Someone knocked on the bedroom door from outside.

Upon granting permission, Helen entered the room.

“I didn’t summon you. What brings you here, Butler?”

“Madam, I’ve come to ask about meal preparations.”

“Why are you personally asking about that?”

“The lord said to relay that he’d like to dine with you at any time you’re comfortable.”

Feeling sluggish, Cecilia was in a sour mood.

However, knowing that he was checking on her from the morning lightened her mood, as though her stiff muscles were easing.

“Inform the kitchen that I’ll eat immediately. Also, let the lord know.”

“Yes, Madam.”

Shortly after, a maid reported that the meal was ready.

As Cecilia left the bedroom, she briefly frowned and relaxed her expression. Walking felt a bit uncomfortable.

She arrived at the dining hall, where she had always eaten alone.

Upon entering, she found Russell already there, standing from his seat.

Once the two were seated, the staff began serving the dishes.

The meal was consumed in silence.

The attendants discreetly observed the lord and lady, sensing an odd distance between them instead of the closeness one might expect.

Cecilia felt awkward as she faced him.

Sitting properly during the day, opposite the man she had been entangled with all night, made her feel self-conscious.

She wasn’t skilled at breaking the tension with playful charm—a trait people often found surprising given her appearance.

As the meal neared its end, Russell dismissed the attendants.

“Everyone, leave us.”

After they were alone in the dining hall, Cecilia asked him,

“Why did you send them away?”

“I thought it might make you more comfortable.”

“Me? Why?”

“Not sure.”

Russell shrugged. His actions weren’t deeply calculated, merely driven by the thought that her silence didn’t seem to stem from anger.

“How are you feeling? You said last night that you felt a bit of pain.”

“…I’m fine. How about you?”

“Me?”

Cecilia averted her gaze.

“…Your back.”

Russell flinched, as if caught off guard.

He felt like a young beast experiencing its first heat, struggling to control the heat rising from his lower abdomen.

He hadn’t realized how unmanageable his body could be.

Looking at her avoiding his eyes, he felt an inexplicable thirst.

“I don’t know. I can’t see it myself.”

“Then have someone check it.”

“Who?”

Cecilia almost suggested the physician, Brendan, but quickly dismissed the idea.

The thought of the lord exposing his bare back and revealing embarrassing wounds to an elderly physician felt odd.

And the idea of involving a maid didn’t sit well with her either.

Sensing an opportunity, Russell seized it without hesitation.

“You should check it for me then.”

“…I’ll gather what we might need for treatment and come to your room. When would be convenient?”

“Anytime. If I’m not in my room, I’ll be in my study.”

.

.

On her way back to her room, Cecilia glanced out the window, where snow continued to fall.

‘It’s been snowing for an entire day—it must have piled up by now.’

She headed to the central hall, where the main entrance was located.

The hall’s interior had changed.

A wide, yellowish carpet now covered half the floor.

Upon closer inspection, she saw it was woven from thick threads, as wide as a person’s finger.

“What kind of fabric is this?”

The maids attending her today were from Lagos.

One of them answered.

“It’s made by peeling and twisting the skins of the Karming fruit into thread.”

“Fruit skins? Why is this laid here?”

Hearing that it was made from plant skins, Cecilia understood.

At first glance, the threads looked extremely coarse.

The color wasn’t appealing, and the overall appearance lacked refinement.

It clashed with her sense of aesthetics.

“When people go in and out, snow clings to their shoes and gets tracked inside. It dirties the floor, creates puddles, and eventually freezes. So, we lay this down as a mat.”

“Do you leave it here all winter?”

“Yes, Madam.”

“But it’ll get wet over time.”

“Karming skin generates heat when it gets wet. It dries on its own.”

“How fascinating.”

Cecilia moved closer to the entrance and crouched down.

The area near the door, where people had stepped repeatedly, was clumped with dirt.

In the past, she wouldn’t have even considered stepping near it, let alone touching it.

Now, she reached out to feel it.

As the maid had said, she detected a faint warmth.

As Cecilia moved closer to the door, a man nearby hurried over.

“Madam, are you planning to step outside?”

Cecilia was taken aback.

The servant had spoken before being called, preemptively trying to gauge her intentions.