The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

At the clothing shop, Desmond's wounds gradually mended, instilling a sense of relief within him.

Elizabeth appeared pallid, beads of perspiration adorning her forehead, while Laura's hands bore the telltale signs of prolonged exposure to water, their skin wrinkled and pruned. Despite the pain that coursed through his body, Desmond maintained a serene composure.

Seated beside him, a woman diligently attended to his wounds, her tender touch a source of solace. The proximity allowed Desmond to catch the delicate scent of their bodies and the subtle fragrance of their hair.

Thump.

Abruptly, Elizabeth, who had been visibly struggling, collapsed onto the floor. She remained seated, fixated upon Desmond's wounds, while Laura, overcome with exhaustion, slumped onto the nearby bed.

"Haaah... haaah... finally, it's over. How are you, Master Desmond?" Laura inquired between labored breaths.

"I feel better, but what about you, Miss Elizabeth? You appear quite pale," Desmond expressed his concern.

Desmond harbored an inherent disdain for indebtedness, desiring to repay Elizabeth's kindness in a direct manner. Transmitting a mental message to Laura, he instructed her to retrieve 100 gold coins and offer them to Elizabeth.

Laura, taken aback by the unexpected request, hesitated momentarily but resolved not to disappoint her master. She rose to her feet, promptly procuring the designated sum and presenting it to Elizabeth.

While it might have appeared unconventional for an affluent individual like Elizabeth to accept money, Desmond insisted on this gesture of gratitude.

Elizabeth found herself perplexed by the situation. "Please, Miss Elizabeth, accept it. I do not wish to remain indebted to you," Desmond's voice turned cold, a stark contrast to the amiable smile he had previously worn.

Witnessing this transformation, Elizabeth was reminded of the fear she had experienced in the arena. Yielding to Desmond's words, she acquiesced and accepted the money, rising to her feet.

"Well then, until we meet again, Master Desmond," she saluted before swiftly departing the room.

Observing this turn of events, Desmond was left bewildered by her sudden departure. Shouldn't he have been the one expressing gratitude? Why did Elizabeth, who had implored him to stay earlier, now depart in such haste?

Laura, who bore witness to the exchange, shook her head in response, her gaze fixed upon her master's perplexed expression. She patiently awaited his next directive.

Unbeknownst to Desmond, the intensity of his gaze had inadvertently instilled terror within those around him.

With Elizabeth's departure, Desmond instructed Laura to assist him in standing. He intended to proceed with purchasing new clothes when, unexpectedly, the door to the room swung open once more.

BANG

Elizabeth's sudden return to the room caught Desmond off guard, and he paused to assess the situation, his expression puzzled yet composed.

"Hello, Master Desmond. Please forgive me for intruding once again," Elizabeth greeted him, her breath slightly labored from her hurried return.

Desmond nodded in acknowledgment, accepting her presence with a calm demeanor. "That's alright, Miss Elizabeth. What is the important matter you wish to discuss?"

Elizabeth, relieved by Desmond's receptive attitude, appreciated his directness. "Earlier, I couldn't help but notice your injuries. It appears as though you were attacked, possibly by a wild beast?"

Desmond's mind raced for a moment, momentarily fearing that Elizabeth might reveal something unsettling. He had worried that Edward, her father, had already learned about the demise of the demon. However, he quickly reassured himself, realizing that the topic seemed to be centered on his injuries.

Maintaining his composure, Desmond remained silent, causing both Elizabeth and Laura to grow anxious, fearing they might have angered him. Elizabeth, however, believed that she could rely on her father's position and title if Desmond were to become angry.

On the other hand, Laura worried about the consequences she might face if Desmond became displeased, knowing that she could potentially lose her job.

After considering his options, Desmond formulated a plausible alibi to avoid exposing his identity as a spy while also appeasing the concerns of the wealthy.

"Well... you see, two days ago, I purchased a Husk Wolf," Desmond began, intentionally pausing to gauge Elizabeth's familiarity with the creature. "By any chance, Miss Elizabeth, are you familiar with Husk Wolves?"

Both Elizabeth and Laura shook their heads, admitting their lack of knowledge. Desmond rolled his eyes in response, while Laura remained silent, her gaze fixated on the floor.

Elizabeth's suspicion grew, and she directed her attention toward Laura. "Is that true, Laura?" she inquired.

Laura wished to respond immediately, lifting her head to speak, but her voice failed her. She received a message from Desmond, compelling her to comply.

"I... I don't know. I only started working at the young master's residence recently," Laura answered, her voice lacking conviction.

Elizabeth's doubts intensified as she observed Laura's behavior. She attempted to probe further, but Desmond interjected.

"Laura is a new maid and may not be aware of this," he explained. "I acquired the Husk Wolf through an auction before she joined my household."

Elizabeth's gaze fixated on Desmond, her mind weaving through the labyrinth of possibilities that lay ahead. Her eyes narrowed as she scrutinized his expression, searching for the truth hidden beneath the surface. The weight of her thoughts lingered in the air, casting an aura of contemplation.

With a deliberate pause, Desmond began to unravel the tapestry of the story, his voice carrying a hint of melancholy. The words flowed from his lips, painting vivid images and breathing life into the narrative. As he spoke, the room seemed to be enveloped in a hushed stillness, everyone hanging onto his every word.

The incident unfurled its first tendrils a few days after Desmond's acquisition of the Husk Wolf. Usually, the responsibility of feeding the animals fell upon his guards, a duty they faithfully fulfilled. Yet, fate intervened, guiding Desmond's steps to witness the guards' peculiar feeding ritual. Curiosity seized him, compelling him to take matters into his own hands.

The sensation of anticipation crackled in the air as he decided to feed the wolf himself, hoping to forge a connection. However, the whims of destiny had other plans in store.

The piercing bite of the Husk Wolf marked a turning point in Desmond's tale. The room resonated with a sharp intake of breath, as if echoing the pain that surged through his veins. His words wove a poignant tapestry of emotion, his expression mirroring the anguish he claimed to have endured. Even Laura, touched by his fabricated account, felt a surge of sympathy stir within her.

Yet, Elizabeth, ever perceptive, sensed a tinge of deception lingering in the shadows. Her unwavering gaze remained fixed on Desmond, piercing through the facade he carefully constructed. Their eyes locked, a silent battle of wits and intuition playing out before the onlookers.

Undeterred, Desmond met her penetrating stare with a charming smile, attempting to divert her attention from his inner machinations.

Despite Desmond's icy demeanor, his training and upbringing had sculpted him into a man of undeniable allure. His visage bore a striking resemblance to Matson's, captivating and commanding attention. His physique, sculpted with precision, possessed an enviable magnetism that turned heads.

Had it not been for their aloof and distant natures, Desmond might have found himself pursued by countless women of his age.

As Elizabeth's gaze veered away, Desmond's brow furrowed in confusion. He had prepared a fallback explanation, should she press for further details. "What troubles you, Miss Elizabeth? Are you still plagued by doubts?" His voice carried a gentle concern, laced with a hint of curiosity.

In that moment, a memory surfaced in Desmond's mind, a thread left untouched until now. "Ah, Miss Elizabeth, if I may divert your attention, are you searching for new garments? A dress, perhaps?" The words hung in the air, causing Elizabeth's face to flush a brilliant shade of crimson.

She instinctively shielded her embarrassment with both hands, peeking at Desmond through her fingers, her vulnerability exposed.

Desmond's smile widened at the sight of Elizabeth's bashfulness, reveling in her discomfort. "What ails you, Miss Elizabeth? Has a fever befallen you? Your cheeks are aglow with such vibrant hues." A playful note laced his words, his intent to shift the focus away from his own injury, aiming to alleviate the tension that lingered.

Elizabeth reached her threshold, unable to bear the mounting embarrassment any longer. With a swift departure, she hurriedly exited Desmond's chamber. Her flustered exit, a sight that unfolded before him, brought a secret satisfaction to Desmond's heart. He had skillfully evaded a potential predic

ament, skillfully dodging the proverbial bullet. Fortune smiled upon him, for the princess remained within the throes of her teenage years, providing him a temporary respite.