Teresia was bawling her eyes out, sniffling and wiping snot and tears all over Derek’s clothes. He’d lost count of how many times he’d been utterly flustered tonight.
This little cabbage had taken advantage of him—how dare she cry?!
What about him, the one who’d suffered a blood loss deal? Who could he cry to?
Besides, weren’t healers supposed to be soothing? Since when did they switch to chaotic alignment?
Right now, stopping Teresia’s tears was priority one.
But how to calm this crybaby?
*Girls need sweet-talking. Just be gentle, and it’ll be fine.*
Could his mouth even manage that?
He feared one wrong word would send her spiraling into full meltdown.
"Waaah…"
As if answering his thoughts, the ignored crybaby dissolved into a puddle of tears all alone.
If Derek were just spectating, he’d find it hilarious.
But up close? This sobbing girl was… annoying.
After racking his brain, Derek realized he had zero solutions.
He couldn’t control his own mouth—they had a communication barrier. No real dialogue possible.
Physical actions were fine, but what good did that do?
"Waaah…"
Here she went again.
Sighing, Derek raised his right hand and gently patted her back.
This was his absolute limit.
Meanwhile, high in the courtyard’s ancient tree, Xinzel watched—and a faint frown creased his brow…
…
Amid her sobs, Teresia felt a soft pat on her back. Her body stiffened, startled.
But soon she sensed no malice in the rhythm. Its warmth soothed her deeply.
Like… like her father’s broad, all-encompassing hand.
Teresia had lost her father young. *This must be how it felt.*
The steady pats calmed her racing heart. The tension melted away.
Peace returned—and curiosity about Derek sparked within her.
Since entering the room, she’d kept her head bowed, too timid to meet his eyes. Even her charge had been aimed by watching his feet.
Slowly, cautiously, she lifted her gaze…
*Wow.*
*So handsome!*
He looked like a prince stepped straight from a fairy tale.
Flawless pale skin, sharp jawline radiating cool intensity.
Eyes like a clear blue sky—deep, ethereal.
A straight nose, perfect lips, silver hair—all exuding noble grace.
Just standing there, he carried an aura of icy aloofness, an untouchable dominance no ordinary man could claim.
Stunned by his beauty, Teresia didn’t even notice her tears had stopped.
Derek’s gaze was cold yet clear—utterly free of the lecherous hunger she’d seen in other men.
*This is Young Master Derek?*
*Serving him… might not be so bad.*
A blush crept across her cheeks as the thought surfaced.
Derek felt his effort work. Teresia’s tears dried. She lifted her head, now silently studying him.
Normally, he’d savor such a close view of her delicate beauty, heart pounding.
But survival instincts screamed. Seeing her stare blankly at him only sparked irritation.
*What are you looking at?*
*Stop crying and get out!*
*Planning to "charge" me again?!*
He bit back the words. Past disasters taught him silence was safer.
That subtitle team had no morals. One misstep, and this crybaby would shatter again.
Gently, Derek patted Teresia’s delicate shoulder, then pointed firmly at the door—a clear "please leave."
Teresia blinked, confusion clouding her pretty face.
When he repeated the gesture, understanding dawned.
She loosened her grip, pointed at herself, then the door—*You mean me? Leave?*
Relief washed over Derek. He nodded gratefully.
*Finally. We communicated!*
Teresia took one hesitant step toward the door, then glanced back warily.
Another nod from Derek.
She grasped his instruction—but not his intent.
*Why send me away?*
Her puzzled frown deepened.
Derek shifted uncomfortably. Her expression screamed: *"I stripped down for this?!"*
What could he do?
*Fine. You’re half-dressed. Can’t just kick you out.*
He picked up her fallen maid uniform, carefully helped her back into it, and smoothed every wrinkle.
Teresia stood frozen, utterly bewildered, letting him fuss.
Once dressed, Derek pointed to the door again—*Go. Now.*
Dazed, Teresia shuffled out. The moment she crossed the threshold, the door clicked shut behind her.
Derek’s tension didn’t ease. Casually, he glanced at the silver mirror by the wall.
Only when he confirmed Xinzel had already left the tree did he finally exhale.
*Xinzel was definitely guarding Teresia.*
*Thank gods I survived.*
Living as a villain meant outwitting everyone: Kana, Duke Wudewen, Teresia, Xinzel, Witch Klodis… even that traitorous subtitle team!
*This life is exhausting.*
Derek collapsed backward onto the bed, drained to his core.
…
Teresia wandered the hallway in a daze, the closed door behind her no longer feeling ominous.
Her mind replayed every moment: the comforting hand on her back, Derek patiently dressing her, his fierce gaze, that breathtaking face.
A blush spread across her cheeks.
*Had she misunderstood him?*
*Was Young Master Derek… actually kind?*
*No—if he were kind, why did he yell at me?*
*How could he be so harsh?*
Resentment flared at the memory of his scolding.
But then… why had he been so gentle later?
His actions made no sense. Confusion tangled in her chest.
That night, the girl’s fear of Derek faded—replaced by a flicker of curiosity.
