"Ugh..."
After passing out, the next thing that Gray noticed was the ceiling.
It was not the guest room in the mansion.
The beams here were darker, banded with pale formation light, and the air smelled of crushed moon-lotus and boiled iron.
"The infirmary...?" he groaned, looking at his upper boy.
Someone had stripped the ruined coat off him and left his chest wrapped in stiff, cold bandages that pulled when he breathed.
He turned his head.
The princess was in the chair beside the bed.
Her spear leaned against the wall, and her hands were folded in her lap as if she had been waiting the entire time.
There was still a dark stain on the front of her robe where his mouth had been, meaning that she hadn't changed clothes.
Gray stared at her for a second longer than was usually polite.
"…You are still here."
She looked up at once, then tried to pretend she had not been watching him. chest.
