TGDHC Chapter 94

Chapter 94 – “Hold Me”:

Late at night, Loic finally finished work and returned to his bedroom.

After washing up, it was nearly midnight.

‘Annette must be asleep by now…’

His body was tired, but his mind restless. He leaned on the sofa in the sitting room when he heard small footsteps hurrying down the corridor.

Immediately, Loic sat up and opened the door. Annette was just about to knock, hand raised midair. She froze like a startled rabbit, her wide eyes meeting his.

“How did you know I was here?” she asked.

“Did you forget I’m a Swordmaster?” Loic smiled faintly.

Her eyes flicked down toward his chest. His robe was loosely tied, showing his bare muscles. Annette’s cheeks turned pink. Instead of fixing his robe, Loic instinctively flexed his chest a little harder.

It reminded him of that morning, when he had pretended to be asleep after Annette woke up beside him. He remembered her poking his chest curiously and whispering in awe, “Wow… it’s really hard.”

That one line had shaken him more than he cared to admit.

Back to the present—Annette fussed, closing his robe properly.

“Even if it’s summer, you’ll catch a cold like that.”

“…Th-thank you,” Loic muttered awkwardly, throat dry.

He tried to regain his composure. “But it’s late. Why aren’t you sleeping?”

She held up a small box in her hands. “Come sit down.”

Loic followed her to the sofa. She tapped the space beside her, and when he sat, she grabbed his hand.

“Show me your hand.”

He blinked, but let her pull up his sleeve. Scratches from the restraints he’d worn the day before were still red and irritated.

“Did Whitley tell you?” Loic sighed. Clearly the butler had reported it.

Annette opened the box, took out ointment, and began to carefully rub it on his wrist. She even blew softly on the wounds, which made him flinch.

“Does it hurt?” she asked quickly.

“No,” he said, though his voice was strained.

“Even if it hurts, you’ll just have to endure it. This is your punishment for ignoring treatment.”

Her lips were pursed in concentration, pink and moist. Loic found himself staring, wondering how it might feel to touch them.

He quickly distracted himself by asking, “You seem close with your brother.”

“Raphael?” Annette brightened. “Yes, I… well, it’s been so long since I saw him.”

She blushed. “Isn’t he adorable?”

“…He is,” Loic answered automatically.

But in his mind, he thought she was adorable. The way her hair brushed her face, the little crinkle of her nose—it made his heart ache.

She finished wrapping his wrist neatly with a bandage.

“All done.”

Loic hesitated. He didn’t want her to leave. Should I ask her to stay?

But before he could speak, Annette turned and said softly, “Loic.”

He cleared his throat nervously. “…Yes?”

“…Should I hug you?” she whispered.

“…What?”

“You said contact with me makes the pain less. We’ve held hands a lot, but maybe a hug would be more effective.” She ducked her head, cheeks flushed.

Loic’s heart exploded with joy.

This… I’ve dreamed of hearing this, but never thought it possible.

Trying not to appear too eager, he said firmly and clearly:

“Please… hold me.”

Annette looked startled that he agreed so easily. Silence fell between them, the soft lamplight glowing in her eyes.

Slowly, Loic reached out, pulled her closer, and wrapped his arms carefully around her.

At once, the mana within him surged and steadied. Warmth spread through his body, intense but soothing.

He held back the desire to crush her against him, instead hugging gently so she wouldn’t feel trapped.

At first, she was stiff, but soon her small hands moved. They slid from his chest down to rest shyly at his waist, clutching lightly.

The tiny gesture sent shivers racing through him.

He stroked her hair slowly, savoring the moment. Their heartbeats pounded together.

‘Just being like this with Annette makes me happy,’ he thought.

‘But… does she feel the same? Does she like me even a little?’

Jealous thoughts surfaced—surely in the capital many young noblemen had admired her. He only hoped he wasn’t far from her type.

So he hugged her a little tighter, wishing the moment would never end.

Meanwhile, in the annex’s tearoom, Annette sat with her stepmother, the Marchioness of Fasie.

The Marchioness’s tone was sharp despite the servants nearby.

“Isn’t this too much? You confine me to this tiny annex and forbid me from leaving the garden? How can I endure such suffocation?”

Annette forced a polite smile. “Oh my, have you ever actually seen a mouse’s tail?”

“You insolent girl!” the Marchioness snapped, raising her cup harshly—then faltered when her eyes met Leta’s, the knight standing nearby. She carefully set the cup down instead.

“I’m not joking,” Annette said calmly.

“You’re treating us like hostages, aren’t you?” the Marchioness accused.

“You’ve understood perfectly,” Annette replied smoothly.

Her stepmother’s face turned red.

“How could you change so much just from getting married? Are you really Annette?”