Chapter 15: Two Pairs of Hands

Marcellus stood at the entrance of the training ground, his dark robe draping to his ankles. The heavy fabric and meticulous tailoring accentuated his tall and commanding presence. Though his figure was cloaked in the shadow of the doorway, his imposing aura was impossible to ignore. His brow furrowed slightly, his gaze calm yet deep as a still pond, fixed intently on Alia as if attempting to decipher some hidden clue from her expression.

Alia's heart tightened but remained outwardly composed. As an experienced "thief," lying had become second nature. She tilted her lips into a faint smile and spoke with deliberate calm:

"Oh, I was just talking about Elise." Her tone carried a hint of exasperation, her eyes even showing a trace of reproach. "She got curious about the equipment and couldn't resist trying it out. She nearly fell, so I scolded her and told her not to touch anything. I sent her off to do something else, thinking she might have snuck back to bother me again."

Her words were delivered with an effortless air, seamless and without a crack. Yet Marcellus stood motionless, his expression unreadable, offering no immediate response.

"What's going on here?" he asked, his deep voice steady. His gaze swept across the training ground, lingering on the unusual equipment scattered around—ropes, stone pillars, and an intricate pulley system—all of which made his frown deepen. "Did you arrange for these?"

Alia maintained her poise, raising her chin slightly and answering with composed indifference:

"Yes. So what if I did?" Her voice carried a casual nonchalance, as though dismissing his concern. "You've always wanted me to recover quickly, haven't you? I asked Elise to buy these from professional shops in town. The people there recommended them as excellent tools for physical recovery."

Her explanation was both plausible and offhand, as if the matter required no further thought. However, Marcellus's sharp eyes studied her closely, observing every detail. He did not respond immediately, instead taking another look at the peculiar equipment. His gaze lingered on the unique designs of some devices, and his brow arched subtly.

"People recommended these?" he repeated softly, his tone carrying a faint undercurrent of skepticism. Yet, in the end, he chose to say no more, merely shaking his head with a hint of complicated emotion in his eyes.

Seeing Marcellus seem to accept her explanation, Alia secretly exhaled, the tension in her chest easing slightly as she maintained her calm façade.

Meanwhile, a different thought flickered through Marcellus's mind:

These tools hardly look like ordinary… Could the shop have offloaded some old inventory on her? My dear wife might've been swindled. But as long as she's happy, I suppose it's fine. Let her experiment—it might do her some good.

A barely perceptible smile curved his lips, a softness momentarily dispelling his usually austere demeanor. His tone mellowed as he said:

"Very well, I support you. If you think it will help, then go ahead and try them."

After a pause, his voice grew even gentler, laced with concern:

"But don't push yourself too hard. Your body's only just recovering. We can't afford any setbacks. These don't look easy to handle—make sure Elise stays by your side when you're training, just in case."

His unreserved care sent a ripple of mixed emotions through Alia's heart. She looked at Marcellus's steady, sincere expression, and an inexplicable warmth mingled with her guarded instincts.

She nodded lightly, her tone calm but tinged with a hint of dismissiveness:

"I know."

With Marcellus showing no further suspicion, Alia allowed herself a small reprieve, her taut nerves slightly relaxed. Her gaze shifted away from his face as she stepped forward, reaching out to adjust his collar—a motion so natural and fluid it seemed entirely unremarkable.

"Why are you back so early today?" she asked softly while retracting her hand, her voice carrying a faint trace of casual curiosity, as if trying to lighten the atmosphere.

Marcellus lowered his eyes to her, his gaze deep and layered with complex emotions. Her gesture, so gentle and familiar, caught him momentarily off guard, evoking a fleeting memory of days when life was simpler and carefree. Yet that sentiment was swiftly buried as he deliberately masked it. His throat moved slightly, and his voice remained low and steady:

"Come with me to the study. There's something I need to discuss with you."

Before Alia could respond, he naturally took her hand. The motion was seamless, a practiced intimacy that momentarily left her stunned. She glanced down at the hand enveloped in his firm grasp. The warmth of his palm stirred a flicker of disorientation. She had expected herself to instinctively recoil or pull away, yet her body offered no resistance. Instead, she found herself lingering on the sensation, her thoughts growing increasingly entangled.

His hand… Alia unconsciously took note of the warmth and strength of his grip, the smoothness of his palm contrasting with the calloused texture of another. Marcellus's touch was refined, his skin unmarred by labor, radiating an innate sense of nobility. Despite its elegance, the strength in his hand was undeniable—a quiet power that inspired both trust and a sense of safety.

Her mind drifted momentarily to Elias, recalling the coarse ridges on his fingertips—proof of a life shaped by rigorous, grueling training. The roughness of his touch spoke of a history far removed from his carefree demeanor.

Callouses… Alia remembered Elias's swift, fluid movements on the training ground. His dexterity was unmistakably honed by experience, hinting at a past of discipline and danger. It was a stark contrast to his public image as a carefree second son of nobility.

The juxtaposition between the two pairs of hands left Alia with a bittersweet realization. Though Marcellus and Elias were utterly different, their hands each bore an intangible weight—one rooted in hidden burdens, the other steeped in solemn responsibilities. Both held secrets that quietly tugged at her heartstrings.