Of Promised Fierce Vengeance

Ercilia is not sure about what to think of Drystan. 

He is not acting as she expected. In fact, it's the complete opposite. She would've understood if he felt repelled by her. He did say before how much he'd despised her, after all. 

'But why did he go all through this trouble to save me then...?' Ercilia pondered in trepidation, still unable to look at Drystan in the eye. 

'Is it because of Meir? Did he ask him to?'

That would be reasonable, but if that was indeed the case, this would not be necessary. 

His words of reassurance, his attempts to comfort her, his gentle expression, his kindness overall – they were totally uncalled-for. Simply taking her to the hospital would have been more than enough, but then, he still had to do all of these for some unfathomable cause. He was supposed to loathe her – to show her nothing but intense repugnance, and yet, he was doing no such thing. 

'Just why? Had he already forgiven me? That easily?'