?Chapter 667:


    My coat had been ripped apart by Bryan the night before, leaving me exposed and unable to keep warm. Wrapping my arms tightly around myself, I braced against the chill as my body trembled.


    Suddenly, a warm coat settled over my shoulders.


    Startled, I turned and found Martin standing there. His hair was slightly disheveled, as though he had rushed down in a hurry. He rubbed the back of his head and said softly, “I heard some noise and came to check. Are you alright?”


    His gaze swept over me, carefully searching for any signs of harm.


    The memory ofst night flooded back, sending a wave of heat to my cheeks and ears. Embarrassment and guilt tangled inside me. I looked down, unable to meet his eyes, and stammered, “Martin, I’m… I’m sorry. Did Prince Bryan hurt youst night?”


    Martin gave a sheepish smile and shook his head gently, though guilt clouded his face. “I should’ve been there for youst night. But I ended up knocked out after a kick from Prince Bryan. I really feel useless.”


    His words only deepened the frustration and guilt churning inside me.


    Noticing that he was wearing only a thin shirt, I quickly tried to hand back the coat. “Martin, you should wear your coat. Your shirt is so thin, you might catch a cold.”


    Martin chuckled, scratching his head as he stepped back. “I’m not cold. Keep the coat on; I don’t want you to get cold.”


    When he insisted, I didn’t push further. After pausing briefly, I shyly asked, “Martin, w-would you like to join me for breakfast?”


    Martin’s face brightened with eagerness, and he nodded. “Sure, I’m hungry.”


    We made our way back to my ce together. As I opened the door, the quiet inside told me Evie was still asleep. Turning to Martin with a weing smile, I said, “Just hang on a moment. I’ll make us breakfast.”


    Martin looked suddenly anxious and quickly interjected, “No, let me. It wouldn’t be right to have you cook for me.”


    Stay tuned for more gαlnσν??s.c○m


    With a resigned smile, I nced at the spot where Bryan had kicked himst night. Though the bruise wasn’t visible, I knew it was there, and I knew it hurt.


    “You’re still hurt. I can’t let someone in pain cook for me. Please, let me do it.”


    Once I reassured him, Martin relented. But he remained visibly tense as he stood awkwardly in the dining room. He asionally cast quick, shy nces around the room and kept to himself.


    Meanwhile, I busied myself in the kitchen, quickly putting together a simple meal. Shortly after, I brought the freshly prepared breakfast to the table.


    The sight of the meal seemed to catch Martin off guard, and he looked at it with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. He pointed to the sandwiches and asked, “You… don’t like bacon sandwiches?”


    I paused for a moment, then smiled as Iid out the tes. “No. I find bacon a bit too greasy for my taste.”


    Upon hearing this, Martin’s expression softened. His gaze turned reflective as he seemed to drift into deep thought. Seeing his distant look, I wondered if he might prefer bacon after all. Concerned, I offered, “Martin, what’s wrong? If you’d like, I can add some bacon for you.”


    Martin seemed to snap back to the present at my words. He shook his head with a faint, bitter smile and said, “No, it’s not that. It’s just that bacon sandwiches remind me of my elder sister. She didn’t like them either.”


    Intrigued, I looked at him with surprise. “Oh? Your sister? Does she also work as a servant in the pce?”


    He shook his head and his expression clouded over. Then he took a bite of his sandwich, perhaps seeking a moment offort.


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