Chapter 19
Healing the Wounds
Instead of his usual gentle expression, I saw his eyes intently focused on my movements.
How on earth did I end up sparring with the sub-male lead from the original story? I had no idea. But right now, that curiosity didn’t matter. What mattered was focusing on the sparring in front of me.
I first stepped in, swinging my wooden sword, and as if he had anticipated it, he blocked it.
“Your center of gravity is leaning forward.”
“Ah, I was just about to fix that. And now you’re pointing it out too, Eyzar?”
I smiled and stepped back briefly, clashing swords again. Because of the difference in our builds, I could see that our lines of sight didn’t match perfectly.
I just need to step in a little more…
I pressed my strength downward to create space and thrust my wooden sword upward.
As expected, he immediately blocked it and shifted his stance, countering with his own attack.
I was pushed backward by his momentum, barely keeping up.
Even with an unfamiliar hand, he moves so well… I don’t think I’ll even graze him.
Unlike the wooden training dummies, it was exhausting to face someone who moved in real time, changing stances and launching unexpected strikes.
He seemed aware of my struggle, subtly guiding my weakness to end the sparring quickly.
Then, a memory of one of the Count’s knights came to mind:
“You tend to leave your left side poorly defended, miss. If you rush, that side becomes vulnerable.”
So what should I do?
The knights had advised that if I faced someone I hadn’t sparred much with, I should pretend to leave a gap, then strike when the opportunity arises.
Even if the guards don’t fight properly, my father will chase them away, so I only needed to know this.
That advice helped now. My husband subtly adjusted the angle of his sword toward my left side, giving me a small opening.
Even in a moment like this, my husband is considering me.
I shifted my stance quickly to defend along the path he subtly suggested. I felt him hesitate for a moment—surprised—but as the captain of the Azure Knights, he quickly tried to block my strike.
Too late.
I had been praised before for striking with overwhelming speed, so before he could fully adjust, the tip of my wooden sword grazed his jaw.
I actually hit him—just barely!
I grinned with joy and prepared to strike again, but he quickly adjusted to block and pushed my sword away.
I tried to keep up, defending and attacking, but after a few more exchanges, my wooden sword flew from my hand.
I collapsed to the ground, panting.
“Ah… what a pity.”
Even if I wanted to continue, my sword was far away, and losing it meant my defeat was inevitable. I glanced at my aching wrist. I was proud of my speed, but Eyzar, constantly pressing with sheer strength, was an overwhelming opponent.
A shadow fell over me as I sat there.
“As expected, I can’t match Eyzar.”
“I may have pushed you too hard, my lady.”
He returned to his usual gentle expression, anxiously checking my condition.
“No, it’s fine. If you hadn’t taken this seriously, I would have been upset instead. Thank you.”
Though my wrist throbbed, I knew a simple treatment would make it better. The fact that I had sparred even briefly with him made me happy.
I wonder how jealous the knights will be when I tell them later.
I smiled brightly at the thought, and Eyzar returned my smile.
“You would have made an excellent knight, even now.”
“Eh, no need to say that after winning.”
“Truly. I mean it.”
Hearing his sincerity felt like praise, and it made me proud.
I got up to brush the dirt off my clothes, but my whole body tingled.
…Probably overexerted since I moved so suddenly.
Though I had done some basic training next to him, I’d been lounging too much in preparation for the wedding. Or maybe the work of being the Duchess had left me little time for exercise. Whatever the reason, moving now was hard.
“…I’m sorry, Eyzar. I think I overdid it.”
“Why do you say that?”
“My legs are shaking; I think my muscles strained from the sudden activity.”
Sometimes moderation is best for the body. I tried to signal for help, but he spoke unexpectedly.
“If I carry you, the problem is solved.”
“Excuse me?”
“You agreed to it.”
Before I could react, he lifted me in one swift motion, holding me firmly. I gasped, trying to protest.
“Aah, no need! Put me down!”
“Do not struggle—it’s dangerous. And your legs are sore, aren’t they?”
“But it must be hard for you too…”
“Not at all.”
He answered cheerfully as he carried me effortlessly. I had no strength left to resist and surrendered myself to him.
But I didn’t forget to set boundaries.
“This is only for today! My legs are shaking!”
“Understood, my lady.”
Eyzar smiled as he carried me, listening to my reminders… his gaze on me was almost, if not completely, sweetly adoring.
I blushed at his attention. Such vulnerability wasn’t quite proper for a contractual marriage…
Dr. Dietvan, the Perhaem household physician, wrapped a bandage around Julietta’s wrist and let out a deep sigh.
“I heard you were sparring… but you should have taken it easy.”
“Is she really that unwell?”
Not seriously, but her wrist shouldn’t be strained for a while.
Dietvan worried further:
“I should have controlled my strength… she moved so suddenly, and now her legs are weak… and…”
“Sir… no, you should sit still.”
While Dietvan checked her, Eyzar circled nervously like a restless puppy. No matter how much I told him to calm down, he wouldn’t listen.
I told him gently:
“Eyzar, I’m completely fine. Sit down.”
The moment I said that, he obediently sat, gazing at me quietly.
What a silly, doting husband.
Dietvan finished wrapping the bandage, casting a glance at Julietta: her vivid red hair, lively green eyes, lifted gaze, and overall energetic, cheerful demeanor.
She’s completely different from that girl.
He reflected on the past: the young master of the household had once been infatuated with another girl but remained emotionally reserved.
Now, Julietta, the new Duchess, wasn’t just someone to protect—she was a source of reassurance for others.
Sure enough, the once sulky young master’s face softened, smiling as if melting.
Though rumors in the house said they had a secret courtship that led to marriage, Dietvan sincerely hoped they were happy together.
Meanwhile, the young master, now fully grown, had never been scratched in sparring. Yet here he was, with a mark on his jaw from a remarkable young lady—proof of her strength.
“Next time, I’ll be more careful, my lady…”
“It’s fine! Why the sad face? Smile—quickly!”
“Yes, my lady.”
Though their flirting gives me goosebumps…
Dietvan turned to the window, silently wishing the sparring couple would finish soon.
