Diana felt a jolt like an electric current shoot through her heart, causing her toes to curl back instinctively.
William's hand, holding the cotton swab, paused for a fraction of a second. His deep gaze traveled from her porcelain-like feet up to her frantic eyes. "Did I hurt you?"
Diana turned her face away, her voice as faint as a whisper. "No."
Assuming she was simply enduring the pain, William dipped his fingers into the cool ointment. His movements became even more gentle, as if he were polishing a piece of fragile fine bone china. The infirmary was dead silent, save for the occasional rustle of the wind outside the window, making the frozen moment feel exceptionally long.
The sole of her foot pressed against his warm, firm palm. That heat climbed inch by inch along the lines of her skin, setting her heart racing like a drum.
William suddenly curled his lips into a smile, his voice low and melodic. "Why is your face so red? Is it hot in here?"
Diana bit her lip and shot back, "I feel like your palms are on fire. Otherwise, why would you keep burning my foot?"
William let out a soft chuckle, the vibration of his chest carrying through the air. "Am I burning you, or are you spontaneously combusting?"
"It's definitely you," Diana insisted stubbornly.
William arched an eyebrow, his tone laced with indulgence. "Fine, then it's my fault."
A strange sensation flickered in Diana's heart. This man, rumored by the outside world to be the "Cold-Faced Asura" of the Knight family, was currently acting as gracious as a refined gentleman. She looked at those long fingers—hands meant for signing multi-million dollar contracts—now covered in the scent of herbal medicine. She couldn't help but ask, "Mr. Knight, are you really not busy?"
William didn't look up. "I am."
"Then go back to work. I can handle this little scratch myself."
"Work can wait, but my duties as a husband cannot be deferred." William packed away the ointment, his tone calm but Brook-no-argument.
Diana was stunned. The legendary workaholic, who reportedly valued efficiency over life itself, was actually delaying his schedule for a mere bruise.
"Why?" she asked subconsciously.
Only then did William look her in the eye, his gaze profound. "To accompany you to see your grandmother."
An unbidden warmth surged through Diana's chest. She couldn't tell if this tenderness was related to love, but as a husband—aside from the final physical line they had yet to cross—he was truly beyond reproach.
William closed the medical kit and warned her sternly, "Until the swelling on your foot goes down over the next two days, no running around. Just rest."
"I get it," Diana said, pointing toward the sink. "Go wash your hands; the ointment has a strong smell."
As William set her dainty white foot back into her slipper, the sudden loss of that scorching contact left a faint, inexplicable trace of melancholy in his heart.
He stood up, his eyes lingering on her foot for a moment before commenting, "You have nice feet."
Diana was about to retort that there was nothing "nice" about a swollen foot covered in herbs, but then he added a nonsensical observation: "They're so pink."
He stared at her translucent skin as if discovering a rare work of art. "How can even the soles of your feet be this pink?"
Diana felt her face flush even hotter. His words sounded incredibly suggestive. They hadn't even undressed in front of each other yet; she didn't even know if he had abs under that bespoke suit.
William glanced past her embarrassed face, his gaze lingering on her red lips for a second before he turned to leave.
It wasn't until his silhouette disappeared down the hallway that the air began to circulate again. Diana exhaled deeply, patting her chest to steady her racing heart.
Her foot was swelling rapidly now, throbbing with a sharp pain whenever she moved. Refusing to just sit and wait, she stood on one leg and began hopping toward the ward like a clumsy little rabbit.
When William returned after washing his hands, he saw the slender figure already dozens of yards away, bobbing along.
Just as Diana was picking up momentum, an elderly man tottered out from a corner. Startled, she lost her balance on her one good leg. Just as she was about to crash onto the hard concrete floor, she heard swift, heavy footsteps behind her.
A pair of powerful arms swept under her knees and waist, catching her in a steady bridal carry.
Breathless and shaken, Diana instinctively wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingertips brushing against his cool skin.
"Mr. Knight... your timing is impeccable."
William's face was grim as he carried her toward the ward with steady strides. "I told you to wait for me. Why the bravado?"
Diana mumbled, "I thought I could manage such a short distance."
William let out a cold snort. "Who do you think you are, Super Mario? You think you can just hop around and hit a mushroom to clear the level?"
Finding nothing to say, Diana shrank into his embrace, lowering her long lashes and looking like a bullied kitten. "I didn't think that."
William glanced down at her. Seeing her usual pride vanish, replaced by this piteous, childlike state—like a child afraid of being scolded—the contrast between her cold elegance and this vulnerability tugged at the softest part of his heart.
As they reached the door, Diana struggled with embarrassment. "Grandmother is inside. Put me down first."
"We are a legally married couple. Do we really need to avoid being seen together?"
Not only did William refuse to let go, but he also tightened his grip and pushed the door open with his foot.
Inside, Grandmother was craning her neck in anticipation. She blinked in surprise when she saw her granddaughter being carried in by a handsome, tall stranger, with Diana's arms wrapped snugly around his neck.
"Diana, who is this?"
"He is my..." It was the first time Diana had used the word in front of an elder, and her face turned crimson. "...husband."
A genuine glint of amusement sparked in William's eyes.
He placed Diana gently onto the bedside cot, then straightened his lapels and bowed respectfully to the elderly woman. "Hello, Grandmother."
Grandmother studied the extraordinary-looking man and beamed. "What a handsome young man. What's your name?"
"William Knight. My family calls me William. You remind me so much of my own grandmother; please, feel free to call me William as well." He didn't act like the high-and-mighty Lord Knight at all; instead, he was the picture of a dutiful grandson.
Grandmother couldn't stop smiling. "William. That's a good name. It sounds very dear."
William noticed the calming tea on the table and realized why Diana had gone for water. He turned to pick up the thermos, pouring the tea with elegant precision. As he handed it to her, he didn't forget to remind her, "Careful, Grandmother. It's hot."
Faced with a grandson-in-law who was wealthy, handsome, sweet-talking, and diligent, Grandmother was completely won over. She took Diana's hand and praised, "Diana, you've made an excellent choice. He's a good, sincere man."
Watching William patiently chat with her grandmother—who wasn't entirely lucid and often asked the same question five times—Diana felt a corner of her heart's defenses crumble. William answered every repeat question with the same gentle patience.
By late night, the tea had taken effect and Grandmother grew weary. William carefully helped her lie down and tucked her in.
Meanwhile, Noah Bell was fast asleep on the other cot, his breathing heavy. The room fell quiet.
Diana looked at the narrow cot, which was barely four feet wide, and felt a bit awkward. "Mr. Knight, there's a five-star hotel nearby. Maybe you should..."
William sat down beside her. "I'm staying here."
"Then I'll sleep on the sofa."
"It's only our fifth day of marriage and you already want separate beds?" William arched an eyebrow, his tone deepening.
"That's not what I meant. It's just... this bed is too small for two people."
"Is it now?" With a sweep of his arm, William caught her waist and pulled her down into the soft pillow. He lay on his side, holding her tightly from behind, his lean, powerful body molding perfectly against hers.
He buried his face in the crook of her neck, his warm lips brushing against her sensitive skin. "See? We fit just fine. Let's sleep."