Episode 9
“I simply thought that it was time to get married.”
Sir Dylan’s expression hardened.
It felt as though he were hiding some kind of secret.
“I see. Then I’ll finish eating now!”
I picked up my spoon and resumed tasting the bouillabaisse when he quietly called my name.
“However…”
“Yes?”
“Ms. Ishael, you are someone worthy of respect.”
“…Respect? All of a sudden?”
“Yes. Respect.”
Respect?
That sounded like something one would say to a mentor or teacher—it felt oddly formal.
I smiled broadly and waved my hand dismissively.
“Thank you, Sir Dylan! I suppose I must’ve done something admirable for you to respect me, haha!”
“Yes. That is correct.”
…Wait, seriously?
Half suspicious, half curious, I asked,
“What was it?”
Sir Dylan’s normally indifferent gaze trembled ever so slightly.
“The way you subdued your opponent so ruthlessly was… extremely impressive.”
…Me? When?
Was he talking about me?
Wasn’t he mistaken?
It felt forced, as though he were squeezing words out of himself.
Watching him struggle to continue, I suddenly realized—
He was just saying whatever came to mind, wasn’t he?
Trying to comfort me because I seemed to have low self-esteem.
Sir Dylan… you’re not quite what the rumors said.
Stories about him dancing atop monster corpses with his sword, coldly rejecting countless women—or conversely, being surrounded by them nonstop.
It seemed none of those rumors were particularly reliable.
He’s actually quite kind.
I swallowed the food in my mouth and brushed my hair back, smiling shyly.
“As you probably already know, Sir Dylan, you’re also someone worthy of great respect!”
The moment he saw my smile, Sir Dylan’s expression stiffened dramatically.
His entire body, too.
…Did I get food stuck in my teeth?
Even so, was that really enough to make him freeze like that?
After dinner, I quickly finished my meal.
It was time to look around the house properly.
Patting my slightly bloated stomach, I spoke cheerfully.
“I heard the house has four rooms.”
“One is a powder room, another appears to be a storage room. There are two rooms suitable for use as bedrooms.”
It seemed he had already taken a brief look around.
As expected—Sir Dylan was meticulous.
“I’ll take a look around too!”
I walked through the living room with an awestruck expression.
Earlier, I had been too distracted by his cooking to properly inspect the house, but the more I looked, the more perfect it seemed.
It smelled pleasant, there was no mold, no money-draining family members—and best of all, a free house that hadn’t cost me a single coin!
The exterior walls were solidly built from red sandstone.
Beneath the lofty height of the decorative ceiling hung a radiant chandelier.
The kitchen and living room were placed side by side, separated by a single paneled door.
Through the living room window, the river cutting through the imperial capital stretched out in full view.
I stepped into the living room, smiling happily.
An antique couch sat beside a fireplace that would crackle warmly once winter arrived.
It was my dream home.
“Let’s check the smaller room next!”
Humming, I opened the door—
And just then, his voice struck my ear.
“Please use the larger room, Ms. Ishael.”
“Huh? But—”
He must not have seen the small room yet.
I was about to explain its layout to him, but Sir Dylan spoke faster.
“I like the interior of the smaller room.”
I looked up at him uncertainly and nodded.
“…I see. That’s your preference.”
Creaaak.
Perhaps due to a draft, the small room’s door slowly opened wider.
Seeing the inside at last, Sir Dylan swallowed a groan.
The room he claimed to like—
Was a nursery.
Cute mobiles hung from the ceiling.
Rattles, baby supplies, and toy sets filled an entire wall.
“Th-Then… I respect your preference!”
I hurried into the larger bedroom.
Only then did I realize I was smiling faintly.
I quickly forced my expression back into neutrality.
After finishing the house tour with Sir Dylan, I entered the large bedroom.
He had practically informed me that he would handle the dishes.
Then I’ll take care of the cleaning.
Laundry and other small household chores would be my responsibility.
We should remain nothing more than appropriate housemates.
Until now, I had tried to heal my wounds from my family through a boyfriend.
The result had been nothing but being taken advantage of by Pedro.
So for a while, I intended to keep my distance from people.
“I don’t need anyone! The bed is the best!”
A queen-sized bed—luxurious for a newlywed house.
A queen-size bed… that’s far more than I deserve.
I threw myself onto the rustling mattress and thought again.
It would’ve been even better if it were king-size.
Rolling around freely on the bed, exhaustion finally caught up with me.
Perhaps it was because so much had happened today.
Or maybe because I’d overeaten.
Without even washing my face, I drifted off to sleep.
I didn’t know how much time had passed—
Crack—BOOM!
The noise made my eyes snap open.
Thunder.
The moment I recognized the sound, my body froze.
The pleasant feel of the new blankets vanished instantly.
Worse still, the large bedroom had a massive glass window.
Beyond it, lightning struck wildly, flashing again and again.
The world outside blinked white, then bright once more.
I’m scared…
I knew the lightning couldn’t kill me.
And yet, for some reason, every time it thundered, my entire body trembled.
As if proving how powerless humans were in the face of death’s vivid terror.
As if I had once experienced overwhelming fear beneath such sounds before…
I pulled the blanket over my head and shook.
But the thunder didn’t stop.
After trembling alone for a long while, the storm finally began to subside.
I cautiously poked my head out.
I thought drinking some water might calm me.
Just as I grabbed the doorknob—
A tall silhouette stood outside.
“…Is something wrong?”
It was Sir Dylan.
A sharp-featured man with the coldest expression imaginable.
His mountain-like frame stood towering over me.
And yet—
In his large hand, he was holding two very tiny rattles.
There was a faint look of surprise on his stern face.
“What is the matter? You don’t look well.”
“It’s nothing.”
“You’re trembling.”
Sensing something was wrong, he met my eyes.
As our gazes locked, he extended the rattles toward me—then hesitated.
A… rattle?
A man nearly 190 centimeters tall offering rattles.
At the sight, my trembling stopped, and I finally laughed.
Not understanding why I was laughing, he solemnly shook them.
Clink. Clink.
“Please calm yourself.”
My smile widened despite myself.
Who comforts someone like this?
Like someone who had never comforted another person before.
Strangely enough, my previously uneven breathing slowly became steady.
“Th-Thank you. It’s nice… feeling someone’s warmth.”
Sir Dylan’s wavering gaze rested on me.
He set the rattles down.
Then, with a resolute expression, he spoke gravely.
“…Very well.”
Before I could ask what he meant—
His rough hand lightly took hold of my fingertips.
The coarse skin brushing against my soft hand sent a subtle warmth spreading through me.
“I have heard that human warmth helps stop trembling. Do you… require more?”
