Right after the tense situation ended with that insane Khalid fleeing.

I think I collapsed and fell asleep before I even had the chance to savor the victory.

It was inevitable. My body was so exhausted and riddled with pain that I couldn’t stay awake any longer.

Not that that wretched Khalid’s fists had dealt any fatal blow to my body.

But the sheer amount of energy I had to squeeze out to block or dodge his strikes had severely stimulated my slightly damaged core, causing immense pain.

I had no choice but to shut down my consciousness, like a magic device whose power had been forcibly turned off, just to suppress that pain.

Whenever I lose consciousness in this way, for some reason, my dreams are always chaotic.

Maybe it’s because even if my body tries to forget the pain, my mind refuses to let go of the memories.

In any case, in situations like this, I almost always end up having nightmares.

And they come in all kinds of varieties.

Sometimes, I find myself reliving my childhood, drifting through the orphanage with a sense of abandonment.

Other times, I face the days when I ran away from the orphanage out of sheer insecurity and survived with my fists in the back alleys.

Then, there are the memories of being dragged around by the former lord of the sword mansion, his golden eyes flashing like a wild beast’s, his gaze utterly revolting.

Most of the nightmares end the same way—me, clad in a steel mask, wandering the hellish battlefield.

But until the heavy weight on my chest woke me up this time, I didn’t suffer through any nightmares.

I felt good. I had secretly worried that I might fall into a restless sleep after rescuing Aslin from such a dangerous situation, but waking up without a nightmare brought me relief.

Was it because of this comforting weight pressing down on my upper body that I was spared those nightmares?

‘No way.’

Though my eyes were still closed, a faint smile spread across my lips as I immediately dismissed the thought.

…But what exactly is this weight?

Well, it shouldn’t be hard to find out—I just have to open my eyes.

As I cleared my thoughts and slowly opened my eyes, the first thing I saw was a ceiling I was gradually becoming familiar with.

‘The bedroom. The one where I fell asleep with Aslin.’

It seemed that after I collapsed, someone had tended to me and brought me here once everything had calmed down.

The next thing to check, of course, was the source of this weight pressing on my chest.

Still lying down, I slightly lifted my head and looked down—and immediately understood.

“…”

I barely managed to stifle the gasp that threatened to escape.

Lying atop my upper body was a shimmering blue ocean.

Even in the dim light, the soft waves of that ocean gleamed beautifully, reflecting the light in a mesmerizing dance.

I didn’t need to think long to figure out what that ocean was, or who it belonged to.

“…Aslin.”

Carefully, so as not to wake her, I softly whispered the name of the ocean’s owner, my lips fighting to suppress a smile that naturally formed as I spoke her name.

How could I not laugh?

Just from the scene, it was easy to tell. It was one of those common sights—someone taking care of a patient, eventually succumbing to their own exhaustion and resting their body against the bed. A frequent sight, yes, but there were subtle details here that refused to let it remain ordinary.

“Honestly...”

Who falls asleep while taking care of someone sick and rests their body ’on’ the patient?

In typical situations, caregivers would be cautious not to burden or disturb the person they’re watching over. At most, they might rest just their forehead against the edge of the bed, trying to minimize any impact on the patient.

Some would even avoid that, sitting upright with crossed arms, only slightly nodding their head forward as they doze off, all to avoid causing any discomfort.

But Aslin was fast asleep in a way that was far removed from any usual form of caregiving.

Not that it caused me any pain or discomfort. In fact, no, it wasn’t uncomfortable at all—quite the opposite. It provided warmth and comfort, which was a great help to me.

Yet, no matter how comforting it was, the absurdity of the scene couldn’t be ignored, and stifling the laughter that threatened to escape became the first task I undertook upon waking.

####

The first task ended almost too quickly.

I was barely managing to hold back my laughter when something came to mind.

“...Who’s taking care of whom here?”

It hit me that Aslin, who had suffered a more direct blow from Khalid than I did, was the one taking care of me.

To be honest, given Aslin’s level of skill, it was a relief that the worst she had suffered was some injuries and unconsciousness from his sudden counterattack.

If it had been any other ordinary fighter, the moment Khalid unleashed that hidden force, they would’ve been blown to pieces, leaving no trace behind.

While I was relieved, I couldn’t help but worry too. She looked fine on the surface, but there could be serious internal damage, perhaps even harm to her core. That thought gnawed at me.

I carefully tried to sit up. Even though I moved with caution, the results weren’t perfect, but fortunately, Aslin didn’t wake up as I rose from the bed.

Back during the succession war, even though it wasn’t my intention, when I tried to approach her while wearing the iron mask to assassinate her, no matter how much I masked my presence, she would instantly sense my approach, even before I touched her.

“….”

But now, even as I moved and our bodies were brushing against each other, there was no response. That alone was enough to show how poor Aslin’s current condition was.

“Sigh…”

Idiot. Instead of wasting time trying not to laugh, I should’ve laid her down on the bed. But I got so caught up in the ridiculous sight that I just stood there laughing.

After internally cursing myself, I carefully began to shift Aslin’s body, preparing to lay her back down on the bed.

As I rose to my feet, my body, which I had forced to move by circulating energy beyond its limits, creaked and screamed at me to stop, but I ignored the protest and approached Aslin from behind.

Even back in the days when I roamed the back alleys without knowing a proper breathing technique to circulate mana, I had survived through injuries and exhaustion far worse than this. Back then, I often pretended I was fine, forcing my body to move just to stay alive.

And now here I was, in a situation that wasn’t even life-threatening, whining about moving a bit. Have I grown soft because I haven’t faced real hardship in a while?

It seems once my core fully recovers, I’ll need to train even harder—both in mana circulation and physical endurance.

I should toughen up this body that dares to complain about such trivialities, even in moments like these.

As I sorted through these thoughts in my mind, I cautiously reached out and grabbed Aslin’s underarms. Even though my body ached, I managed to hold her carefully without waking her from her slumber.

I noticed something yesterday, when I carried her after she passed out from drinking.

Her body was much lighter than I expected.

It was only natural, considering the biological differences between men and women.

But recalling her superhuman feats on the battlefield and her tireless energy, the lightness of her body in my arms felt strangely unbalanced.

By a woman’s standards, she was on the taller side, but still smaller than me. Her frame was petite enough that I could probably lift her by the nape of her neck with one hand if I tried.

And even though I was trying to avoid physical contact, the soft texture of her body was impossible to ignore as my hands carefully held her underarms.

‘...What the hell is wrong with me?’

That’s the kind of thought I need to get rid of.

How could I be thinking about the curves of the person who nursed me back to health, instead of caring for her properly? What kind of twisted state of mind am I in?

Cursing myself inwardly, I gently laid Aslin down on the bed and pulled the blanket up to cover her body, tucking it under her chin.

-Ssshhh Ssshhh

Contrary to my worries, her steady breathing confirmed that her condition was better than mine, even when I lifted her briefly.

Despite Khalid’s brutal strike, she had protected herself with light armor and managed to deflect the blow at the last moment. It was almost hard to believe she had taken a hit at all.

Maybe it’s because she’s inherited the blood of the dragonslayers like the late emperor, passed down through the Caladbolg family, with their bodies as tough as steel?

My late brother often lamented how, while our swordsmanship could stand on equal footing with theirs, we could never match the sheer physical strength that came from their bloodline.

Well, back during the succession war, when we had to cross blades, there wasn’t much we could do but marvel at their resilience.

Now, though, having become bound to one of the direct descendants of that sword-blooded family, even if only in name...

“Thank goodness you’re okay.”

Relief washed over me as I gazed at my partner, sleeping soundly without a scratch.

When I first set foot in this mountain of swords as a son-in-law, I thought I was stepping into a den of monsters.

I’ve only spent about two days here, but my thoughts are slowly starting to change.

Perhaps it’s because, even though we clashed swords for political reasons, I find myself under the care of a respectable opponent who understood honor and duty as a human being. Maybe that’s why my perspective is shifting, even if only slightly.

It’s not something I’ll get an immediate answer to, but I should take my time and try to reflect on it.

Despite having only just woken up and not moved much, I could feel my eyes growing heavy again.

“…I should sleep some more.”

Aside from my weakened body due to the damage to my core, I didn’t want to resist the logical and instinctual need for more rest. So, I quietly moved to the corner of the bed where Aslin was already sound asleep and lay down to doze off again.

I briefly considered leaving the bed for her, giving her the whole space while I either slept leaning against the floor or sat in the chair she had used earlier, watching over her. But when I remembered how Aslin had pouted at me earlier that morning for not sleeping in the bed, I figured it was better to just lie down properly.

Honestly, I couldn’t help but think how adorable she looked with her cheeks puffed out slightly, gazing at me. The thought of seeing that expression again was tempting.

But the more she made that face, the more I realized it was her way of showing discontent, so I restrained myself.

Still, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to sit in the chair where she had been sitting a moment ago, where her warmth still lingered...

‘What the hell is wrong with me?’

I quickly stopped that thought before I did something as ridiculous as slapping myself. I closed my eyes and forced myself to calm down.

Since last night, whenever I’ve faced or thought about Aslin, strange thoughts have been invading my mind.

When I wake up, I’ll need to be extra careful not to... fall... into... such... traps...

·

·

·

·

-Shhhh—Shhhh

-Hooo—Hooo

In the quiet bedroom, where only two people slept, the rhythm of their steady breathing echoed.

-Shhhh

A delicate, feminine breath.

-Hooo

Followed by a slightly stronger, masculine one.

Though it was just breathing, their sounds harmonized in the serene space, creating a peaceful symphony.

“….”

The owner of the soft breath, who had been sound asleep just moments ago, slowly stirred and sat up.

Her movements, though simple, caused her neatly arranged hair to shimmer and flow gracefully. Had anyone been watching, they might have sighed in awe at the beauty of the scene.

But the woman whose hair created such a mesmerizing image wasn’t done showing that the beauty she possessed wasn’t limited to her hair.

“….”

Without uttering a word, her slightly half-opened green eyes softened into a gentle curve, radiating warmth.

Her lips, barely moving, didn’t hold much meaning by themselves, but when paired with her graceful appearance, they conveyed a shy tenderness—so much so that no painting or sculpture could capture the same delicacy.

Yet, all of this, as picturesque as it was, seemed incomplete until Aslin Blath Caladbolg, the woman in question, tenderly reached out with her right hand, placing it on the sleeping man’s cheek beside her.

In that instant, the scene turned from a mere sketch into a finished masterpiece.

And even that masterpiece paled in comparison to what came next.

“Thank you…”

With her voice filled to the brim with both shyness and gratitude, Aslin’s soft words completed the warm, living work of art before her.

A living, breathing masterpiece.

There could be no better phrase to describe the current Aslin than that.