It Seems Like The Infamous Trash Can is Right Here! - Chapter 5
Fighting the urge to step back, I kept my gaze fixed on his chest and stood quietly.
His red eyes swept down the hall briefly before returning to me.
“It seems you’ve just come from seeing Vivian.”
“Yes, she seemed a bit fatigued.”
After a short hesitation, I looked up at him and spoke.
“I was thinking that it might be better for her to take a tonic prescribed by her physician rather than relying solely on divine power.”
“Have you eaten?”
See? He clearly wasn’t interested in his sister’s health.
Swallowing a sigh, I replied with a polite smile.
“If you mean lunch, yes, I’ve already eaten.”
“Good. I haven’t yet, so let’s head to the dining room together.”
Now, my fingers were trembling for an entirely different reason.
As I met his gaze, the urge to punch him crossed my mind—maybe not his face, though.
I guessed that no matter what I said, he wouldn’t take it to heart, so I turned aside, feigning ignorance of the hand he’d extended to me.
Did he even know who I was or where I came from? Offering his hand to escort a priest like this—was he serious?
As head of House Luanax, he certainly couldn’t be unfamiliar with decorum.
“Priestess.”
His voice, suddenly colder, dropped onto the top of my head.
Startled, I looked up. He tilted his head and offered his hand again.
His expression was softer than before, but I wasn’t fooled; I vividly remembered that face when he’d inquired about the family of our monastery’s director.
“It would be serious if you missed a step and got hurt.”
Was that a threat to push me down the stairs if I didn’t take his hand?
Reluctantly, I placed my hand on his, and he took it as if it were his own, entwining our arms.
“Shall we?”
The warmth and firmness of his body pressed against my arm, solid as heated iron.
“….?”
The heat made me wonder if he might be running a fever, and I found myself studying his complexion anew.
As expected, Lionel had made preparations in advance; two place settings were already laid out when we arrived at the dining room.
“Please, take a seat.”
As I sat in the chair he pulled out for me, I rubbed my arm, prickling with goosebumps, and shot a quick, furtive glare at the back of his head.
Just one or two seconds.
That was all it took to notice the bloodstain on his shirt, visible where his vest didn’t quite cover his shoulder.
“Your Grace, you’re injured?”
Startled, I stood up, and he turned to look at me after handing his jacket to a servant, raising an eyebrow as if to ask how I’d noticed.
“Right here….”
I pointed to my own shoulder, and he frowned slightly.
“Ah… just a scratch.”
A scratch wouldn’t bleed like that. It looked as though he’d even wrapped it in bandages.
Realizing the faint scent of blood from earlier hadn’t been my imagination left me momentarily speechless.
“It’s nothing. You don’t need to worry.”
Whatever he interpreted from my expression, he slipped his jacket back over his shoulder and sat down.
“Are you sure you don’t want treatment?”
Honestly, it seemed that Lionel needed a healing priest’s help far more than Vivian did.
But he didn’t seem to think so in the least.
“It’s already been taken care of.”
Fine, he’d applied a coagulant and wrapped it with bandages. I knew that was probably all he’d done.
I also knew that unless someone’s life was in danger or they’d lost a limb, people rarely bothered a healing priest.
But here I was, right next to him—a priest with little else to do and earning a high salary.
It was baffling why he wouldn’t ask for help.
“…Alright.”
What else could I say if he didn’t want it? However deep or long-lasting the wound might be, he would handle it on his own.
For some reason, a strange sense of discomfort settled over me, and throughout the meal, I avoided looking his way, focusing solely on the food.
…Or rather, I should say I devoured it with enthusiasm.
After all, it was real food—something I hadn’t had in years after eating thin gruel at the monastery.
