Once more, the chilly breeze swept through, delicately tousling Ingrid's silver locks. Her eyes and nose showed faint signs of swelling, possibly from the biting cold or recent tears. Caym's gaze shifted momentarily to the curve of Ingrid's neckline.
"I cannot tell what he is thinking," Ingrid thought.
Caym loosened the buttons of his coat, exposing his strong broad chest beneath the dark, long-sleeved shirt he wore.
Ingrid's eyes expanded in surprise. "W-what are you doing?" she inquired, cautiously taking a small step backward.
"The night is chilly, Your Highness," Caym replied, removing his coat.
"Well? Why are you removing your coat? I assume you don't have an alternative method in mind for keeping yourself warm?" Ingrid questioned.
"Is he planning to give that to me?" Ingrid thought. "Why?"
He extended his coat toward Ingrid. "I'm not sure what's on your mind, but this is for you," he stated.
