Chapter 8
"Ms. Wood, do you have any medicine for wounds?"
I took a deep breath, pushed him into a chair, grabbed the ointment and bandages, and started patching him up.
The wound was on his left forearm. It was a long slash that stretched from his wrist all the way up to his elbow. It wasn't deep, but the sight of it was shocking.
I dipped a piece of cotton cloth in medicinal wine and gently wiped away the blood around the wound.
When the wine touched his injury, Payton didn't even flinch. Instead, he looked down at me, his gaze so focused it was as if I were some rare treasure.
"Does it hurt?" I asked.
"No."
"Liar. With a cut that long, there's no way it doesn't hurt."
"Honestly, it doesn't hurt," Payton said, his voice dropping low with a hint of a smile. "With you here, the pain just disappears."
My hand paused for a moment, but I kept my head down and kept wrapping the bandage.
I wound the gauze around his arm, layer by layer, trying to be as gentle as possible, afraid I might hurt him.
Payton suddenly spoke up, "Esme, you're pretty good at this like you've done it before."
"Running an inn, bumps and scrapes are unavoidable."
"Is that so?" Payton smiled, but didn't press further.
Kellan came running out from the back room, and when he spotted the bandage on Payton's arm, his little face scrunched up with worry.
"Your Highness, you're injured! Does it hurt?"
The little guy dashed over, stood on his tiptoes, puffed out his cheeks, and blew softly on Payton's arm like he was casting a magic spell.
"When I get hurt, Mommy blows on it and it stops hurting. So if I blow on your arm, Your Highness, you won't hurt anymore!"
Payton paused for a second, then reached out and ruffled Kellan's hair, his voice unusually gentle. "Thanks, Kellan. It doesn't hurt anymore."
Kellan's eyes crinkled into little crescents as he beamed, then dashed back to the inner room. He came running out again, arms full of his most precious candies, and stuffed them all into Payton's hands.
"Here, Your Highness, have some candy! Candy makes the pain go away!"
Payton looked down at the colorful candies in his hand, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He unwrapped one and popped it into his mouth.
"Sweet."
Kellan nodded in satisfaction, then dashed back to the inner room, calling out as he ran, "Mommy, Your Highness said the candy is sweet!"
Watching them, my eyes went red again.
He was just three, but already so mature it broke my heart.
He knew he couldn't call Payton "Dad," so he always addressed him as "Your Highness." But his fondness for Payton was etched deep into his very being. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't hide it.
Payton finished the candy and looked up at me.
"Your kid is really well-behaved."
"Yeah."
"His dad is truly blessed to have such a sweet son."
My heart tightened. I lowered my head, quietly tending to his injury.
Payton, you have no idea you're actually his dad.
Suddenly, Payton said, "Esme, when I got attacked today, something flashed in my mind."
My hand froze.
"What was it?"
"There was a woman in a red dress, standing somewhere high up, and she turned back to look at me."
"I couldn't make out her face, but I just knew she was crying."
His voice was soft, as if he was remembering a distant dream.
"I don't know who she is, but seeing her cry really hurt me inside."
"It felt like my heart was being cut open."
My hands started to shake, and I could barely hold onto the bandage.
A woman in a red dress...
Standing way up high...
Turned back to look at him...
It was three years ago, the day I became Crown Princess. The Queen called me up for a lecture, and as I stood atop the city wall, I turned back and glanced at him.
I was wearing a red wedding dress, tears running down my face. He stood below, his eyes, which was usually soft and bright, were so red they looked like they might bleed.
He came over, carried me down from the wall, and with a hoarse voice said, "Don't cry. I'll make sure you never have to cry again."
But in the end, I still cried so many times after that.
He might have lost his memories and forgotten everything, but deep down, his heart still held onto it all.
He still remembered the woman in the red dress, remembered her tears, and the ache that hit him every time he saw her cry.
I blinked hard, pushing back my tears and keeping my voice as calm as I could. "Maybe it was just a bad dream."
"Is that so?" He locked eyes with me, then suddenly said, "But somehow, it just feels like that woman was you."
My heart skipped a beat.
"You must be kidding, Your Highness. I really don't know you."
"Really?" He chuckled softly, reaching out to grip my chin. "Esme, the way you look at me is nothing like how you'd look at a stranger."
"It's like you're staring at a lover who's been gone for ages."
I stiffened, almost losing control of my expression.
He saw right through me.
Even after losing his memory, this guy was still as sharp as ever.