affection chapter 7

After rummaging in his pocket for a while, Damon presented Sienna with the object he’d found, a bright smile illuminating his face. Held in his small, grubby hand was…

“…Bread?”

“My supper. I snuck it out. You must be hungry.”

Damon gestured for her to take it quickly, and Sienna reflexively accepted the hard, brown loaf. A look of immense pride shone on his face. Well, it’s the thought that counts.

“Thank you. I’ll enjoy it.”

The truth was, after a day without food, she was starting to see stars. Sienna chuckled softly and opened her mouth to take a bite.

Growl.

That, she could declare with absolute certainty, was not her stomach. Sienna stared at Damon, incredulous. Damon’s face flushed crimson as he covered it with his hands and took a step back.

“…No!”

“No, what?”

“I… It’s nothing!”

“Alright then.”

Sienna decided to let it go. However, Damon’s gaze remained fixed on the bread in her hand, filled with a palpable longing. She’d assumed he’d brought her leftovers, but apparently, this single, rock-hard loaf, capable of cracking teeth, was his entire supper.

He’s getting an allowance from the palace, isn’t he? Why is he eating like this? That explains why he’s so short.

Growwwwwl.

This time, the rumble from Damon’s stomach was even louder. He seemed to have given up on pretending, now attempting to mask the sound with a hum.

“Hmm… Mmm…”

Growwwwwwwl.

The rumbling, however, was significantly more powerful than his humming. Damon’s face was now the color of a ripe tomato. Witnessing the young lord’s unexpected display of mortification in the middle of the night, Sienna, unable to bear the secondhand embarrassment, offered him the bread back.

“I’m not hungry. You should have it.”

She honestly couldn’t eat it; the guilt was too much. Damon vehemently refused, practically leaping back.

“I brought it for you! You eat it.”

“I’m fine, really. Besides, I might be dying soon anyway. What’s the point of eating if I’m just going to become dirt? You should have it. Live a little longer.”

“Dying…? Don’t be absurd…!”

Damon frowned at Sienna’s pointed words.

Just testing the waters. Maybe I’m not dying after all?

A flicker of hope sparked in Sienna’s eyes.

“Well… it’s a possibility…”

This little brat is getting on my nerves.

As Sienna struggled to quell her rising irritation, Damon reached through the bars again, pressing the bread firmly into her hand.

“What are you doing? I told you I don’t want it…”

“It’s fine. I think I’d be more satisfied knowing you ate it. And… I’ll do everything I can to prevent that… that ‘possibility’ from happening. This is all my fault, after all.”

“…You will?”

Damon pouted at her disbelieving tone. Perhaps she was growing fond of him, because he suddenly seemed a little endearing. Sienna reached through the bars and stroked his hair. The fine, downy strands tangled softly around her fingers.

Lost in the sensation, like running her hand through a field of ripe wheat, she glanced down to find Damon’s face had turned a shade of scarlet rivaling a tomato field.

“W-What are you doing?”

“Patting your head.”

“Why… why are you patting my head? What is the meaning of this action?”

“There’s no deep meaning… You’re just… cute… I’m grateful.”

It was more cute than grateful, but she doubted he’d appreciate that level of honesty, so Sienna opted for a gentler explanation. Wouldn’t anyone find it endearing to see a twelve-year-old boy trying so hard for someone else? Seemingly aware that Sienna found him endearing, Damon’s expression hardened.

“I’m serious. I won’t let the Baron lay a finger on you.”

“Okay.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“No, I do.”

Caught out, Sienna offered a weak smile.

“Your hand.”

Damon extended his hand towards her. Puzzled, Sienna placed her hand in his. He carefully kissed the back of her hand. His lips were chapped but warm against her skin.

“I swear on the name of Damon Owen Marbas, I will protect you, Sienna.”

He sounded resolute. Sienna wasn’t entirely convinced, but lacking any other source of hope, she offered words of encouragement to her little champion.

“I’m counting on you.”

***

“Come out.”

Sienna, who must have drifted off to sleep huddled in the corner of her cell, jolted awake at the sharp, masculine voice. It wasn’t Damon who had disturbed her slumber.

Even in the dim light, a round head gleamed, reflecting the glow of a nearby lamp. The man sneered at Sienna. He was one of Limerio’s men, the ones who had dragged her to the dungeons.

Sienna was surprised by the pang of disappointment she felt. She must have subconsciously believed the little boy could actually pull something off.

He’s only twelve, after all.

Scoffing internally, Sienna cautiously stepped out of the open cell door. The man bound her hands tightly behind her back with a rough rope. As they began walking down the corridor, Sienna asked, “Um… what’s going to happen to me?”

“That’s a ridiculous question. Did you really think you could touch the Baron and live to tell the tale, you insignificant little thing?”