Persephone was puzzled by the scene unfolding before her. Instead of serving as her bodyguards, the two men appeared more like Seamus' subordinates.
After a prolonged silence, she glanced at him coldly, forced a smile, and said, "Seamus, are you so averse to trying the soup I prepared for you?"
"I've recovered, so I don't need it," he replied.
"Is it that you don't need it, or do you lack the courage to eat it?"
"Miss, you..."
Abruptly, he looked up, sensing a change in her demeanor.
Or perhaps she had always been that way.
Being a Hamerton, she was protected, but her core remained—stubbornness in adversities, the ability to discern one's intentions, and quick decision-making in times of danger…
Seamus bit his lip, studying her intensely.
"I was joking," she reassured, transforming into the harmless creature she often portrayed with a smile. "Seamus, do you think the medicine I prescribed isn't up to par? I thought this might not be the correct prescription... But I can't recall what's missing or added to it.
"Forget it. Don't eat it then. We won't be able to go home if something goes wrong."
"Miss..." Unknowingly, a shiver ran down his spine.
Staring at her innocent smile, he wondered if the brief, intense glare had been an illusion.
"Speaking of prescriptions, I remembered something," she said, taking a seat beside him. "I spent some time in Southeast Aciatic when I was young, learning about medicine with my great-grandfather. We made many incorrect prescriptions, and you were always our guinea pig! Hehe..."
He forced a smile and played along.
Suddenly, Persephone reached for his hand. "It must be tough for you to stay by my side all these years, right? I have a bad temper, and I am immature and difficult. Yet, you always tolerate me.
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