Cerys' face was a vivid shade of red as she kept her gaze fixed firmly on the ground, avoiding any glance at Mikhailis. She clutched the edge of her sword's scabbard tightly, as though it could anchor her in place and help her forget the events from just minutes ago. Mikhailis, on the other hand, was strolling beside her with an amused grin, clearly enjoying her flustered state.
"You know, if your face gets any redder, the villagers might think you're a Crockapite about to lay an egg," he teased, his voice light and playful.
Cerys whipped her head toward him, her eyes narrowing, but her blush only deepened.
"Can you not?!" she snapped, though her voice wavered slightly, betraying her embarrassment.
Mikhailis chuckled, reaching out to gently take her hand. She stiffened at the contact, her eyes widening in surprise, but she didn't pull away. Instead, she allowed the gesture, finding an unexpected comfort in his warm grasp.
