"I brought you some tea."
Phield wore a mischievous expression—he knew full well that her leaving the door unlocked wasn't exactly innocent.
"Mm… you came." Tisiana lowered her voice. Once she saw it was her lord, she couldn't keep up the act anymore. Her face flushed red as she murmured in a voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz, "I… I do feel a bit uncomfortable. I don't really know what to do."
Even though it was Phield who had slipped in, Tisiana felt like she was sitting on needles, as if she were the guilty one—a petty thief caught in the act.
That suffocating tension, the kind that only came with stealing, made it hard for her to breathe.
Obediently, she shifted aside to make space. Dizzy and flustered, Tisiana burrowed straight under the blanket, burying her head. Soon enough, she felt the lord move closer as well.
