I Swear I Won’t Bother You Again!

Never before have I voluntarily returned home so early. Even now, of course, I never wanted to leave.

Because I just didn't feel like walking around the city without Yulan, and most importantly, I'm sure it wouldn't be fun.

Then I should have talked more about it then, I can't believe I should have asked you out, it's a later festival even when I think about it when I get home. Most importantly, I'm afraid if I'm with Yulan right now, I'm going to have an extra mouthful of that.

"Dear Violet..."

"I'm gonna take a break."

"Yeah, I'll get ready now."

Seeing Violet's complexion back home, Marin immediately seemed to have guessed something. Prepare hot milk in front of a violet where all the movements support some slow Lord's actions, usually until the dressing you do yourself and the ensuing discipline, leaving yourself on the couch to drip.

I know you're doing everything you can to take it into account, but I don't have the energy to answer that. Say thank you and tongue drum her brewed sweet milk, or stay asleep and reset your thoughts.

I can't laugh up and say it's okay.

All I could do was close my eyes without even being able to sleep.

× × × ×

Hot milk with lots of honey is one of Violet's favorites. It was the chef who taught me how to brew. Marine told me over and over again to practice and now 'Marine Hot Milk' is Violet's favorite.

I wanted the girl who only knows how to heal by scratching and squatting, to laugh somehow. I didn't know how to do that. Whatever you want. It was hard to collect Violet's favorite objects and show them off, care about this one and laugh.

One of those things I finally found was hot milk with plenty of honey. It's not just hot milk, it's sweeter, it's more sweet, and it's a little cooler. Good stuff. When I served something warm, it was adorable to lick it like a kitten, but the hot air almost stopped standing. I still remember vividly enough happiness when I drank it and laughed softly. All I know is how relieved Marin was so that Violet's shoulder could lose its strength, and how much she wanted to cry at the same time, is the chef who actually cried.

Then I've brewed it over and over again. When she thinks that Violet can no longer scratch and cry, Marin wants to resent her skill. I failed at first, because I was too handy, and now I'm sure even if I were meditating on my eyes, they would make it delicious.

Still, if she'll be happy. Violet laughs at me, so I could be proud of this lowest level of experience.

Violet's smile made me think this was the right thing to do because I was grateful.

(How...)

Marin leaves the room with Violet's uniform dressed in her hand, remembering her husband, who kills his breath in the room behind her.

(Couldn't get my hands on it)

That has never happened before. He was supposed to reach for the cup and wrap his hands around that slightly cooled warmth to remove his strength. Even if I can't see you drinking, thank you, you were supposed to laugh.

"Huh..."

The chewed teeth and teeth sound dull and the tongue pounding disappears in his mouth. I was aware that there was a wrinkle between my eyebrows.

I'm sure I have a horribly rugged look on my face right now.

What's in my brain is yesterday's sight and a pearl-colored girl laughing innocently.

(Um, motherfucker...... ugh)

Very unspoken, dirty and cursing words. Never a good word to say by a servant who serves a nobleman, but from Marin's point of view, I just want you to praise me for not making it sound.

If reason hadn't done its job, I would have beaten myself to the point where I felt like heading to Mary Jun.

I don't know exactly how confused Violet's insides are. It wasn't even within the imaginary range of a boulder marine that he was fighting his own rooting monopoly appetite.

Still, it's easy to figure out what caused Violet's anomaly.

Ever since my dinner seat yesterday, things have been ridiculous. More to the point, from the moment Mary Jun spoke Yulan's name, Violet's blood remained drawn. Because that called for nightmares, my morning complexion was so much worse than before I got some sleep.

It is obvious that the cause is what the half-sister said, and that, above all, makes me angry.

I don't think Mary Jun would have felt that way. That innocent and ignorant being doesn't question the possibility of hurting people, either, shards. I believe that for someone's sake, no one gets hurt, and even if I do, everything heals because I'm sorry.

I believe in the theory of sexuality, and all of my personality consists of goodness. In fact, if you're going to use Mary Jun's personality as a word, I think it's good.

- So what is it?

A good man, a good man, does not necessarily wave a weapon. Like there's a hero who took a million lives, like there's only one killer, like there's a sinner.

As Mary Jun was good. As there was no blade in that statement. Violet just scratched herself.

What's wrong with that?

For Marin, Mary Jun is the object of more hatred, resentment and contempt than any sinner.

Whether you are the brave one who defeated the Demon King or the Virgin of the Redemption, no matter how honored your deeds and merciful your presence may be. Even if they say this is sin, it's evil.

Whoever said anything, Mary Jun was evil to Marin.