It has now been a week since Jake was assigned to this location. To Klaire's surprise, it has remained quiet thus far, and she sincerely hopes that this tranquility continues.
Klaire carries a large basket filled with clothing that she crafted not long ago using the materials she had stored inside Bluey. Both Susan and Klaire assist in distributing the clothes to the villagers, some soldiers, and the elderly. With the cold season approaching, everyone is in need of additional warm clothing.
As Klaire reaches for the last piece of clothing, another hand unexpectedly lands on hers; it belongs to Jake. He instantly blushes, as his face tends to turn red at such moments. This reaction strikes Klaire as endearing, prompting a chuckle from her.
Klaire smiles and allows him the opportunity to distribute the final piece. While observing him, she notices that his winter glove is old and quite worn out.
"Jake?" she calls out.
Jake turns to her, responding, "Yes, Klaire"
Klaire tilts her head slightly and gestures toward his glove. "Your gloves seem a little dirty; would it be alright if I washed them? I'm heading to the stream to wash clothes anyway."
Jake smiles and quickly removes the glove. "Sure, I mean, thank you."
Klaire beams at him.
Upon returning to her tent, Klaire retrieves some leftover cloth and begins measuring the gloves. Jake has been immensely helpful to her, and as a gesture of gratitude, she wishes to create a new pair of gloves for him.
Meanwhile,as night approaches, Jake and some of his fellow knights swiftly mount their horses, preparing to report back to the Vexhart Military Campground. They are expected to return the following day.
"Wait!" Klaire calls out.
Jake turns back to her.
Klaire presents the new pair of gloves she has been working on throughout the day. "I just finished drying your gloves, and here, take these. It's a gift; I hope they help keep you warm."
Jake blushes again as he accepts the gloves, tucking them inside his shirt to avoid getting them dirty. "Thank you, Klaire."
The knights then ride off toward the Vexhart Military Campground.
Klaire overhears some girls murmuring behind her; they are assistants who have volunteered to assist.
"She's so thick-face, giving gloves to Sir Jake? Who does she think she is?" one girl whispers.
Another adds, "She's probably trying to get herself a husband; what a slut."
Klaire turns around and glares at the girls.
Susan, noticing Klaire's discomfort, smiles and pats her shoulder. "Don't mind them, Klaire. They're just immature."
Klaire lets out a snicker.
"By the way, giving a new pair of gloves to Jake—do you like him?" Susan teases.
Klaire quickly shakes her head. "No, Susan. Jake is a friend; I just wanted to express my gratitude."
Susan looks at her knowingly. "Do you realize that giving a glove to a man can imply romantic interest?"
"It's a misunderstanding," Klaire attempts to clarify.
Susan laughs as she makes her way toward the storage tent.
**Vexhart Military Campground**
The nurses carefully wrap the wound on Alaric's arm.
"Your Highness, please don't be so reckless next time. I understand it was unavoidable, but if something were to go wrong, I wouldn't know how to explain it to His Majesty," Hugon says with concern.
Prince Alaric gestures for the nurse to leave, standing up as he does so. "Hugon, this is just a minor injury. It'll heal in no time. In fact, I wish the wound were deeper; perhaps then it would feel as though I truly have a wound."
Hugon lowers his gaze. Following Prince Alaric's awakening, he had developed the ability to heal at an accelerated rate. Occasionally, he transforms into something no one would expect; only a few, including Hugon, His Majesty the Emperor, Dalton, and Theodric, are aware of his condition. Hugon understands that Prince Alaric is not an ordinary human; he is half-demon, and as a friend, Hugon cannot help but worry.
"Your Highness, the camp supervising teams have returned," a soldier announces.
Hugon places the reports onto Prince Alaric's table. As Prince Alaric reviews the documents, Hugon suggests, "Your Highness, why don't you take some time to rest while I handle the remainder of the tasks?"
Prince Alaric smiles at Hugon. "Will you do that for me?"
As Prince Alaric exits the tent, a particular name catches his attention.
"Her name was Klaire, right?" Bromar inquires.
Jake nods as he takes a drink.
"The one with black hair? Damm, she's quite beautiful; you're fortunate, Jake!" Garrick exclaims.
Jake responds, "We're not in that kind of relationship yet."
"Yet? That implies you might be in the future?" Garrick teases.
Jake blushes, replying, "Shut up, Garrick. Klaire probably doesn't see me that way."
Bromar wraps an arm around Jake's shoulder. "Come on, Jake. Have more confidence. She's a good catch, I'll tell you—"
Jake takes another sip of his drink.
"I guess I can start referring to her as sister-in-law now," Garrick jokes.
At that moment, Prince Alaric interrupts, "Mind if I join?"
Jake and his friends quickly tense up and stand to greet him.
Prince Alaric chuckles, "Sit down; here, we are all brothers."
Jake and the others gradually take their seats.
Prince Alaric gulps down a cup of drink.
Before long, the group finds themselves quite intoxicated.
Prince Alaric gazes into the fire and then asks Jake, "Where did you say you were assigned, Sir Jake?"
Jake, clearly inebriated, responds, "The Merithor Military Evacuation Camp, Your Highness," punctuating his statement with a hiccup.
Prince Alaric smiles and nods in acknowledgment. If he remembers correctly, Lunette was disguised as Klaire; surely, she wouldn't be here, would she? Prince Alaric takes another drink, amused by the thought of her presence.
----
Morning arrived, and Jake returned to the Merithor Military Evacuation Camp.
Although Jake should have felt happy, he was burdened by tension in his back. Disguised as a soldier, Prince Alaric trailed behind him. Prince Alaric had used his injuries as a pretext, coupled with the fact that Hugon was already concerned about him, to justify his trip to the Merithor Military Evacuation Camp. He was eager to discover the identity of this Klaire.
"Jake, you're back!" David exclaimed with a smile. "Come, have some breakfast before you head back to your duties."
Jake offered an uncomfortable smile and followed David to obtain some food.
As the soldiers and civilians settled down to enjoy their meals, Prince Alaric surveyed the area, quickly noting that Lunette was conspicuously absent. Alaric chuckled to himself, contemplating whether he had been overthinking the situation.
**Stream**
Klaire muttered to herself as she made her way toward the stream to wash her clothes. Although she had cleaned them the previous day, they had become dirty again by the time she woke up that morning. Klaire suspected that the girls from the day before were to blame, but without any proof, she did not want to create unnecessary drama.
As she washed the clothes, her frustration mounted, and she slammed the garments back into the basket. "Those brats! I didn't even do anything! How could they be so mean?! Why would they dirty the clothes when I didn't do anything wrong?" she shouted in exasperation.
Prince Alaric, who had been scanning the area, was suddenly drawn to the sound of her scream. Out of curiosity, he followed the voice, feeling bored from spending time with the soldiers.
Klaire pointed angrily at the sky, "You ridiculous novel! Why am I stuck here? Why in this wretched body? At least give me a better one! What is this?!" she screamed. "I hate everything!" She quickly sat down and continued washing her clothes, feeling the icy water. "Damn it, it's cold!" she feigned tears, lamenting her misfortune. "It's just a pair of gloves, and they're jealous over it!"
Prince Alaric halted in his tracks the moment he recognized the figure in front of him. Although she was seated, he knew exactly who she was.
Suddenly, the sound of a branch snapping broke the silence.
Klaire swiftly turned her attention to the noise, but there was nothing there—no one in sight.
Alaric, concealed behind the bushes near the stream, chuckled softly, "So, this was where you've been all this time?"
He remained hidden behind the foliage, out of her view as she continued her task of washing clothes.
Klaire resumed washing her garments but soon noticed that a piece of her clothing was drifting away. "NO!" she cried out, attempting to chase after it into the stream, but the water was far too cold. Internally, she wept as she watched the clothes float away.
As Klaire made her way back to the campground with her basket of clothes, she spotted Jake.
"You're washing clothes again?" Jake inquired.
"Yeah," Klaire replied.
"Let me help you," Jake offered, reaching for her basket.
Klaire felt a blush rise to her cheeks. "Wait!" she exclaimed, snatching it back. "Those are my—my private things."
Jake's face flushed as he realized the implication of her words.
Klaire laughed lightly. "Maybe next time."
Jake scratched his head in response. "Yeah, next time."
The day quickly became filled with activity.
Injured soldiers arrived one after another. Klaire, Susan, and the other volunteers moved busily from one location to another, hardly pausing for a moment of respite.
Klaire could hear the cries and see the blood of soldiers all around; the campground was increasingly resembling an emergency medical facility.
Despite the chaos, Klaire and her companions maintained their composure; this scene was becoming a familiar sight, and their primary objective was to ensure the soldiers received the care they needed to survive.
As Klaire entered the tent to gather some medicine, she checked on the boiling concoction and noticed a man with his head wrapped in white cloth, who was also watching the medicine brew. However, she dismissed him and focused on locating the supplies she required.
Suddenly, a noise came from behind her.
It appeared that the man had inadvertently burned himself.
Klaire quickly noticed and seized his hand to examine the injury, gently blowing on it. "Does it hurt a lot? Here, press your hand against your earlobe; it's a trick that helps," she advised.
The man remained silent.
Without a moment's hesitation, Klaire placed her hand over his assisting hand and guided it to his earlobe, asking, "How does it feel now?"
The man gazed at Klaire, clearly oblivious to the pain from his burn.
Klaire recognized the intensity of his stare and withdrew her hands, standing up while attempting to conceal her flushed cheeks.
"Are you alright?" Klaire inquired, her gaze directed toward the doorway.
As she slowly turned back to face him, there was still no response.
Upon turning, she realized the man had removed the cloth covering his face. Eric?
"Your Highness!" Jake exclaimed.
Klaire turned to Jake and then back to Eric, who she now understood was the Crown Prince. The surprise on her face was unmistakable. Although she had suspected that Eric might not be Eric, she certainly did not anticipate that he was the Crown Prince, the male lead of this damm novel!
Alaric smiled.
Klaire averted her gaze, wondering if he recognized her. If he did, why hadn't he revealed her identity? Perhaps he simply did not remember her; that must be the case.
"Thank you for the advice, Miss Klaire," Prince Alaric said, offering a smile in Klaire's direction.
Klaire's thoughts were interrupted, and she returned his smile while avoiding his eyes.
As Klaire observed Prince Alaric tending to the other soldiers and individuals, she found herself lost in thought. What's this feeling she's feeling? He did not seem to recognize her, not that she wished for him to, but there was a heavy weight on her heart. Should she be concerned? Just as she was about to collide with some containers, Jake intervened, his hand grabbing her waist.
Jake leaned closer to her and asked, "What is going on in your mind, Klaire? You look quite distracted. Did you want crash into those containers?"
Klaire suddenly became aware of the numerous containers and heavy loads in her path, and she laughed softly. "Thank you, Jake."
From a distance, Prince Alaric, who had been observing, felt his expression turn cold.
After a long day, Klaire changed into her nightwear and closed her eyes.
Then, she sensed it.
The presence of that force returned. Why had she been dreaming of this?
Unbeknownst to her, it was not merely a dream. Alaric stood before her, studying her face as he recalled the moment she laughed at Jake, a cold smile forming on his lips. As he approached Klaire, he gently caressed her fingers. Indeed, the ring was no longer there. Alaric turned to the pouch on the table, sensing the presence of the ring emanating from it. He chuckled, wondering how she had managed to remove it.
Alaric slowly guided Klaire's hand to his face, inhaling the delicate scent of her skin. As he caressed the finger where he had once placed the ring—now bare—he brought her finger to his mouth. If he could not keep the ring on her finger, he would leave a mark in its place. Alaric bit into her small finger, creating an impression around it that resembled a ring. He chuckled as he admired his handiwork, saying, "That looks more like it."
He caressed her face and whispered closely, "Lunette, do not smile at others; you belong to me...just as I belong to you."
Alaric's gaze traveled down her body and rested on her legs, where he placed his hands on her tiny feet. He recalled her running into the stream, trying to retrieve her clothes, and remarked, "It must have been cold." Slowly, he traced his hands from her feet up toward her thighs.
Klaire unknowingly let out a soft moan.
Alaric smiled and then gently rose to kiss her forehead, caught up in a moment he could hardly comprehend.