Roger asks Mel what she thinks of him as a partner. Honestly, Mel hadn’t really given it much thought until now—but the more she does, the more she realizes it wouldn’t be such a bad deal. Her father already said he’d be fine with her marrying a knight, so he certainly wouldn’t object to a duke. Besides, the idea of spending every day with a man like Roger makes her heart do a little tap dance in her chest.
Still, she’s hesitant. Standing next to someone as handsome and noble as him, she’d probably look like a background character in her own story. She worries about bringing down his image, but the offer is way too tempting to refuse.
So she asks the obvious question—why her? A man of Roger’s status could have half the noblewomen in the kingdom fighting gladiator-style for his hand. Even if they did get married, she doubts his family would approve, since even though the stigma around eating monster meat isn’t as bad in Galbraith, no one would want to be associated with someone surrounded by so many strange rumors.
But Roger cuts her off before she can spiral too far. He says his people would actually welcome her with open arms. After all, his territory, Erzane Woods, is practically a monster buffet—it’s overflowing with beasts no matter how many he slays. In fact, he’s running out of ways to get rid of all the carcasses. To him, monsters have always just been targets for extermination—until Mel came along talking about eating them like it was fine dining. That idea completely changed his perspective.
He admits that during long expeditions, he and his men have eaten monster meat before, but they never knew how to drain the harmful magic properly. What Mel has done could turn those nuisances into actual food sources, and Roger is certain his people would appreciate that.
Mel lights up at the thought that her research might finally help others. Roger smiles and adds that as long as he’s around, he won’t let her face any scorn or judgment from other nobles.
That flusters Mel a little. She insists that she’s happy about his proposal, but she honestly doesn’t think she deserves someone like him. Roger starts to panic a little, thinking she’s politely rejecting him, but she quickly grabs his hand to clarify. What she meant was—she’s not exactly the perfect noblewoman. She’s hopeless with most ladylike things, but if he’s okay with that, she’d be honored to marry him.
Her only real talent lies in her research, but she’s confident about one thing—since Roger’s work involves slaying monsters, she can make sure not a single one goes to waste. After all, what’s love without a few home-cooked monster steaks?
Just then, Claude, one of Mel’s ever-dutiful guards, shows up to inform Roger that Mel’s father is waiting for him back at the castle. Their cozy little heart-to-heart ends abruptly, and they start getting ready to leave.
As Mel walks out the door, Claude leans in like a disapproving older brother and warns her that maybe—just maybe—she shouldn’t discuss sensitive territorial secrets with a man she’s only known for, oh, a grand total of forty-eight hours. Mel, realizing he’s not entirely wrong, takes his concern to heart (though she still looks like she’s thinking, “Let me live, Claude”).
As the three of them walk down the hall, Roger can feel Claude’s suspicion radiating off him. The man’s been staring holes into him all day, but to be fair, that’s what happens when your nickname is “the Blood-Mad Duke.” Still, Roger gets it—he’s not exactly the easiest person to trust on first impression.
A little while later, Roger finally meets with Count Ghislain Marchalrayd, Mel’s father, to finalize the engagement. Poor Ghislain looks like he’s about to face a dragon instead of a duke. He’s polite but clearly nervous about speaking so casually to someone of Roger’s status.
He’s happy, though, to hear that Roger recognizes Mel’s brilliance and genuinely cares about her. But being the overprotective dad that he is, he can’t help but ask why someone like Roger is interested in his daughter in the first place.
Roger explains that, on the day of the banquet, he was bored out of his mind—until the beast showed up. He killed it, as one does when you’re the Blood-Mad Duke, but what really caught his attention was Mel. She didn’t flinch. She didn’t scream. She didn’t even look disgusted by the fact that he was drenched in monster blood. In fact, she just looked him dead in the eye like, “Nice swing.” That’s when he realized she might actually accept him for who he is.
He admits that his proposal might have seemed sudden, but honestly, a certain meddlesome family member wouldn’t stop nagging him about it. So, to shut them up—and because he was serious about it—he decided to make things official as soon as possible.
Ghislain nods in understanding and starts signing the contract, but before finishing, he asks if that’s really the only reason Roger chose to marry Mel.
Roger, determined to clear any doubt, proceeds to give what could only be described as a full-blown TED Talk on Why Mel is Amazing. He lists all of her quirks and talents in excruciatingly affectionate detail, from her brilliant mind to her unflinching bravery. By the time he’s done, Ghislain looks convinced—and maybe a little emotional.
He’s relieved that someone finally sees Mel the way she deserves to be seen. In a world that frowns upon eating monsters, Mel’s life has been anything but easy, and as a mere count, Ghislain could only do so much to protect her.
So, with a deep breath, he entrusts his daughter to Roger, who promises that once Mel joins the Galbraith family, he’ll protect her no matter what.
Ten days later, Roger returns home, and Mel is busy packing up what looks like an entire library of monster research. Her knights are helping her load it all, though it’s clearly a massive task. Thankfully, Roger had insisted she bring everything from her facility—equipment, notes, possibly a few jars of mystery slime—and even left some of his knights behind to help with the move.
Because if there’s one thing the Blood-Mad Duke knows, it’s that when you marry a scientist, you marry the lab too.
She knows that she and Roger are officially engaged now, but it still hasn’t completely sunk in. After the marriage contract was signed, Roger even went so far as to imbue it with powerful magic — basically turning a legal document into a glowing “love certificate” — to symbolize his commitment to Mel. Of course, he knew Kauss would never let him live down such a romantic gesture, so he begged Mel to keep that part a secret.
It was a touching, heart-throbbing moment… right until Mel’s father, Count Ghislain Marchalrayd, coughed awkwardly to break the atmosphere because, let’s face it, no dad wants to watch his daughter get magically serenaded by a bloodthirsty duke.
Before the engagement was finalized, Count Ghislain had confided in Roger about a secret he’d been keeping from Mel for quite some time. He asked Roger not to tell her about it — but our beloved Duke of Loose Lips immediately turned to Mel and ratted him out without hesitation.
Apparently, it was Mel’s father who spread all those nasty rumors about her being a “monster meat muncher.” (Yes, that was his idea of protection.) To be fair, he only did it to scare off people who might exploit her research for creating weapons of mass destruction. Roger gets the sentiment — overprotective dad, paranoid scientist — so he isn’t angry. Still, he sternly warns Count Ghislain that he doesn’t want to hear any more rumors about Melphiera ever again. The poor count immediately nods, probably wishing he could melt into the nearest wall.
Mel, however, has no clue what’s going on. The conversation went right over her head, and when she asked, they just told her not to worry about it — which, naturally, makes her even more curious.
Before she can overthink it, Mullan, one of Mel’s knights, walks in to report that the leftover royal Moodle has been frozen solid with magic and is ready for transport. (Yes, the meat is still part of this love story.) He also asks what she plans to do with the Moodle fur. She replies that she’ll leave it for her father and stepbrother so they can make luxurious golden coats — because nothing says “family love” like matching monster-fur outerwear.
She thanks Mullan for his help, and with that, her packing is nearly complete. But a thought hits her: “Wait… do engaged couples normally move in together this soon?” The reason Roger insisted on it was because, once winter arrives, no one can travel to or from the Marchalrayd territory. If she stayed behind, he wouldn’t see her for half a year — and the man clearly can’t go that long without his favorite monster gourmet researcher.
Just then, there’s a knock on the door. The head butler, Herman, walks in to inform her that her escort has arrived. He’s cared for Mel since she was a child, so it’s bittersweet for him — sad to see her go, but proud of how far she’s come.
As Mel steps out of her room, it finally hits her — she won’t be returning home for a long time. Before leaving, she decides to see her father one last time. She heads over to his room, knocks softly, and enters… only to find Celia Marchalrayd sitting on the couch, waiting for her.
Mel enters the room and blinks in surprise when she spots Celia Marchalrayd sitting primly on the couch.
“Celia, what are you doing here?” she asks, a bit wary.
With an overly sweet smile, Celia replies, “Even if I’m only your stepmother, I still wanted to see my dear stepdaughter off before she leaves home.”
(Translation: I’m here to stir the pot one last time.)
Mel glances around and asks, “Where’s Father?”
“Oh, he’s outside making sure all your luggage and research equipment are being handled properly,” Celia says, her tone dripping with fake concern.
Mel nods curtly, having absolutely zero interest in small talk. She’s ready to make her polite exit—until Celia suddenly scoffs.
“I honestly don’t know how you managed to seduce a Duke,” she sneers. “But I want to make it clear — my son is the sole heir to the Marchalrayd family.”
Mel blinks once and replies calmly, “Yes, I’m aware. I am marrying out of the family, so it’s not really my problem.”
But Celia isn’t done yet. She folds her arms and adds with a smirk, “Even if Roger throws you out, don’t expect to be welcomed back here.”
At that moment, Mel really wants to say, ‘Oh, I’m thrilled I won’t have to look at your wrinkly mug ever again!’
…but she restrains herself, smiles politely instead, and excuses herself before she says something that’ll make tomorrow’s headlines.
Out in the courtyard, she finds her father, Count Ghislain Marchalrayd, who’s just finished overseeing her luggage. He looks at her warmly and asks, “Are you ready to go?”
He notices her coat and chuckles softly. “You look good in that. It brings back memories — that coat once belonged to your mother, Elise Marchalrayd. She wore it when she married me.”
Mel freezes for a moment, surprised. She had no idea this coat used to belong to her mother. Her father continues, reminiscing, “Your mother was originally from the south. The cold winters here must have been quite the shock to her. I still remember how excited she was to see snow for the first time — so excited that she overdid it and got sick right after.”
Mel laughs softly, picturing her mother spinning around in the snow like a happy fool. “I had no idea she was that silly,” she says fondly.
“I wish I could tell you more about her,” Ghislain replies with a wistful smile.
Before the moment can get too sentimental, Roger du Galbraith arrives, dramatic entrance and all, announcing, “I’ve come to pick up my fiancée!”
He looks around at the mountain of crates behind her and raises a brow. “Are you sure you’ve packed everything? There’s still a suspiciously large pile of stuff over there.”
“Oh, that?” Mel waves it off. “Those are just early drafts of my research notes. Nothing important.”
“Then I’ll have them burned,” Roger says matter-of-factly. “Can’t risk someone using your work for the wrong reasons.”
“Fair enough,” Mel nods.
Roger turns to Count Ghislain and says formally, “I’ll be taking your daughter now.”
The Count helps Mel climb onto the back of Roger’s dragon, his eyes glistening just a little. Watching his daughter ride off, he feels a pang of sadness—but also relief. She’s finally found someone who truly values her. At least she promised to come back and visit once spring returns next year.
However, Roger du Galbraith surprises Count Ghislain Marchalrayd by saying that he actually plans to keep Melphiera with him until their wedding in the fall.
This is brand new information for her father, who blinks and asks, “Wait, hold on—what about everything Mel needs to prepare before marrying into the Galbraith family?”
Roger smiles confidently. “You don’t have to worry about a thing, Count. I plan to provide Mel with everything she could possibly need. Consider it handled.”
And as for that enormous heap of Mel’s old research notes? Roger decides to deal with it right now.
He points his finger dramatically toward the pile and—without hesitation—casts a spell. Massive pillars of fire shoot up into the air, reducing the papers to ash in seconds.
From the ground, Claude Fall panics and shouts, “My lord! Don’t you think that was a little overkill?!”
Roger, realizing he may have just set a new world record for unnecessary magical intensity, laughs awkwardly. “Ah—sorry about that. I might’ve gone a bit too far. I just wanted to, uh… show off a little in front of Mel.”
Mel, watching the smoldering inferno, thinks to herself that this is definitely one way to handle recycling.
Before they leave, Roger turns to Claude and thanks him sincerely for taking such good care of Mel all this time. He even compliments his skill and offers him a position in the Galbraith Knights Order. “You’ve got potential, Claude. If you ever feel like a change of scenery, I’d be glad to have you.”
Later that night, Roger and his knights equip their dragons with glowing light orbs to keep track of one another during the flight. From below, the sight must look like a meteor shower streaking through the night sky — a breathtaking view for anyone awake to see it.
As they soar over the port town of Anver, Mel asks curiously, “Are we stopping here for the night?”
Roger shakes his head. “No, I planned to keep flying until we reach Fort Ritterard. But if you’re uncomfortable with sleeping in a fortress, I can arrange a place for you in the city.”
To his surprise, Mel’s eyes light up. “Are you kidding? I’d love to stay in a fort!”
Roger raises a brow. “You do realize the beds there are basically slabs of stone, right?”
“Perfect!” she says cheerfully. “It’s right next to a river — I can catch some fresh fish monsters! This time of year is peak spawning season!”
Roger blinks, momentarily reminded that he’s marrying a woman whose idea of a honeymoon involves fishing for mutant carp.
Still, he smiles and says, “If it’s fish monsters you’re after, the Xanaz are plentiful this season.”
Mel’s eyes sparkle. “Then that’s what I’ll catch first! I can’t wait to try cooking one.”
Roger chuckles to himself, realizing that while most nobles dream of candlelit dinners, his fiancée dreams of deep-fried dragons and monster sushi. And honestly? He’s completely fine with that.
Roger du Galbraith is eager to taste the fish monster as well, but he reminds Melphiera that catching one might take some time since they’ll need to set a trap and wait for something to actually fall into it.
Mel hadn’t considered that part, and her excitement instantly deflates like a punctured balloon. She was really hoping to try the fish tonight.
Seeing her pout, Roger chuckles and tells her to cheer up — if they set the trap as soon as they land, there’s a good chance it’ll catch something by morning. “Who knows,” he says with a grin, “we might be having grilled fish monster for breakfast.”
Mel looks up at him with sparkling eyes and asks if he’s really sure it’ll work out. For a brief second, Roger freezes — her expression is so adorable that it completely catches him off guard. But he quickly composes himself and clears his throat.
“Well,” he says, trying not to sound flustered, “catching breakfast ourselves sounds a lot better than eating the stale rations they’ve got stored at the fort. I’d take your cooking over that any day.”
Mel blushes slightly and beams. It’s a small compliment, but to her, it feels like winning an award.
Now that she thinks about it, Mel remembers Chaos Laforgue once mentioning that Roger and his knights had only ever suffered through horrible experiences eating monster meat before meeting her. So, she curiously asks if he’s ever actually cooked monster meat himself.
Roger lets out a laugh. “Cooked? That’s generous. I usually just tossed it over an open flame and prayed it wouldn’t kill me.”
He explains that during long expeditions, when rations ran out, he and his men had no choice but to chow down on whatever monsters they could find. “It was either that or starve,” he says grimly. “But honestly, I think I’d have preferred starving.”
Mel can’t help laughing a little, asking what kind of monsters he had eaten.
Roger grimaces at the memories. “Let’s see… there was the Bolivia Screamwood—the meat screamed louder than we did—and the Gargantis. That one tasted like regret and old boots.”
He sighs dramatically. “Those were truly dark days. I still have nightmares about the aftertaste.”
A little while later, the group finally arrives at the fortress. Roger tells Mel to hold on tight so she doesn’t fall off during the dragon’s descent. Once they land, the guards stationed at the fort rush out to greet him and his men.
“Welcome back, my lord! Shall we prepare your usual accommodations?” one of them asks.
But when they notice Melphiera, their eyes widen slightly.
“This time, I’ve brought a special guest,” Roger announces proudly. “We’ll need to reserve the entire western wing for her.”
The guards immediately agree but warn that the fort doesn’t exactly come with luxury amenities. “Our beds are… well, sturdy,” one of them says nervously.
While the guards make arrangements, Roger turns to Mel and starts to second-guess himself. “You know… it’s not too late to book you a proper room in the city. This place might be a bit too rough for a lady like you.”
Mel just waves it off with a smile. “It’s fine, really. Back at my lab, I used to fall asleep on the floor all the time. I’ll survive.”
Roger stares at her for a moment, realizing that this is a woman who finds comfort in chaos, naps on floors, and experiments with monsters for fun — and somehow, she’s the most charming person he’s ever met.
So, spending the night in a fort isn’t a big deal for Mel. Besides, she says she actually wants to stay here—knowing that Roger is nearby makes her feel safe. Roger, of course, is both flustered and secretly delighted by that.
A little later, he escorts her to the room she’ll be staying in and tells her she can sleep right away if she’s tired after such a long journey. But Mel shakes her head—she feels perfectly fine! The ride was comfortable, mostly because Roger kept her warm the whole way.
Just then, a strange smell wafts through the air… and Mel does not like it. So, she rushes straight to the kitchen to investigate.
Inside, she finds Mullen and Zeth cooking a huge pot of porridge for the whole fort. Trying not to sound rude (but absolutely sounding a bit rude anyway), she tells them that such a meager pot of porridge could never satisfy all those hungry knights.
Naturally, she offers a solution. “Why not toss in some of this?” she says, proudly holding up some freshly salted Moodle meat. “It’ll give the porridge a real kick!”
Mullen hesitates, asking if it’s okay to use since their supply of Moodle meat is limited. Zeth looks skeptical too—mostly because he’s still not sold on the idea of eating monster meat. Apparently, back when the knights first tried it, he was busy doing something else and missed the “taste test.” Now he’s not so sure about the whole thing, even if everyone insists it’s perfectly safe.
Mel smiles reassuringly. “Tell you what—try a little piece now.” She slices some meat, grills it perfectly over the fire, and hands it to Zeth. “Don’t worry, I’ve already removed all the magic toxins, so no food poisoning today!”
Zeth gulps and nervously takes a bite. Mullen, seeing that his friend gets a piece, immediately pipes up, “Hey, what about me?” Mel laughs and says, “Of course!” before throwing another chunk on the grill.
Zeth still isn’t entirely convinced that this monster meat is safe to eat, but Mullen just laughs and tells him he’s missing out—because this stuff is one of the best things you’ll ever taste.
Once Mel finishes cooking Mullen’s piece, he thanks her and chomps down without hesitation. His eyes widen, and he immediately starts praising her for her incredible cooking skills.
But just then, Roger shows up… and he does not look happy. He’s glaring at the scene like a jealous dragon guarding its treasure. His fiancée—his soon-to-be wife—is cooking for other men? Unthinkable!
Mel, seeing his expression, quickly tries to calm him down. “No need to pout, Roger. I already made some for you too!”
Roger crosses his arms and looks away dramatically. “I’m not eating it,” he grumbles. “I’m still sulking.”
Mel sighs—she can’t just let good food go to waste. Then she remembers how, back home, her little brother used to refuse his meals, and the maid would simply feed him. A mischievous smile spreads across her face.
“Alright, Roger,” she says sweetly, “open wide.”
Roger blinks. “Wait—what?”
Before he can react, Mel takes advantage of his stunned expression, pops the meat right into his mouth, and asks, “So? How is it?”
Roger chews for a moment… and then sighs. “…It’s delicious. Fine, I can’t even stay mad anymore.”
With the storm over, Zeth, seeing both Roger and Mullen enjoying themselves, finally gives in and takes a bite too. His eyes light up. “Whoa—this is actually amazing!”
Mel beams with pride but quickly refocuses. “Glad you like it! Now, help me mix the Moodle meat into the porridge, will you?”
Later that night, when the knights line up for their meals, every single one of them is floored by how good it tastes. Their morale shoots through the roof. It’s hard to be gloomy when dinner’s this good.
Roger compliments Mel for turning bland fort porridge into a royal feast. She giggles modestly and says, “It wasn’t anything special! I just diced the Moodle meat into cubes, fried it a bit, and mixed it in.”
“Simple,” Roger says, “but brilliant.”
Then he realizes—everyone has eaten except Mel herself. So, with a grin, he holds out a spoonful of porridge toward her. “Your turn. Open wide.”
Mel’s face instantly turns bright red. Sure, she did the same thing to him earlier… but being on the receiving end is way more embarrassing.
“I-I can feed myself!” she stammers.
But Roger insists. “Nope. My turn.”
Mel sighs, gives up, and opens her mouth. She takes a bite—and her eyes sparkle. “Mmm! That’s really good!”
Roger chuckles, offering another spoonful. “Glad you like it. Here comes the next one.”
After the sweet (and slightly cheesy) feeding session, Roger puts the spoon down and clears his throat. “Alright, Mel. There’s something I want to talk to you about.”
Roger tells Mel that he wants her to stop addressing him so formally.
Mel blinks, realizing he’s right—she does use his title an awful lot when speaking to him. But since they’re engaged now, there’s really no need for all that noble etiquette. So, she agrees to start calling him by name instead.
The moment Mel says “Roger” softly and sweetly, it’s like a choir of angels starts singing in his head. He looks absolutely delighted—until, out of nowhere, his eyes flash a glowing gold and he winces in pain.
Ralph, who happens to be nearby, panics. “Somebody, help! Lord Roger—uh, I mean, Roger—is collapsing!”
Mullen rushes over, but Roger quickly waves him off, grimacing. “I’m fine. Just… lost control of my magic for a second.” He massages his temples. “Though, I’ll admit, I’ve got quite the headache now.”
Mel’s eyes widen in concern. She immediately assumes the worst. “Oh no… did this happen because I fed you monster meat?!”
Mullen laughs nervously, trying to reassure her. “No, no, Lady Mel, this has nothing to do with your cooking. His Lord—uh, I mean Roger—just has a ridiculous amount of magic power stored up in that body of his. Sometimes it leaks out like steam from a teapot.”
Roger lets out a small sigh. “That’s one way to put it.”
Mullen continues explaining to Mel, “Even though his body can hold way more magic than most people, there’s still a limit. When it gets too full, he just needs to burn off the excess—think of it as magical exercise.”
To make her feel better, Mullen grins and says, “Actually, this might be the perfect time for him to go fishing for those river monsters you wanted. He can release some magic while catching breakfast!”
Roger smirks. “Good idea. I’ll head out first thing tomorrow morning.”
Mullen immediately volunteers. “I’ll join you! Someone has to make sure you don’t blow up half the river.”
Despite their lightheartedness, Mel still can’t shake her worry. Having such immense magic power isn’t all fun and fireworks—it also means that if Roger doesn’t release it regularly, his body could start producing magic toxins. Just like monsters that overflow with energy, a human who stores too much magic for too long could eventually go mad.
Mel looks at him quietly, thinking, So that’s why he needs to let it out… even if it scares me every time he does.
This was the exact same condition that Mel’s mother had suffered from before she passed away. The thought of Roger ending up like that filled Mel with dread.
One of Mel’s earliest memories was watching her mother slowly wither away in bed. Even as a child, she could tell her mother was forcing herself to smile through the pain, pretending everything was fine so Mel wouldn’t worry.
Her mother had explained to her that she was born with unusually strong magic power — so strong that if she didn’t release it in time, it would spiral out of control, leaving her feverish and bedridden.
Mel had asked if there was anything she could do to help. Her mother smiled warmly at her daughter’s kindness, but by then… she was already too far gone.
Not long after, Mel’s mother passed away. During the funeral, the guests — ever the gossipmongers — started spreading ridiculous rumors that she had died from eating too much monster meat.
Mel couldn’t stand hearing it. She knew the truth. Her mother’s death had nothing to do with monster meat — it was because her spell to extract magic energy from it was incomplete. During one experiment, the spell backfired, and her mother’s body ended up absorbing the monster’s magic instead of removing it. That mistake proved fatal.
Even so, Mel had always admired watching her mother work on that spell — the graceful way she moved, the glowing runes swirling around her hands. It was mesmerizing. She refused to let all that effort fade into history.
So, she decided to carry on her mother’s research in her honor.
Through years of study, Mel eventually discovered a chilling truth: human bodies are far more fragile than those of monsters. The more one is exposed to magical energy, the higher the risk of developing deadly magic toxicity. If only she had understood this sooner, maybe she could have warned her mother… maybe she could have saved her.
But it was too late for that. All she could do now was make sure Roger never suffered the same fate.
Later that night, Mel wakes up in bed and blinks in confusion. “Huh? When did I… get here?” The last thing she remembers is pacing around the room, brainstorming a cure for Roger’s condition. She must’ve fallen asleep mid-thought — on the floor, no less.
Her cheeks turn pink. “D-did Roger carry me here? Oh no… that’s so embarrassing…”
Determined to act natural (and failing miserably), she gets out of bed and looks for him. Eventually, she finds Roger sitting at the dining table, sipping tea like he’s in some noble painting.
“Are you feeling all right now?” she asks, her voice tinged with concern.
Roger smiles reassuringly. “Yes, I’m fine. My magic hasn’t built up nearly enough to cause toxins yet.”
To prove his point, he leans forward and presses his forehead against hers. “See? No fever.”
Mel freezes — her face instantly turning crimson. “R-Roger! You don’t just— you can’t—!”
Roger chuckles softly. “I can’t what? Show you I’m perfectly fine?”
She puffs her cheeks in protest but secretly feels relieved… and maybe just a little flustered.
Mel is relieved that Roger isn’t running a fever, but she quickly notices something else — his body feels ice cold.
“Roger… you’re freezing!” she says, frowning in concern.
Roger gives her a sheepish smile. “Ah, that. I might’ve gotten a little… soaked while trying to catch that monster fish I told you about last night.”
Mel blinks. “You went fishing—in the middle of the night?!”
“Well, you said you wanted to try it for breakfast,” he replies casually, as if late-night dragon fishing in subzero weather is perfectly normal behavior.
Mel sighs, torn between being touched and exasperated. “I didn’t mean you had to personally wrestle the fish at midnight…”
Roger chuckles softly. “Don’t worry, I won. The fish lost.”
Still, Mel feels bad. She hadn’t realized her silly request would send him out into the freezing cold. But before she can scold him further, Roger tilts his head and says, “Would you like to come see the catch?”
She wants to, of course — her curiosity is burning — but right now, something else is more important. “Later,” she says firmly. “Right now, we need to warm you up before you turn into a popsicle.”
Roger grins and, without hesitation, wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her in close. “Staying like this should do the trick.”
Mel’s face turns bright red. “W–wait, that’s not what I meant!”
But despite her flustered protest, she doesn’t push him away. In fact… she admits to herself that it’s very warm like this. And honestly? Being this close to Roger isn’t so bad.
Not bad at all.
