"Surprise!" Grey entered Monica's room carrying a freshly baked berry cake.
As soon as he opened the door, he smelled a persistent scent of wine mixed with the pleasant fragrance typical of women's rooms.
Although Monica had not left her room for three days, drowning her sorrow in alcohol, everything inside was in perfect order. The bed was neatly made, and all her clothes were tucked away in a small dresser against the wall. Only a dense row of empty wine jugs revealed her inner turmoil.
Monica herself stared out the window with a vacant expression. She was so distracted that she did not notice Grey's arrival. It seemed her thoughts had drifted far away. Her back looked so defeated and lonely...
Grey's smile froze on his face.
No matter how sociable he had been in his past life, he had no idea how to start this difficult conversation.
Women were made of water. This phrase described Monica's current state better than anything.
She did not cry or sob, she simply stood staring into emptiness. But that ringing silence was exactly what frayed the nerves. As if her loneliness and unspoken pain had gathered at the bottom of a lake, without causing even a single ripple on the surface.
Grey knew he had hurt her badly, but still underestimated the impact of his insults.
To be honest, he should not take all the blame. His words were sharp and hurtful. He repaid kindness with malice. That could not be argued.
However, simple words should not have had such a devastating effect.
Monica had worked in the nightlife industry for several years. Clients she served sometimes said even more unsightly things to her. Her profession required a certain psychological resilience. The ability to detach and ignore was simply mandatory.
It was precisely that these words came from someone she had genuine affection for that hurt Monica so deeply.
Several long seconds passed.
Grey coughed lightly.
The woman slowly turned away from the window and looked in his direction.
In her unfocused eyes, a faint trace of recognition flickered for a split second, only to be replaced by apathy.
Monica quickly adjusted her dress and gave him a faint, forced smile.
"It's you..."
"Yes, it's me..."
Grey was about to start apologizing, but Monica's thoughts finally began to move again. She straightened up, smoothed her hair, and asked in a neutral voice, pretending she was completely sober.
"Lady Veronika asked you to come, didn't she?"
"Yes..." — he did not manage to finish his next words before Monica interrupted him again.
"You don't need to apologize to me at all. I'm perfectly fine. Hic... Lady Veronika has nothing to worry about. If she still demands an explanation from you, you can just say you already apologized. I just want to be alone for a bit."
After saying what she had to say, she waved her hand, signaling him to leave, swayed slightly, and returned to the window again, as if she could not wait to continue watching her favorite show.
Grey did not even move. He would be a complete idiot if he believed a single word of hers.
However, he truly did not know what to say. Dealing with an upset woman could put even the most skilled master of words into a dead end. And Grey did not consider himself one.
He had been a sociable man. That was the simple truth. In his past life, he had often had to maintain conversations with all kinds of high-class people. Compared to this backward era, the range of his acquaintances could be called unusually broad.
However, quantity did not always mean quality. Empty small talk at parties could not prepare him for dealing with real problems. Because of that, it took Grey several long minutes to gather his thoughts.
"Monica... I really want to apologize... Not because Lady Veronika asked me to, but because I want to."
"Let me finish, please." — he said quickly when he noticed she was about to interrupt again.
"I'm still angry when I think about what you did for me. I won't deny it. What you did hurt my pride. All of that is true."
"But look at it from my perspective... How can I call myself a man if the woman I respect has to sell her body for me? It might be hard for you to understand my principles, and I don't expect you to. I only ask that you respect yourself more."
"You are an amazing woman, Monica. Strong, kind, beautiful, and very caring. It's just unbearable for me to see you treat yourself so poorly."
"I still remember how you bought me back from Harmon. Do you remember? You paid two silver coins out of your own pocket, even though you could have just walked away. That's a lot of money, and Lady Veronika would not have blamed you for neglecting her orders. Do you know how happy I was at that moment? How grateful I felt?"
"I know better than anyone that without your help, I would have died in a ditch long ago. So how else am I supposed to react when my benefactor suffers again and again because of me? I don't want that!"
"Forgive me, Monica. Please, forgive me. I was just very angry and took all my frustration out on you. Maybe I'm crippled, but I still have my pride. I have to admit my mistakes and try to fix them."
"I won't leave until you forgive me. Please try this dessert. I made it myself. I hope it can lift your mood at least a little."
By the end of his speech, Grey felt so moved that he almost wanted to cry.
Although Senior could not experience positive emotions, all negative ones felt terrifyingly clear. Guilt was among them. It was as if they had been cranked to the maximum, with no way to release the pressure.
Before he started speaking, he did not feel regret at all. Regret implied remorse, as well as hope for redemption. Grey did not feel any of that.
It was difficult for him to understand his own emotions.
Cold calculation told him he was wrong. Logic said he should follow Veronika's order. And the constant unease demanded immediate action. But there was disharmony in all of it, as if something was missing.
And then, after he said everything he wanted to say, guilt became the dominant feeling.
Monica looked at Grey with slightly hazy eyes. The image before her was blurry, her head unpleasantly throbbing from him speaking too much and too loudly. She could not say with certainty that she had fully understood everything he said.
However, she understood that the boy was remorseful. She even noticed that he had baked a cake especially for her.
That realization warmed her heart.
Grey still had many things he wanted to say, but he did not manage to finish before gentle arms wrapped around his head, and he was pulled into Monica's firm embrace. His face was pressed against her full chest.
A helpless drunk woman did not have very good control over her strength. He was lucky Monica's cultivation level was not very high, otherwise he could have died from suffocation…
Literally. No joke.
He was a crippled teenager who could not grow stronger. Even something as simple as this could kill him. Monica's emotional embrace was comparable to a bodybuilder squeezing with full force. It was soft and pleasant, yet at the same time it held him like a vice.
"I forgive you, I forgive you," she repeated, wiping the moisture that welled up in her eyes against his hair.
"Re…ally?" Grey asked incoherently, trying to draw in enough air.
"Yes, really. I never blamed you. It was my mistake. I should not have acted without consulting you and asking for your opinion. I was too emotional and selfish and made all the decisions on my own. You reacted like a real man, and I was foolish. I won't do that again. I can even stop working. Just don't leave me... I don't want to be alone."
Finally, Grey managed to break free from Monica's embrace and take several vital breaths.
He stared at her in disbelief, as if he were looking at some kind of alien.
"What is this woman talking about? Am I not the one who is supposed to apologize? Why is she insisting again and again that she is the one at fault? Is this the effect of alcohol?" Grey truly could not understand what was going on in her mind.
In this world, masculine pride was regarded as something sacred and noble. It was not a casual trait, nor something innate or mandatory. On the contrary, pride was seen as a privilege. A sign that a person was capable of standing their ground. In much the same way, female chastity was valued not merely for its existence, but for the conscious choice and the ability to preserve it.
Only noble and powerful individuals could afford to think about such things without fear of ridicule or consequences. For everyone else, pride and chastity were luxuries they simply had no right to.
That was why Monica felt relieved.
To a modern person, her worldview might seem like nonsense and complete absurdity, but this was a world of magic and swords. The very fact that Grey sought to protect his pride was, from Monica's perspective, a manifestation of resilience, ambition, and drive. He had not lost that even while being a cripple, and that is what impressed her.
As someone born on Earth, Grey simply could not understand their strange and unnatural sense of normality or worldview. What exactly separated selfishness from a noble pursuit of something greater? It was yet another expression of this world's bizarre philosophy, one that made him feel completely alien here, almost detached from reality.
In any case, he was glad the situation had been resolved.
"There, there, don't cry, Monica. Let's eat the cake. You look exhausted."
He stepped to the table and quickly cut a piece, hoping she would not refuse.
Monica smiled. She felt happy that the boy cared about her well-being.
"You're right... hic... I am a little hungry. Did you bake this yourself? I've never tried anything like it..."
"Yes, it's a dessert. Very sweet. There's a lot of honey and berries in it. I'm sure you'll like it."
Monica's stomach betrayed her with a quiet growl as she awkwardly took a piece. The smell was very tempting, but the shape felt unfamiliar. It looked like bread and jam, but not quite the same.
She took a bite and immediately closed her eyes.
A mix of different berries and milk-based dough exploded in her mouth. Sweet, yet sour. Tart, yet light. Her taste buds came alive.
"So delicious!" she could not hold back an admiring compliment. "Make sure you treat the others as well. You're a wonderful cook."
"I will," Grey nodded with satisfaction. "I just wanted you to try it first. You will forgive me, right?"
He lowered his eyes, not daring to look directly at Monica.
"Of course, little mouse," she replied, smoothing his hair.
"You shouldn't doubt it. I don't blame you at all. You weren't wrong."
"Then promise you won't do that again? I would rather die than let you repeat something like that!"
"...."
"Promise," Grey demanded after noticing her silence.
"Phew, you're worrying for nothing, little mouse. My chastity is already in the past. So why are you so concerned about it?"
"Just promise," Grey refused to calm down. On this matter, he could not step back.
He did not even know when he had become so principled, but he was certain he would rather die than allow something like that to happen again.
"Alright, I promise. But you also have to promise me that you'll take care of yourself."
"I promise. No injuries," Grey agreed readily, since he did not want to risk his life either and very much wanted to live in peace.
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