The next morning, Emily woke up to a sharp ache in her right wrist. The bruises from last night's struggle were beginning to show.
"Ouch..." she muttered, trying to move her hand. The pain made her wince.
[System Prompt: Host, you're injured! This is the perfect opportunity to trigger the male lead's sympathy!]
I know, Emily replied mentally. But I'm not going to fake an illness just to get pity.
[System Prompt: You don't have to fake anything! You're genuinely hurt!]
While Emily was inspecting her wrist, a knock came from the door.
"Miss Emily," came the maid's voice, "the Duke of Montfort is here to see you."
"Edmund?" Emily blinked, surprised. "This early?"
"Yes, Miss. He said he wanted to make sure you were unharmed after last night."
Emily quickly got out of bed, but the sudden movement tugged at her wrist again, causing her to let out an involuntary hiss of pain.
"I'll be right down," she said, trying to suppress the discomfort.
In the sitting room, Edmund was already speaking with William. Dressed in a sleek riding outfit, he looked striking as always—but his eyes carried a hint of worry.
"Duke of Montfort," Emily greeted as she descended the stairs, "you're up early."
"I was concerned about your condition after last night," Edmund said frankly. "I came to make sure you're alright."
"I'm fine," Emily replied quickly, instinctively hiding her right hand behind her back.
But Edmund noticed. His eyes narrowed slightly.
"What happened to your hand?" he asked, concern in his voice.
"It's nothing," she said. "Just a little sore."
"Let me see," Edmund stepped toward her.
"Really, it's not a big—" Before she could finish, he had already gently taken her hand in his.
When he saw the deep bruise around her wrist, his expression darkened.
"Those bastards," he muttered. "They actually hurt you."
"It's just a bruise," Emily said, trying to downplay it. "No need to overreact."
"This is not minor," Edmund said. "It needs proper treatment."
"Treatment? But it's just—"
"Every injury should be treated seriously," Edmund interrupted. He turned to William. "Please send someone to fetch a doctor."
"There's really no need—" Emily protested.
"You may think it's minor," Edmund said, "but I don't."
"Fine," she sighed. "But can we skip the doctor part? Maybe... just some ointment?"
"At least let me tend to it first," Edmund said. "Please, sit down."
"You know how to treat injuries?" Emily asked, curious.
"Every knight must learn basic field medicine on the battlefield," Edmund replied.
She sat down on the sofa, and Edmund carefully examined her wrist.
"Does it hurt?" he asked as he lightly pressed around the bruise.
"A little," Emily admitted.
"I'm sorry," he said, softening his touch.
William soon returned with a tray of ointments and clean bandages. Edmund took them, applying the salve with delicate precision.
"Your hands are warm," Emily noted. "And very steady."
"Thank you," Edmund said. "Your hand is quite small."
"I always thought they were too small," Emily said.
"Why would you think that?"
"Because in... uh, in my imagination," she quickly corrected herself, "independent women are supposed to have strong, capable hands."
"I think your hands are beautiful," Edmund said, "and soft."
Emily watched him as he applied the bandage. A strange warmth bloomed in her chest.
"Edmund," she asked quietly, "why are you being so kind to me?"
His fingers paused.
"Because… because you're my friend," he said after a moment. "And friends look after each other, don't they?"
"But would you do this for any friend?" she asked.
"Any friend?" Edmund repeated. He thought for a moment. "I don't really have any others."
"None?"
"Not really. I have allies, colleagues, vassals… but no one I'd call a friend."
"So I'm your first?"
"Yes," he said, meeting her eyes. "You're my first friend."
"Then," Emily said with a playful smile, "you really should take good care of me."
"Why?"
"Because first friends are rare treasures. They should be cherished."
Edmund looked at her, his expression unreadable for a moment.
"Yes," he said softly. "They should be."
He finished the bandaging with great care, tying a neat knot and gently letting go of her hand.
"Your technique is really impressive," Emily remarked. "Better than a lot of the nurses I've seen."
"Nurses?" Edmund echoed, unfamiliar with the term.
"Uh… people who take care of the sick," she quickly explained.
"I see," Edmund said. "I just didn't want to see you in pain."
"Thank you," Emily said, her voice sincere. "You're... very gentle."
"Gentle?" Edmund looked puzzled by the word.
"Yes," she smiled. "You may seem cold on the outside, but you're really quite gentle inside."
"I'm not cold," he said. "Just... cautious."
"Cautious?"
"In my position, I have to be. If I seem too soft, people might take advantage of it."
"But you don't need to be cautious with me," Emily said. "I would never use you."
"I know," Edmund said quietly. "That's why I feel... comfortable around you."
"Comfortable?" she echoed.
"Yes. When I'm with you, I don't have to be the Duke. I can just be Edmund."
She looked at him, touched more deeply than she expected.
"I'm honored," she said, "to know the real Edmund."
"You don't find him boring?"
"Boring?" Emily laughed. "You're the most interesting person I've ever met."
"Truly?" He still seemed skeptical.
"Truly," she said. "You're intelligent, brave, responsible... and surprisingly good at taking care of people."
Edmund had finished the bandage, but didn't let go of her hand just yet.
"Emily," he said, "may I ask you something?"
"Of course," she said.
"Why are you always so optimistic? Even when things go wrong, you still smile."
"Because anger and worry never fix anything," Emily said. "And there's always something to be happy about."
"Like what?"
"Like right now," she smiled. "I'm injured, but I have a friend who's taking care of me. That's something to smile about, isn't it?"
He looked at her again, and something stirred within him—something foreign, and frightening, and warm.
"Yes," he said. "It is."
Just then, the doctor arrived. After examining the injury and seeing it already expertly treated, he simply nodded.
"Very well bandaged. It'll heal in a few days."
"Thank you, Doctor," Emily said politely.
Once the doctor had left, Edmund remained seated beside her.
"Are you sure that's the only injury?" he asked.
"Yes," Emily smiled. "Just the wrist."
"Good," Edmund said. "But if anything else feels off, you must tell me immediately."
"I will," she said. "But you don't have to worry so much."
"I can't help it," he replied. "When I saw you hurt last night, I felt…"
"What did you feel?"
"Anger," he said. "And fear."
"Fear?"
"Yes," he said quietly. "I was afraid you'd be seriously harmed."
"But you came," Emily said. "You saved me."
"What if I hadn't?" he asked.
"But you did," she said, reaching for his hand. "That's what matters."
"I want more," he said. "I want to make sure you never get hurt again."
"You can't protect me forever," she said softly.
"Why not?"
Emily stared at him, her heart beginning to pound.
"Because… we're just friends."
"Friends," Edmund repeated. "Yes. Friends."
But something about the way he said it didn't feel quite like friendship.
"Emily," he said after a pause, "I'd like to make a promise."
"What kind of promise?"
"From now on," he said, "I'll come check on you every morning—to make sure you're safe."
"Every day?" she was stunned. "Aren't you busy?"
"Nothing is more important than your safety."
"Edmund," she said softly, "do you really consider me an important friend?"
"Yes," he said. "A very important one."
"Then," she smiled, "I'll do my best to be a good friend to you, too."
"Thank you," Edmund said. "That means more to me than you know."
They sat there in quiet companionship.
"Edmund," she said suddenly, "are you hungry?"
"A little."
"Then let's have breakfast together," she said. "I want to share my favorite foods with you."
"I'd like that," he smiled.
During breakfast, Emily noticed him watching her closely.
"What are you looking at?" she asked.
"Just making sure your wrist isn't bothering you," he said.
"You're incredibly attentive," she said. "Now I understand why you manage such a vast estate so well."
"Managing a domain and caring for a friend are very different things," Edmund replied. "This... is more personal."
"So I'm a special case?"
"Yes," he said. "A very special one."
Emily looked at him, her chest filled with a feeling she didn't yet know how to name.
"Edmund," she said. "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For making me feel... cherished. It's a lovely feeling."
"You should always be cherished," Edmund said. "Anyone who knows you should treat you that way."
"But no one ever has," Emily said softly. "Except you."
"Then let me continue," Edmund said. "Let me be the one who does."
Emily stared at him, heart fluttering.
Maybe, just maybe, the system had been right.
Not because fate demanded it—but because she was starting to care for him, too.
[System Prompt: Host! The male lead's care for you has clearly surpassed the boundaries of friendship!]
I can feel it, Emily replied silently. He's truly kind to me.
[System Prompt: Keep going! Let him feel that you need his care!]
No need to pretend, she thought. I really do need it. And... I'm starting to enjoy it.
When Edmund finally left, Emily stood by the window watching his carriage disappear down the road.
"Sister," William came up beside her. "The Duke is really good to you."
"Yes," Emily said softly. "He's a very good friend."
"Just a friend?" William asked.
"For now," Emily said. "But maybe…"
"Maybe what?"
"Maybe someday it could be more," she whispered. "If he wants it to be."
"I think he does," William said confidently. "A man doesn't treat just any friend like that."
Emily looked at the fading trail of dust behind the carriage wheels, a gentle smile on her lips.
Maybe William was right.
Maybe Edmund's feelings for her weren't just friendly anymore.
And maybe, just maybe—she was starting to hope.