MDCHC 29

chapter 29

The way he held my hand now was completely different from the way he had tried to grab it earlier. He gently clasped my hand.

I could instinctively tell just how large his hand was, how hard the calluses were, where the scars were, and, surprisingly, that his hand was warmer than I had expected.

“Here we are.”

When Sir Winchester moved while holding my hand, it moved as if it were a puppet’s hand in a puppet show. My finger, still slick from the ointment, brushed against my collarbone.

It was my hand, my finger—but it wasn’t my movement.

Rubbing my collarbone with that warm, slick finger was my hand, yet it wasn’t my hand. I had moved it, but at the same time, I hadn’t.

The hand was hot. I couldn’t tell whether it was the temperature of the hand being held or the hand doing the holding.

I found myself staring, almost hypnotized, at the movement of the large hand holding mine. The long fingers, the muscles of the hand that gripped me, the prominent knuckles, and the blue eyes glimpsed beyond the firm arm.

“……”

The moment our eyes met, I felt like I should say something. But I didn’t know what. I was confused about what expression to make.

I only looked like a deer caught in water, flailing, my mouth agape like a goldfish that had been brought to shore.

“All done.”

The instant Sir Winchester released my hand, my stiff body relaxed as if freed from a binding spell, and my mind cleared.

“Thank you.”

The first thing I did after regaining composure was to look away from his eyes. Otherwise, I might get lost in their bright blue again.

I had always thought Sir Winchester simply looked at me with stoicism, without emotion. Even after marriage, I believed he hadn’t changed. But I was wrong.

Today, I realized a clear fact: Sir Winchester’s gaze had changed.

It was no longer the cold look I first saw. It wasn’t the icy stare like a harsh winter.

The eyes that had seemed indifferent, as if staring at a stranger, had changed. Faintly, almost imperceptibly—even Sir Winchester himself might not notice—but unmistakably.

His gaze on me carried a clear warmth.

“I think I might start to like you.”

A long-forgotten phrase suddenly came to mind.

“I bet he’s impotent.”

I muttered to myself in the empty room. If anyone had been there, I wouldn’t have dared to say it out loud.

“He must be impotent.”

It was something I couldn’t quite explain, but it gave off a soft, pinkish vibe. He had been the first to touch my hand, and although he hadn’t directly touched me, the spot it grazed was my collarbone. It wasn’t a sexual spot, yet it wasn’t entirely neutral either.

The atmosphere was clearly romantic. Even rubbing a stone statue’s nose instead of my collarbone could have made my heart race. And so, my heart did race!

“Definitely impotent!”

I slammed my hand on the desk, reaching my conclusion.

I could definitely feel it—the atmosphere had shifted slightly. His gaze toward me had changed, if only a little.

But was it all just my imagination?

I tried to prolong the moment, to keep the mood alive, but Sir Winchester cut it short with surgical precision, saying my business here was done and I should leave.

“Nooo! That’s not it!”

The wall of truth was massive. Daniel—the lovely presence—was that wall.

Sir Winchester was not impotent. Then the reason he had remained so calm and composed in that moment was simple:

“It must have all been my imagination.”

Last night, too, Sir Winchester had slept purely. Thanks to that, I also slept purely and peacefully.

Even though it had been over a month since our marriage, and I was officially a married woman, I was still as pure as untouched first snow.

“Do I really need to be that pure…? I’m a married woman…”

I slumped in my chair, sliding to the edge as if almost lying down, mumbling absentmindedly until I suddenly snapped to attention.

“What am I saying! I need to stay pure! It’s not like I like Sir Winchester! Am I crazy?!”

I straightened abruptly, shouting at myself.

“This is all because of stress. Meeting that cursed household yesterday stressed my brain, so it tried to escape elsewhere. Yes! That’s it!”

I began spewing words like a machine gun to dispel the ridiculous fantasy I had just imagined, blaming the entire mess on the Earls of Aytley. They deserved it anyway, so I felt no guilt.

“Sometimes you need to clear your mind. Look at pretty things, good things.”

I jumped to my feet, determined to see the prettiest and best things I knew.

After waiting for Miss Renold and Daniel’s lesson to finish, I coaxed Daniel to have a picnic in the garden. I prepared sandwiches with plenty of jam and cold lemonade, and we settled under the large plane tree.

The thick leaves provided a cool shade where a gentle breeze made it pleasant to enjoy the sunny day without feeling the heat.

“What are you drawing?”

I asked Daniel, who was munching on a jam sandwich while doodling with colored pencils.

“My rabbit, Tosun!”

Daniel smiled brightly, clearly in a good mood. Sure enough, Tosun lay quietly next to the drawing.

“Tosun’s lucky! Being a model too!”

Although the drawing only consisted of a few circles, I played along enthusiastically.

‘Could he have some talent in drawing?’

I tilted my head, examining Daniel’s picture. Yet I wasn’t skilled enough to judge whether it was good or not.

‘Should I show Daniel’s drawing to an artist? Or take him to an exhibition to see if he’s interested?’

Watching the growing circles and wobbly lines, I became increasingly unsure.

I agreed with Sir Winchester’s opinion that it was best to let children do what they enjoyed, but I still didn’t know what Daniel truly liked. I had tried various things, but nothing seemed to captivate him or reveal hidden talent.

Despite being the daughter of the Swordmaster Sir Winchester, Daniel was almost clumsy and fearful.

She was afraid of horses for riding, her hands and feet didn’t coordinate for fencing, and she struggled to follow balls in sports.

Though she would need to learn dancing eventually, her steps were tangled.

Music wasn’t bad. She wasn’t tone-deaf nor rhythmically challenged. She learned scales and hand motions quickly due to her intelligence and diligence, but she didn’t find much joy in it.

So I wondered about drawing, and that’s why I gave her paper and colored pencils.

‘Not an extraordinary talent, but…’

I watched as she roughly captured Tosun’s long ears and uneven lines.

“Wow! Our Daniel draws so well!”

Yet my praise felt almost automatic.

“Really?”

Daniel lifted her head, wide-eyed.

“Yes! It’s amazing! Anyone would know that’s Tosun! Even if he were doing a handstand on a moving carriage, anyone would recognize Tosun!”

It wasn’t a lie. With ears like that, what else could it be but a rabbit? No other creature I knew had ears like those.

The drawing captured Tosun’s characteristics well: long ears, round eyes, four legs, and the same gray color.

Could Daniel actually be a drawing prodigy?

“Heheh.”

Daniel blushed and laughed shyly at my praise.

Her rosy cheeks and smiling mouth were so cute! I wanted to hug her tightly, maybe even gently nibble those soft cheeks—but that would probably be a bad idea.

“Oh?”

Daniel suddenly widened her eyes, as if she had noticed something.