TPSR 16

Chapter 16

There was an impact, but it didn’t hurt as much as I expected.

That was strange. I had definitely fallen.

When I opened my eyes, instead of the ground beneath me, there was a person.

It was Damian.

Damian was lying on the floor, holding me tightly in his arms.

…Wait.

What is this situation?

It’s not like I’m stupid, but I couldn’t process the scene in front of me. I just stared down at him blankly, unable to move.

Damian frowned.

“…You need to improve your awareness.”

Oh, right. I should get up.

I hurriedly tried to push myself up, but my hand slipped. I fell back down on top of him.

“Ah—!”

“…Please get up properly.”

Damian let out a deep sigh and pushed me upright. In the process, my body dangled in his hands.

In other words, I ended up hanging from both of Damian’s hands like a keychain, my feet swinging uselessly in the air.

My face burned. I didn’t even know if it was from embarrassment or something else, but even my ears felt hot.

“S-sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

I stopped mid-apology.

I noticed his arm.

From his elbow to his forearm, it was scraped bright red. Blood was dripping down the back of his hand.

“Ah!”

A startled cry burst out of me.

“Your arm! It’s bleeding!”

“…Don’t shout. It’s nothing.”

Damian shook his arm as if it were trivial. That only made the blood splatter more.

Nothing? There’s that much blood!

I used to tear up just from having a needle jabbed into my arm. And here he was, covered in blood without even blinking.

And this happened because he tried to catch me. Because he shielded me and took the fall himself.

It was because of me.

“What do you mean it’s nothing? You’re bleeding like that!”

“This much happens often during training—”

“If it happens often, that means you just leave it untreated?!”

My voice rose without me realizing it.

Damian looked at me as if I were ridiculous. I ignored his expression and jumped to my feet.

“Where’s the infirmary?”

“…What is this all of a sudden?”

“Hurry.”

Instead of explaining, I grabbed his wrist. Normally, I would have been more cautious—but not now.

Damian looked down at my small hand gripping him, utterly baffled.

“Your Highness, did you hit your head when you fell? I believe I protected you quite well.”

“Yes, you protected me so well that I’m perfectly fine.”

“Then why are you acting like this?”

“Do I really have to explain? You’re injured. Or did you hit your head instead?”

“I said it’s nothing—”

“I’ll decide whether it’s nothing.”

I cut him off.

Damian’s eyes widened in surprise.

Of course he was surprised. I was too. I hadn’t known I would say something like that.

“…Where is it?”

“…At the far east end of the annex.”

Damian finally answered with a sigh.

So it was the east end of the annex. Last time, I must’ve only wandered the west corridor endlessly.

“Let’s go.”

I started walking without letting go of his wrist.

Damian followed, still looking incredulous.

The infirmary was a quiet, small room.

Herbs were neatly arranged on shelves. On one side table were disinfectant, bandages, and basic medical supplies. Dust sparkled in the sunlight streaming through the window. The room carried the musty scent of a space that hadn’t been used often.

So this was where it had been. All that chaos last time just because I couldn’t find it.

I felt strangely deflated.

“Sit.”

I dragged a chair in front of Damian.

“…There’s really no need for this.”

“I said sit.”

I repeated firmly.

Damian let out a deep sigh and dropped into the chair. His face clearly showed annoyance, but I didn’t care.

I searched the shelves. Disinfectant here. Ointment there. Bandages next to it. I laid out everything I needed on the table. I even found a clean cloth.

My hands moved on their own.

It was familiar.

I could feel Damian watching me, but I ignored it for now.

I soaked the clean cloth with disinfectant and gently took his arm.

“…This might hurt.”

“It’s fine.”

I slowly cleaned the wound. The scrape was wide. He must have been scratched badly when he hit the ground—while shielding me.

‘…I feel awful.’

I muttered inwardly as I continued. Damian didn’t move at all. I couldn’t tell if it didn’t hurt or if he was just enduring it. Maybe to a swordsmanship genius, this really was nothing.

After disinfecting it, I applied ointment.

My hands moved smoothly.

The truth was, I was already used to things like this.

When I finally felt his gaze and looked up, Damian had been staring at me for some time.

“For a princess, you’re rather skilled. You can’t have had many chances to treat injuries.”

As expected, that question came.

My hand paused briefly.

“…Just because.”

I avoided answering.

I couldn’t say it was because I’d grown used to treating wounds from blood extractions.

After my blood was drawn in the imperial palace, wounds were always left behind. Needle marks. Small incisions. Infected cuts that festered. The one in charge of the extractions only did the bare minimum. And since my regular blood draws were a secret even from most of my closest maids, I couldn’t ask for help.

So changing bandages or treating reopened wounds became a habit.

That was how I’d gotten so used to it.

But I couldn’t tell him that.

Damian didn’t press further. Still, doubt lingered in his eyes. He seemed to sense something was off.

I began wrapping the bandage.

An awkward silence filled the infirmary. It was just the two of us. Quiet. Only the soft rustling of bandages could be heard.

“…Why did you run away?”

Damian spoke first.

“…What?”

“From the imperial palace.”

He looked at me, his eyes serious.

“Why go as far as coming to the Grand Duke’s estate to hide?”

My hands stopped.

What should I say?

Because I hated the palace? Because I was afraid of the Emperor? That wasn’t enough. To explain the real reason, I’d have to say far too much.

“…Because if I stayed there, I felt like I would die.”

That was what I said in the end.

I said it lightly, like a joke. As if it were nothing important.

But my eyes couldn’t smile.

Because it was true. Before my regression, I had truly died—bleeding in a cold underground prison.

“……”

Damian’s expression shifted subtly.

It looked like he wanted to say something. His lips parted slightly. But in the end, he said nothing. He only looked at me—differently than before.

Wariness?

No.

It wasn’t quite that.

I didn’t know what to call it.

Swallowing the words caught in my throat, I tied off the bandage.

“…It’s done.”

Damian looked down at his arm. After examining the neatly wrapped bandage, he opened his mouth.

“Thank—”

He seemed to mumble something, but his voice was too quiet to catch.

“Pardon?”

I asked reflexively, but he didn’t continue. Instead, he stared at me with a strange expression.

After a while, Damian suddenly stood up.

“…Young Master?”

“That’s enough for today. I can’t teach Her Highness with an injured arm.”

“No, I mean, I understand that, but—”

Before I could finish, he abruptly opened the infirmary door and walked out.

I stared blankly at the closed door.

‘So… I’ve been abandoned again?’

This irreverent young master clearly had a habit of leaving a princess behind.

The unfortunate thing was that, given my position, I couldn’t even scold him for it.

‘Well… at least I treated him properly.’

I looked down at the bandage still in my hand.

Last time, I’d been furious when he left me.

This time, strangely, I wasn’t.

More than that—

I kept thinking about earlier.

The arm that had instinctively wrapped around me when I fell.

Damian shielding me. That brief moment when I had been held in his arms.

He had been solid.

Warm.

That memory kept replaying in my mind.

‘…This is strange.’

That had never happened in the imperial palace.

No one had ever shielded me. No one had ever tried to protect me.

I had been the villain the imperial family put forward. The tool used to justify their tyranny. The scapegoat created by them. It was my role to stand at the front and take the blame and condemnation.

The Emperor I called Father had only ever seen me as a tool. The maids only watched their footing around me. No one in the palace ever reached out a hand to me.

I was someone to be feared—not someone to be protected.

If I fell, I got up alone. If I was hurt, I treated myself. Enduring pain alone was natural. I could never appear weak in anyone’s eyes.

It was like that even when the Emperor abandoned me and locked me in the underground prison.

Even in despair, I had never bowed my head before the officials and the people.

I thought that was normal.

But today, Damian had wrapped his arms around me instinctively.

Even knowing he would be the one to get hurt.

‘…Why?’

I didn’t understand.

I thought he hated me.

He had called me a burden, a shackle. He had warned me not to intrude into the territory of the sibling he cherished—without even knowing that I was that very sibling.

My head couldn’t comprehend it.

But my heart kept beating like a small drum.

Thump.

Thump.

And it didn’t stop for a long time.