Chapter 13: Weaving a Web of Affection

Selena sat inside Alan's tent, her long blue silk dress lightly touching the ground, golden hair slightly disheveled. The candlelight cast soft shadows over her delicate, pale face, making her look even more fragile. In her hands, she clutched a worn silk handkerchief, the edges frayed, as she gently dabbed at the corners of her eyes. Her voice trembled as she whispered,

"Lord Alan, if not for your righteous aid, this helpless girl would have perished in the wilderness long ago..."

Her eyes glistened with tears, but beneath the sorrow was a subtle resilience—just enough to make her appear pitiful, yet not entirely weak. Her voice was as soft as a spring breeze brushing against a willow branch, laced with just the right amount of suppressed emotion to evoke a man's protectiveness.

Yet beneath her trembling fingers, tightly gripping the silk handkerchief, a cold sneer lurked in her heart.

"Men like Alan are always the easiest to manipulate."

An Unscripted Moment of Proximity

The rhythmic sound of hooves echoed from outside as Alan returned from his patrol. His steps were steady, his light armor still dusted with the dirt of the road, and his cloak swayed lightly in the wind. He pulled back the tent flap, allowing a gust of sand-filled air to rush in. Seeing her tear-streaked face, he frowned slightly and said in a low voice,

"Miss Alice, no need for tears. As long as you are in my camp, no one will harm you."

The golden strands of his hair, tousled by the wind, clung slightly to his forehead. His sapphire eyes held their usual warmth, yet traces of exhaustion lingered in his voice—an inevitable effect of days spent patrolling and commanding.

Selena looked up at him at just the right moment, allowing a single teardrop to slide down her cheek, shimmering in the candlelight like a fallen star.

"My lord," she whispered, voice laced with guilt, "You toil so tirelessly for your soldiers, yet still concern yourself with someone as useless as me... I am truly undeserving..."

She rose, her slender fingers lightly touching the wooden support beam for balance, but just as she took a step, she "accidentally" stumbled. The hem of her dress snagged on a wooden peg, and with a soft gasp, she fell forward.

The fabric of her gown fluttered, revealing a fleeting glimpse of pale, delicate skin before she swiftly adjusted her posture as if embarrassed by the exposure.

Alan reacted instantly, catching her just before she collapsed. His grip was firm, the warmth of his palm seeping through the thin layers of her dress.

"Be careful," he said, his voice carrying a trace of concern.

Selena allowed herself to lean into his support, her fingertips lightly grazing the edges of his cloak.

"Thank you, my lord," she murmured, voice barely above a whisper, "I always seem to trouble you…"

She let her fingers tremble slightly, as if unable to steady herself, and let her eyes steal a glance at his expression.

There it was—the flicker of pity.

Selena inwardly smirked, and in the softest voice, she added,

"Your arms… feel so steady… I have never felt safer than I do right now."

Alan remained silent for a moment before responding, "Miss Alice, you are stronger than you realize. Despite your hardships, you endure."

Selena lowered her gaze, her lips quivering as she whispered, "If not for you, my lord, I would not even have the courage to stand..."

The system's mechanical voice chimed in her mind:

[Detected: Alan's Favorability +10%. 'False Persona' effect enhanced.]

Carefully Orchestrated Admiration

The next morning, a light mist covered the training grounds. Soldiers trained under Alan's command, their synchronized movements thundering through the camp.

Selena draped a cloak over her shoulders and made a delicate request,

"My lord, I am weak, but I would love to watch you train… Would you permit it?"

She deliberately pulled the cloak tighter around herself, creating an illusion of vulnerability. Peeking from beneath her hem were worn, tattered shoes—an intentional detail to further highlight her misfortune.

Alan hesitated. "The winds outside are harsh, and your health—"

Selena cut him off with glistening eyes and a pleading voice.

"I have been confined in my tent for days, and my heart grows restless. Watching you will give me strength, my lord. I promise I will not get in the way—just let me stand at a distance and admire your heroism… please?"

The slight tremble in her voice, the mix of longing and reverence—it was a masterful blend of helplessness and admiration.

Alan sighed, defeated. "Very well. But stay close to me."

As she followed, Selena discreetly signaled Lina. The plan was simple: whispers would start spreading among the camp—"Miss Alice is so kind and thoughtful. Lord Alan is lucky to have her."

A Display of Strength, A Moment of Weakness

On the training field, Alan stood at the center of fifty cavalrymen.

With a single swing of his sword, he cleaved through a wooden target. The force of the strike sent splinters flying, and the soldiers roared in approval.

Selena, standing at the edge of the field, watched with admiration that looked entirely genuine.

"My lord is so powerful… His army moves like a force of nature. I have never witnessed such heroism before…" she murmured.

Then, she subtly covered her lips, feigning a delicate cough as the wind picked up, lifting golden strands across her face.

She allowed herself to wobble slightly, reaching for a wooden post to steady herself.

"Ah… The wind is so strong… I truly am weak…"

Alan turned at the sound, his brows furrowing slightly. He crossed the field in a few strides, his cloak billowing.

"You are not well. Return to the tent."

"No," Selena protested softly, "I do not mind the wind… I just wish to be near you. You work so hard—I do not wish to trouble you any more than I already have."

A shadow of warmth flickered in Alan's eyes.

"You are considerate, Miss Alice. Few would be so selfless."

Selena's lashes fluttered as she whispered,

"You overestimate me, my lord… I only wish not to be a burden."

She took a step back, letting the wind whip her cloak, creating an image of solitary resilience.

Alan exhaled before undoing his cloak and gently draping it over her shoulders.

"Wear this. You'll catch a cold."

Selena gasped slightly, feigning surprise.

"My lord, this cloak is surely too valuable… I do not deserve—"

"It is merely a piece of cloth. Keep it."

Around them, murmurs started to ripple through the soldiers.

"Lord Alan seems fond of her…"

"A noble lady who is both gentle and kind… He is truly fortunate."

Selena lowered her gaze, hiding her victorious smirk.

The web was weaving itself.

A Night of Subtle Manipulation

That evening, Alan himself brought her a bowl of hot soup.

"Miss Alice, the nights are cold. Drink this."

Selena cradled the bowl, her lashes damp with feigned emotion.

"My lord… You are already so busy, yet you still think of someone as insignificant as me…"

She took a small sip, letting warmth spread through her chest.

"This is the first time in my life that someone has cared for me like this… Even when my father was alive… he never showed me such kindness…"

She lowered her head, letting silent tears drip into the soup.

Alan sighed, his voice unusually soft. "Miss Alice, as long as you are here, you will never be alone again."

The system chimed again.

[Detected: Alan's Favorability +20%. Emotional Manipulation Effect Strengthened.]

Selena slowly lifted her gaze, allowing the candlelight to glisten against her tears.

"My lord… If I were to die today, I would have no regrets~"

Alan clenched his jaw, whispering, "No harm will come to you, Alice. That, I swear."

Selena turned away, hiding the satisfaction in her icy blue eyes.

The net was tightening. Soon, Alan's fate would be hers to control.