not dislike it‍​​ completely.

Perda‌‍​ never explained Penelope’s‌⁠ true use to‌ Zed.

It​‌ was enough for‍‍‌ him to know​ that she was​⁠‌ an extremely precious‌ daughter of Sitri.‍‌

While⁠⁠‌ Zed was trapped​ between a demon‌ and a witch,⁠‍ he made eye​ contact with Perda.‌

Zed​⁠⁠ spoke only with‍ his eyes.

Save‌ me.

A man speaks with‌ his back.

Perda‌​‍ responded like a true man.

He‌‍ turned his back⁠⁠​ on him.

Handle​⁠ it yourself.

‘Anyway,‍‌‌ everything is still​ functioning without problems.’‌‌​

While​‌‍ he had been⁠ away, nobody knew​‌ what had really⁠ happened.

Everything​​ continued moving forward​​ without anyone realizing‌‍‌ anything.

“Sir‍⁠ Perda.”

The​​⁠ small girl in​‍ a maid uniform,‍ Ruri, approached as​ always.

“It​​‌ is prepared.”

“Understood.”​

Perda‍​‍ unnecessarily adjusted his‍‍ tie.

Black⁠‌⁠ hands emerged from‍‌ his clothes and⁠⁠‍ began fixing his​‌⁠ outfit once again.​

He‍ had taken the​‌​ risk of negotiating​​ with demons to‍‌ obtain information.

He‍⁠‌ had killed the​‌⁠ one who threatened‌​⁠ to take Ruri⁠ away.

Two⁠⁠‍ situations capable of‌⁠‍ endangering the very‌ existence of a country had fallen​​‍ upon him.

And​‍⁠ yet none of‍ those moments had⁠‌⁠ made him as⁠‌ nervous as this.⁠‌‌

It‍‌ felt like when,​ as a child,⁠‍ he hid beneath⁠⁠​ the wardrobe a blanket he had⁠⁠ wet after peeing​​ himself.

A secret that perhaps⁠‍ nobody would discover⁠ immediately but that⁠‍‍ would inevitably come‍‍ to light someday.​⁠

However,‌‌ that anxiety disappeared⁠‍ the moment the‍⁠ door to the⁠‌‍ recreation hall opened.​⁠

What‌​​ he saw was​ a completely open‍​ balcony.

A table prepared for⁠​‌ a tea party.​

And⁠‍‍ a strangely familiar​ dragon knight armor.‌‍

‘Again‌‍ today?’

He​‍ had already seen​ it twice before,​ so it was‍ not that surprising.‍

She​⁠⁠ remained seated, silently‌‌ observing that place.⁠‍

The​‍‌ helmet made in‌​ the likeness of‌​​ Valdrova’s draconic eyes​​‌ imposed pressure on‌ anyone who looked‍ at her.

‘Why‍‌‍ is she so‌‌‍ still?’

Perda⁠‌‍ slowly walked forward.‍​‌

And‍ he began imagining​ what expression might‍​ be hidden behind​‌ that helmet.

Before‍⁠‌ he reached the⁠‍ worst of his​ imaginings, he understood.​⁠​

“Zzz…”​‌‌

She‍⁠ was asleep.

Valdrova’s‍‌‍ head tilted forward.‌⁠‌

It‍ looked like she‌‌ was about to‌‌‌ fall face-first onto‍ the floor, but⁠ she raised herself‍‍‌ again.

“Mnh…⁠ hm… mm?”

Valdrova’s⁠ helmet slowly lifted​ toward Perda.

“Mm…‌​ Sir Perda…?”

A sleepy voice echoed‍‍ faintly.

She‍‍‌ stared at him.‍⁠​

“Huh!?‌ S-Sir Perda?!”

She‍ hurriedly stood up‌ to greet him.​

“Y-you​ came!”

“Yes.​‌ My respects to⁠‍ Grand Duchess Valdrova.”‌‍‌

“W-welcome,⁠ Sir Perda. I…‌⁠ um…”

Valdrova‍⁠⁠ could not find‌​ a suitable excuse.​⁠

Perda​ decided to help‍ her.

“It‌ seems you had‌⁠⁠ many things on​​⁠ your mind. You​⁠‌ were deeply lost⁠‌​ in thought.”

“Eh?​‌‌ Ah… well… actually,‌​ I had fallen‌ asleep…”

“Normally,‍​ when a king​‍ falls asleep and‍‍‌ wakes up, it⁠ is courtesy to​ say something like‌‍‍ that.”

“Ah,⁠‌​ i-is that so?⁠ You’re right! Yes,‍‌‍ I was thinking!​ Of course!”

Happy⁠⁠​ to have found‍‌ an excuse, she‌‍‌ nodded repeatedly.

She‌‍‌ was terrible at​ lying.

“Is‍⁠‍ Sir Perda alright?”‌

“Yes.”⁠‍‍

“I‌ heard there were‍ problems with the‌‍‍ carriage. That’s why⁠‌ you said you​​​ passed through Count‌‌ Consilus’s territory…”

Perda⁠‌​ glanced at Ruri.⁠‍

She,⁠ standing still like‌‌​ background decoration, gave​ a slight nod.‌

So‌ Perda nodded as‍ well.

“Yes,​ that is what‌‍‌ happened.”

“You​ weren’t injured, were​‍ you?”

“It​⁠ was nothing serious.‍⁠ It could be​‍‍ resolved with some⁠ light repairs.”

“What‌‍ a relief. I was a little‌ worried.”

She‌⁠ truly looked relieved.‌‌‌

And‌​ precisely because of⁠ that reaction, the​‌ secret had to‍​‍ remain hidden.

“What⁠‌⁠ did you talk⁠ about at the⁠ Grand Council of‌‍ Dukes?”

Perda‍‌‌ began recounting what‌‌ had happened there.⁠

Mainly⁠‌‌ matters related to​​ territorial disputes.

“I‌​‍ see. On the‌ continent of Serdes…​ although I’ve heard‍‌ wars happen from‍ time to time.”⁠‍

Territorial‍ conflicts between elves​⁠ and dwarves.

“They’re​‌​ still fighting? I think it was‍‍ like that in‌‌ the past too…”⁠‍​

Most‍​‌ of the stories‌ were of that‍⁠​ sort.

Conflicts.⁠‌

Resentment.​​

There​⁠ were no stories⁠ capable of bringing​⁠ out a smile.‍‌

And‍⁠ even so, Valdrova‍ listened attentively.

And‍‍ that was precisely⁠‍‍ what made it‍​‍ frightening.

He​ feared that he⁠ might eventually make‌​‍ a mistake, swept‍⁠ away by her‌ innocence.

It​⁠ was not easy‍⁠ to stain that​⁠ pure snow with​‍ mud.

“And‍‌‍ besides…”

The⁠‌ conversation reached its‌‍ final part.

“We‍‍ spoke about the‌ conquest of the⁠⁠‌ East.”

“The​​​ conquest of the​ East?”

“I‌ declared that we⁠‍‌ would conquer the‍​⁠ Demon Lands that​ lie on our‌ border.”

“Ah.”⁠​‌

Demon​‌ Lands.

Upon​‌ hearing those words,‍ even Valdrova, who‌⁠ had responded with‌ interest until now,​⁠ fell silent.

Unconsciously,⁠​ she began stroking‌ her arm.

Her⁠ gaze drifted beyond‍‌‍ the balcony.

The​ scenery of early⁠ autumn, when the‍‍ colors were at‍‍ their richest.

The​​‌ ordinary landscape every‌‍⁠ inhabitant of the⁠‌ continent of Serdes​ saw every day.⁠⁠​

“Even‍ that place they‍‌‍ now call the‍⁠⁠ Demon Lands…”

Her‌‍‌ voice became nostalgic.⁠‌

“There​‌ was once a time when it​⁠‍ had scenery just‍ as beautiful as‍ this.”

Complex​‍ emotions dwelled within‍‌ her voice.

“Even⁠​‍ though it is‌⁠‍ now stained black,‍⁠‍ do you think⁠⁠ it can someday‍‌⁠ regain such beautiful‍ colors?”

Of​​​ course it can.​‌⁠

He‍ could have ended‍‌‍ it with a simple answer like‍ that.

But​ Perda could not‌ do it.

“It​‍​ will not be​ easy.”

He​​ did not give⁠⁠ her false reassurance.‌‍​

“But‍ I will do⁠ whatever is necessary‌⁠​ to restore the​​‌ scenery you once‌⁠ saw.”

Instead,‌‌‍ he showed his‌​‌ determination.

“Is⁠⁠​ that so?”

Valdrova​ smiled happily, as​ if those words‍ had truly reached‌⁠ her heart.

“If⁠⁠ there is anything​​‌ I can do⁠ to help, I will do my‌‌‌ utmost.”

She‌ clenched her fist⁠‍ tightly.

“My​⁠ fiancé is working‍ so hard that⁠ I cannot simply‌ sit still and‍ do nothing.”

“If​ Your Grace chooses‍ to extend your‍ hand to me,⁠ it would be⁠‌ my greatest honor.”‍‌

As⁠ he watched that,‍⁠‌ Perda felt his​‌ heart calming down.‍‌

He​‌‍ did not need​ to interpret hidden‍​ intentions.

He‍ could accept her⁠ words exactly as⁠ they were.

That⁠ was true purity.‌‌

“Uh…‌⁠‌ don’t you have⁠⁠‌ anything else to‌ tell me?”

“No,⁠ nothing else.”

“Ah…​ I see…”

Valdrova‌ turned her voice​‍⁠ away uncertainly.

What⁠ had she been‌ expecting to hear?‍​⁠

What⁠ kind of conversation‌ had she wanted?​⁠

Perda‌ brought the now‌‌​ lukewarm teacup to​‍‌ his lips.

“It’s​‍ just that… Ruri​ told me…”

“Yes.”‌‌

“That⁠‌‍ you held hands‍⁠‌ with a woman‌‍‌ named Olivia.”

“Pffft!”‌

The‌ tea went down​ the wrong way​‌ and he ended‍ up spectacularly spitting‍ it out.

The‌​ one most startled‍ was not Perda,‌​ but Valdrova.

“Sir⁠ Perda!? Are you​‍‍ alright?”

“Yes,‌‍⁠ I’m fine.”

“I’m​ sorry. I didn’t​​​ mean to surprise‍ you… I just​⁠​ wanted to talk⁠ a little…”

Perda⁠‌ wiped his mouth​⁠‍ with a handkerchief⁠‌‍ and slowly turned‍​​ his gaze.

He‍​ met the eyes‌ of Ruri, who‌‍​ still stood there​‌ like a folding‍ screen.

So⁠ you even told⁠⁠​ her that?

When⁠‌‌ he glared at​‍​ her silently asking‍‍ the question, Ruri‌‌‍ looked away.

It​ would have been‍⁠​ a lie to⁠ say he did‌​ not feel resentment.​

Suddenly,⁠⁠ his head began‍‌ to ache.

What⁠‍‍ was he supposed​‍ to say to⁠ escape this situation?‍​

That⁠ she was the‌‌‌ one who grabbed‍‍⁠ his hand first?⁠‍

That⁠⁠ yes, he held⁠ it, but it‌⁠ did not mean‍ much?

Dozens‍ of excuses appeared‍‌‍ in his mind,​​ but Perda erased⁠‌​ them immediately.

“I’m​ sorry. Holding another‍⁠ woman’s hand in​​‍ front of Your⁠⁠ Grace…”

“Huh?‌⁠‍ Betrayal? I don’t‍‌ mind something like⁠​ that!”

She‌​‌ waved her hands⁠ quickly.

“After​‌ all, Sir Perda​‌ is also a man, and I heard she was‍‍⁠ very beautiful, so​‌ I thought that…‌ it was normal.”⁠​​

She‍‌​ tried to appear​ understanding.

But‍‍​ her restless fingers‍‍⁠ and lowered head‍ proved otherwise.

Guilt⁠‍ began crushing Perda’s‌⁠ chest.

“So…”‌‌

She‍ carefully looked up⁠ at him from​ below.

“Maybe…”⁠

Tilting⁠⁠ her head slightly,​‌ she asked timidly.​

“Maybe…‌⁠‌ you would also‌‌⁠ like to hold​ my hand…?”

Perda’s‍‌⁠ mind went completely⁠​‌ blank.

“…Excuse‌ me?”

He⁠⁠ ended up asking‍⁠ stupidly.

“Your​ Grace’s… hand?”

“Yes.‌ Last time you​​‌ already held it⁠ once… and I think I could‌​ do it too…”⁠‌

Even​‍ though showing her‍⁠ face was still‍⁠⁠ too difficult.

She​‌​ murmured that to‍​​ herself while waiting‌​ for an answer.​⁠‍

“W-what‌​​ do you think?”‌‍

Unlike‍‍‌ that seemingly light‌‍​ question, Perda was‍⁠ more careful than⁠ ever.

This​ was an irreplaceable⁠ opportunity.

He​⁠⁠ could not waste​⁠ it through a mistake.

He⁠ forcibly calmed the⁠‍ trembling in his⁠ body and swallowed‍ to steady his‍ voice.

“I‍ want… to hold​​ it.”

“Understood.‍⁠ One moment.”

She‌‍‍ removed her gauntlet.​​

And​ beneath that enormous‍ armor appeared a small and delicate‌⁠ hand.

A fragile arm incapable‍ of conveying the​ majesty of her‍​ strength.

When‌⁠ she timidly clenched⁠​ her fist, it​​ looked even smaller.‌

“H-here‌ it is!”

She​​​ showed him the‌​⁠ palm of her⁠‌ hand.

Perda‍ stared at it,​​ completely absorbed.

The‌‍‍ slender fingers.

The‌⁠ lines marked across‍ her palm.

Everything‍‌ looked like a perfect painting.

Perda⁠ carefully took her‌ hand—

“Hiiik!?”​⁠

Valdrova’s​‍‌ hand instantly flew​‍ backward.

He​⁠​ did not even​⁠‌ have time to‌​ feel whether it⁠ was soft or‍ not.

“What‌ is wrong?”

“N-no,‌⁠‌ it’s just… you⁠​ see… I feel​ like I won’t⁠ be able to⁠⁠ control my strength‌​⁠ very well… so⁠‍ I need to…⁠​ prepare myself mentally⁠ a little…”

Her​ voice became weaker⁠​​ and weaker, and​​‌ her agitated breathing‌​‌ echoed inside the‍ helmet.

Perda‍​⁠ felt his chest​ twist, thinking for‍​‌ an instant that​​ she was going‌ to take it‌ back.

Valdrova‍⁠​ placed both hands⁠ on her chest‌​ while trying to‍‌ regain her breath.​‍⁠

Since‍ the tension would‍ not disappear, Perda‍‍‍ finally suggested—

“If​ controlling your strength‍​ is difficult… what​ if I place‍ my hand on‌ top instead?”

“Ah!⁠ That might work!‌​‌ Then… let’s do⁠⁠‍ it that way.”⁠​

Valdrova‍‍⁠ timidly rested the‌​‌ back of her⁠ hand on the‍ table.

Perda⁠‌‌ slowly placed his⁠ hand over hers​‍ again.

Crack—‌​‍

At‌​​ that moment, the‌⁠ sound of something⁠⁠ breaking could be‌‌​ heard.

When​​ he looked closely,‍ he saw cracks‌ spreading across the​‍ table.

‘Didn’t‌ they say this⁠ table was made⁠ of granite?’

A material so durable​‍ they claimed not‍ even a Meteor​ falling from the​ sky could break‍‌⁠ it.

If​‌‌ they had made‍​ a table out‍ of that, it⁠‌ was probably the​‍ strongest table on⁠ the continent.

‘They‌​‍ said it was​‍ nearly impossible to‍‍⁠ even crack it,​‍ but as expected…’‍

She‍ was not called​‍ the Incarnation of‍​⁠ Strength for nothing.​⁠

As‌​ he thought that,‍‌‌ Perda suddenly remembered‌‌⁠ something he had​‍ done before.

His​​ first meeting with‍⁠‍ her.

The‌ irrational impulse he⁠‍ had felt when​‌​ he wanted to‍ see Valdrova’s face.‌

‘Now‍ that I think⁠‍​ about it… I think I even‍‌⁠ interlocked fingers with⁠⁠​ her.’

Perda⁠​⁠ sincerely felt grateful‍ that his right‍⁠ hand had not⁠ been pulverized back⁠​ then.

And‍‍ even feeling that‌‌ much fear, he⁠ still could not‌ let go of‌​ Valdrova’s hand.

It‌‌ was small and​⁠⁠ soft.

The‍​ warmth of her⁠⁠​ body and the‍⁠ clear pulse beating​​‍ beneath her skin.‌‍​

A small part of‌⁠​ her that he‍​ wanted to hold‍‍ forever.

And‌⁠‍ if he had‍ to let go,​​‌ then at least‍‌ he wanted to⁠ engrave that feeling‌‍​ into himself without‍​⁠ regrets.

‘Maybe⁠ it wouldn’t matter‌‍ even if my​ hand ended up‍​ shattered to pieces.’‍⁠​

For​ a moment, he‌⁠ thought about giving‍ in to the⁠ impulse.

But​‌‌ his reason crushed‌⁠‍ that idea.

“Have⁠‌ you still been‌‍‌ suffering lately from⁠ the blood impulse?”‌⁠⁠

Valdrova⁠⁠ shook her head.⁠​

“No…‍ I’m alright.”

“Lady⁠‍ Valdrova did not‌⁠‌ go hunting yesterday.”‌

“R-Ruri?”⁠

Valdrova‌‍ startled.

Ruri​​⁠ suddenly appeared, dropping⁠​ that information before⁠ returning to silence.​‌

“Is⁠​‌ that true?”

“That…​ yes… although I don’t think anything‍​ will happen. Just‌ because monsters did‌‌​ not appear yesterday‍⁠‍ does not mean​‌⁠ they won’t appear‌ today either.”

“But⁠​⁠ there is also‍‌​ no guarantee they‌⁠‍ will.”

“That…⁠⁠ is also true…”​

“And‍ if you cannot‍⁠‌ hunt, you will​ end up hurting‍‍‌ yourself.”

“……”‍​‍

Valdrova‌‌​ fell silent.

In‍ an atmosphere like⁠‌ this, she had​ no idea what‍ she was supposed‌‌ to say.

But⁠​ words were not⁠ really necessary.

“Ah…”​‍⁠

Valdrova‌‌ felt something slowly⁠‌ flowing onto the‌‌ back of her⁠‍ hand.

It⁠​ was a sensation‌‌ she knew very​ well.

The⁠‍ same thing that‌⁠‌ had calmed that‌‍ blood impulse before.‌​

“Sir​⁠​ Perda…”

“Do⁠⁠‌ not worry.”

Valdrova​⁠ closed her mouth.⁠​

What‌⁠ was entering her⁠‌‌ body slowly calmed‍‌ the violent beating‌‌ of her heart.‍‌‌

Even‍‍ though she had⁠ already experienced it⁠⁠ before, it still‍‍ felt incredible.

That‌‌​ impulse, which normally⁠‍ only disappeared after⁠‌ violently unleashing itself,‍ was now fading⁠⁠⁠ away with absolute‌‌​ calm.

“Sir…​‍ Perda…”

“Yes.”⁠​

“I​‍ think… that is‌‍‌ enough now.”

“Really?”​‍⁠

“Yes.”‌

Perda‌⁠ stopped injecting mana.​

Silence‌ fell between them.‌⁠

A terribly awkward silence.‌

And⁠⁠ yet, neither of⁠ them dared break​⁠⁠ it.

Because‌ they felt that⁠‌ the moment either‍⁠ of them spoke,⁠‍‍ both would end​​​ up rising from‌‍ their seats.

And‌ the hands they⁠‌ had finally joined‌‌‍ together with such‌ courage would separate‍​ once more.

Just‌‌ a little longer.⁠‍‌

They⁠ enjoyed that awkward​⁠ silence.

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