342 A Truce

Tilla heaved a shaky breath when Vincent didn’t back away from his current position. She was basically trapped in between his arms.

Though Vincent wasn’t even touching Tilla in any way, Tilla felt a sensation that was like a mix of itch and tickle on her neck as his cold breath was constantly brushing against it.

‘Why is he doing this to me? Just leave me alone, please!’ Tilla clenched her jaw and held her breath. Her heartbeat was now beating so fast that she was sure he could hear it drumming in her chest. So, she leaned to her side, away from Vincent, as slowly as she could.

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However, she jumped a little when Vincent suddenly brought his face in front of hers and looked deep into her dark brown eyes.

“W-What?” she stammered.

Vincent kept on trapping her and asked, “Are you still going to pretend as if you aren’t doing this on purpose?”

Tilla scoffed nervously and turned her head to the side. And she asked as if she didn’t already know what he was talking about, “Doing what exactly?”

“This!” Vincent softly exclaimed with an exasperated expression on his face. “What happened while I was gone for a few hours? We were fine until this morning! But now… Now it seems like we have traveled back in time. You have started to avoid me again. After…”

He turned his head to look at the open door of the bedchamber they were currently in. And knowing that the Queen was right outside, he looked back at Tilla and spoke in a whisper, “After everything that happened between us, I just can’t…”

.....

Vincent frowned and lifted his hand to pinch Tilla’s chin. He made her look into his eyes and continued, “I can’t rest easy when you are suddenly treating me like I mean nothing to you. So, tell me what happened? I can work on it if I know what it is that is bothering you so much.”

Tilla was dumbfounded by Vincent’s ability to sense it so fast – sense what she was trying to do. And she was also amazed by his sincerity and his willingness to help her.

However, she couldn’t bring herself to be sincere to him. What was she supposed to say to him? That the maids were starting to talk about them? What would happen then?

Would he go and punish those maids? What if everyone began to say bad things about them? Would he punish everyone for speaking? And what if those maids didn’t stop at just pushing her down? What if they killed her out of spite?

‘This isn’t something that you can help me with,’ she thought as she looked into his eyes. ‘I will have to solve this problem on my own, in my own way.’

Tilla gave a wistful smile to Vincent. And in order to calm him down for now, she finally held out her hand in between their faces and whispered, “I have yet to put the ointment on this palm.”

Vincent closed his eyes and slightly lowered his head as he let out a sigh. He felt a little frustrated when Tilla completely ignored everything that he had just said.

He opened his eyes and mumbled in a defeated tone, “So, you’re not going to be honest with me, huh?”

Tilla looked down at her hand that was resting on her lap while the other one was still hovering midair.

“Okay. Fine.” Vincent shrugged and finally lifted his hands away from the armrest. He straightened his back and said as he opened the lid of the jar, “Just know that I won’t let you keep this up. You can’t come close to me when you want and ignore me when you don’t feel like it. I won’t allow it.”

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Tilla knitted her brows together and bit the inside of her lower lip. She breathed in sharply when she felt Vincent pulling her hand with a slight jerk.

And she grimaced when she felt the cold ointment coming in contact with her palm.

“Does it hurt?” Vincent asked in a much gentler voice.

“It burns a little,” Tilla replied softly.

Vincent brought her hand closer to his lips and gently blew cold air on her bruises.

The frown lines on Tilla’s face softened when his cold breath provided some relief to her.

“Are you hurt anywhere else?” Vincent asked after applying a generous amount of medicine to her palm.

Tilla took a peek at Vincent and shook her head.

Vincent looked at her knees and asked, “It looks like you already applied the medicine on your knees. Does it look bad? The wounds on your knees?”

For a second, Tilla thought that she was displaying her legs when Vincent said that. She was relieved when she saw her knees that were covered and wondered how he could possibly tell that her knees were hurt too.

“There are no wounds, just bruises.” Tilla cleared her throat and then looked at the door. “I think I should accompany the Queen now. It is almost time for her–”

Tilla suddenly arched her back and groaned in pain. “Argh!”

Vincent was now standing behind her and had slid his hand between the backrest of the chair and Tilla’s back. “I was suspecting that you hurt your back as well. I guess I am right,” he said as if it was perfectly normal for him to check Tilla’s back like that.

Tilla slid to the edge of the chair and said while half-turning her back to look at Vincent. “I will be alright. I think you should leave now.”

Vincent smirked and said in a whimsical manner, “I will leave after I apply the medicine on your back as well.”

Tilla’s eyes widened like a saucepan. And she looked at him as if she was asking him, ‘Are you crazy?’

Vincent narrowed his eyes at Tilla and proposed an alternative, “Then at least tell me what’s in your mind. And I will leave you alone. For now.”

“But–”

“Okay then I will…” he raised his brows and gazed at Tilla’s back as if to say what he would do if she didn’t tell him why she was acting the way she was.

“Okay, okay!” Tilla raised her palms in front of her face as if she was surrendering. “I will tell you then.”

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