The Squire on a White Horse
Chapter 7.2
I poked him in the chest with my finger.
“You’re always the one who has to listen to my problems. I want to do something for you, too.”
I wanted to be useful to him. I didn’t want to add more burden to his life. That’s all I wanted.
Stanley covered his mouth with both hands as if he was overcome with emotion. His eyes seemed to be filled with emotion.
“Don’t tell me that the most study-phobic young lady in… the Chamberlain territory is doing something… for me?”
Dana nodded her head so many times in agreement that it looked like her head was going to fall off.
I was annoyed by that phrase.
It was true that I did anything but a fake illness to escape from my studies. I didn’t want to waste my time on something as uninteresting as studying when I could die tomorrow.
Dana was the one who got pushed around the most, and maybe Stanley was the second.
Just as I saw Stanley as he was when I first met him, to him I was probably still a ten-year-old girl who hated to study and did whatever mischief I could think of. To him, I might still be a ten-year-old girl who hated to study and played every trick she could think of.
No wonder I wasn’t seen as a woman.
Stanley wiped his eyes with his fingers, then nodded his head.
“I’ll have to work harder, then.”
“You don’t have to work so hard anymore.”
I hurriedly went back to my original topic. I pointed to the dark circles.
“I know it’s hard work, but if you collapse, you’ll never recover. Is Father making you work so hard?”
I thought about saying something, but Stanley shook his head several times.
“The Master has told me to rest.”
“Then rest. Can’t you listen to your master’s orders?”
“But…”
“There’s nothing funny about it. I’m not going to be a widow.”
I wasn’t even a widow because I’m not even engaged yet, to be precise.
I thought Dana would correct me, but she was not as bold as I thought she would be.
“If you were to collapse now, and something were to happen to you, what do you think would happen to me then?”
His face tensed up.
I knew he couldn’t disobey me, so I said, “Please, rest for me.”
I stared at Stanley with a serious face, wanting him to know that I was really worried about him.
He shook his head in resignation, his eyebrows drooping.
“…I understand. I’ll take care of this and then I’ll take a two-hour nap.”
“Five hours.”
“Five hours is as good as…”
“No, five hours.”
“…At least make it four hours.”
“Okay, four hours.”
It’s not much, but it was good for Stanley.
“You promise?”
“Okay.”
I give him a pat on the shoulder and walk away. When his back was out of sight behind the bend in the corridor, I sighed. I’ll check later to see if he really rested.
“…Lady Florence, being a widow is…”
“I know, I know.”
Interrupting Dana’s voice, I turned on my heel in the opposite direction of the study room.
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