Viktor stopped abruptly, turning around.

"Give me those." He gestured at the bundle in Mira's arms.

She blinked, confused and flustered at suddenly being the center of his attention again. "My lord?"

"Your hands are full. I'll carry your things." Viktor shifted Toby slightly, extending his free hand.

Mira's heart squeezed in her chest. 'A noble… carrying my things?' She'd expected orders, not help. That small warmth from earlier spread, mixing with embarrassment until she didn't know what to do with her own feelings.

'He saved Toby… now he's carrying our life on his shoulder and our junk in his hand… what sort of person does that?'

Helena watched too, her lips twitching into a soft, proud smile. 'See?' she thought smugly, chest rising a little higher. 'This is my young master. The same one who calls this place a shithole, but still picks up a widow's trash without blinking.'

Mira hesitated, then handed over the small pile—the blanket, the jar, that wooden piece wrapped in cloth.

Her fingers brushed his for a brief moment. The contact sent a strange jolt through her, and she snatched her hand back a little too quickly, cheeks burning.

Viktor tucked everything under his arm with Toby, deliberately not thinking about what was pressed against his side. 'Just a stick. Just a massage stick. Not a sinful, lonely-night dildo. Nope.'

"Let's move faster," he muttered, turning back toward the manor.

The walk felt eternal.

Mira followed a step behind now, fingers nervously twisting in the hem of her dress, mind a chaotic mix of fear of the bandits returning, worry for Toby… and that ridiculous flutter whenever the young lord moved without hesitation for her sake.

'He didn't mock me once.' 'Not my hut, not my clothes, not Toby. Even carried our things himself… what kind of noble does that?'

Helena, on the other hand, walked straighter than usual, shoulders relaxed, pride almost radiating off her.

'I chose right coming with him,' she thought, glancing at Viktor's back. 'Even if he's lewd and do it like a beast, he still steps in front of crying women and sick kids without thinking twice.'

That warm admiration only made her more protective, more willing to glare at any shadow that moved wrong near them.

And Viktor… Viktor was trying to use that chivalry as a shield for his sanity. 'Carry the kid, carry the bundle, look straight ahead, think about herbs, wells, water, system, aura—'

Ahead, the path dipped, then rose. The ground was uneven, broken by dry roots and loose stones.

"Careful, it's—" Helena started, but Mira's foot had already caught on a half-buried rock.

She stumbled forward with a soft yelp. Her hands flew down to grab her skirt, clutching the thin fabric in a death grip to keep from falling on her face.

The sudden jerk yanked the back of the dress up higher than she realized.

From Viktor's angle, turning at the sound—he saw it.

For one split second, the firelight from the burning hut and the faint moon combined just right. The back of Mira's dress had hitched up, the fabric caught between her clenched fingers, exposing the top of her ass crack where the cheeks started to divide.

Soft, pale flesh marked by a few faint bruises, the kind you get from too much work and not enough rest.

Time stopped.

Viktor's brain went blank.

Then everything rushed in at once. Heat sucker-punched his gut, his throat dried, and his mind screamed at itself.

'Nope. Absolutely not. That's a widow's ass crack, not some porn thumbnail, you degenerate.'

His foot slipped on loose dirt as he jerked his head away so hard his neck cracked. Toby bounced on his shoulder, and the bundle under his arm almost slipped.

Mira, mortified but not even knowing 'why' yet, hastily let go of her skirt and straightened. The dress fell back down, but her face was scarlet.

She could 'feel' that something shameful had nearly been on display, even if she didn't see his reaction.

'Please don't let him have seen anything…'

Helena did see. She saw Viktor's head whip away, saw the way his shoulders tensed, the way his ears turned red even in the dark.

Her lips pressed together to stop the laugh bubbling up.

Viktor cleared his throat, staring aggressively at a dead tree ahead as if it owed him money.

[ Awareness is shifting wildly between guilt and lust. '''(Non-Accessible Notification) ]

'Control,' he told himself. 'You're not some beast that jumps every time you see a hint of skin. …Okay, you 'are', but at least fake dignity in front of them.'

"Watch your step," he said, voice a touch higher than usual. "If you fall and break something, I don't have a spare herbs lying around."

"Y-yes, my lord," Mira mumbled, mortification and that strange warmth tangling together. His fussing over her safety only made her embarrassment worse and better at the same time.

Helena hid her smile, nodding as if the young master's concern was the most natural thing in the world.

Inside though, her chest swelled. 'He doesn't even realize how much he's doing for them already… the boy, the mother, this ruined village.'

Finally, the manor appeared through the darkness—crumbling stone walls, overgrown courtyard, candlelight flickering in a few windows.

Mira stopped dead.

Her mouth fell open as she stared at the structure looming before them. Even in disrepair, it was massive compared to anything she'd ever known. Broken windows, cracked pillars, and weeds taller than her waist still couldn't hide the bones of past grandeur.

'People actually lived here?' she thought, stunned. 'He lives here… alone?'

Her fingers tightened unconsciously around the hem of her dress again. For the first time since meeting him, the gap between their worlds stood in front of her in stone and shadow.

Behind her awe, that warmth deepened. He could have left her rotting in that hut and still called himself noble.

"How are you able to live here, young noble—"

'I am thinking the same...' Viktor's jaw clenched hard enough that Mira heard the grind of teeth. He didn't turn around.

"Helena." His voice came out tight, controlled. "Bring water. For both of them."

The sudden shift in his tone made both women flinch, like a door slamming in a quiet house. For Mira, it felt like reality snapping back after the shock of seeing the decayed manor.

For Helena, it was the familiar side of him—the young master swallowing his own frustration instead of letting it spill on others.

Helena recovered first, straightening her spine. "Yes, young master." There was no hesitation—only the calm efficiency of someone who'd been following those orders since his childhood, but beneath it a tiny, warm pulse of pride.

'He's exhausted, angry at everything… and still his first thought is water for them, ' Helena thought, her chest tightening, that even though she had seen so much, there was, in one corner, a strange pride that he really had a side she never knew. 'He won't even let himself complain in front of a starving woman and her child. '

Viktor's shoulders rose and fell with a slow breath. When he spoke again, the edge had dulled slightly, like a knife turned away from flesh. "I'm going to the garden. Need to gather some herbs for the boy's treatment."

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