Anastasia let Dante inside her room before someone would catch them alone, which would only fuel them to spread another rumour on top of the one already floating around. Once he got inside, she closed the door to hear it click. Since the room didn't contain a table, they sat on the edge of the bed.
"Let me help," Anastasia offered when she saw him open the wooden box and pick up a bottle that contained a transparent gel. She said, "My hand isn't hurting that much—Ah!"
She winced, feeling pain shoot up from the back of her hand when Dante placed a single finger on top of it.
Dante held an unamused expression as he looked at her. He reprimanded her,
"If you cannot take care of yourself, you are unfit to care for anyone else. This includes my sister." She heard the cork being unplugged from the bottle. "My hands are used to such activities and aren't frail. You didn't have to punch him."
