The Banished Black Swordsman Wants a Peaceful Life with the White Saint in the Frontier ~Huh? You Want Him to Come Back with the Saint? It’s Already Too Late~ - 35

Chapter 35: A Heart-Pounding Awakening

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The chirping of small birds overlapped delicately, swaying with the wind that passed through the leaves. Morning light filtering through the gaps in the wooden window cast mottled golden patches across the grain of the old floorboards. The faint scent of resin and the lingering warmth of bedding that had held body heat until last night. The world seemed to be slowly waking up. Lloyd took in these small shifts in his surroundings with a hazy awareness across his skin.

The back of his eyelids glowed faintly white. Only then did Lloyd notice that his breathing was shallower than usual, and that his body felt strangely warm.

What is this weight? Or rather… There’s something warm on me?

He slowly lifted his eyelids. At the edge of his vision, strands of pale silver fluttered softly into view. Silver-white hair. A sweet scent, reminiscent of flowers yet slightly richer, tickled his nose. When he lowered his gaze to his chest, he saw a small head resting there.

The “White Saint,” Lusha, was in Lloyd’s arms.

Both arms, to be exact. One had slipped around her shoulder and back, while the other had come to rest naturally atop her waist. It seemed that she had moved closer during the night, and Lloyd, in turning over, had ended up holding her in an embrace. Lusha’s arms were wrapped around Lloyd’s torso, her face nuzzling against his chest. Though the outside air was cool, the inside of the blanket was soft and warm.

Wh— hold on!? What is this situation!? This isn’t a dream, right!?

His heart thumped sharply once. Lusha’s breath slipped through the gap of his clothes to touch his skin. Between her steady, rhythmic breaths, a faint murmur blended in.

“…Lloyd.”

Soft, sweet. Just hearing his name sent a tingling sensation racing down his back. His rationality felt as if it were peeling away like thin paper. 

No, hold it together. Hold it together!

He couldn’t let the boundary he’d barely managed to protect last night collapse now from the remnants of sleepiness. Still in her dreams, Lusha murmured again.

“I don’t want to be alone anymore. Please… Stay with me.”

Her tone was like that of a young girl seeking comfort, yet carried a nuance almost like a lover’s plea. Having gone straight from novice nun to Saint, she had likely never been allowed to rely on anyone at all. That thought passed through Lloyd’s mind, and his chest tightened painfully. A desire to protect her, and a desire to pull her close and hold her in return, rose simultaneously up his throat.

A-Anyway, this position is bad.

Lloyd tried to gently shift his body away. But the hold around his waist suddenly tightened. Lusha’s arms hugged him back firmly. She was surprisingly strong. He couldn’t move like this.

“Uh… Miss Lusha? Morning… Has come, you know…?”

He whispered to her. Her long eyelashes trembled faintly. Her eyelids lifted a little, and her pale blue eyes caught the light. But their focus was distant, drifting vaguely between dream and waking.

“Nn… So warm. It feels calming.”

Rubbing her cheek against his shoulder, she let out a voice full of childlike sweetness. This was bad. This was genuinely dangerous. Something inside him was slowly, quietly melting. At this rate, his rationality would definitely burn out. He had to do something—fast.

Lloyd steeled himself and applied a bit more strength to the hand on her shoulder, shaking her sleeping body more firmly.

“Hey—Lusha! Morning. It’s morning!”

Twice, three times. At last, Lusha’s eyes focused on him. A blink. Another. Then came a spark of understanding, and then—

“…Huh? Lloyd? —Eh!?”

Reality struck late. Her eyes flew wide open, and color flooded her cheeks to her ears in an instant. She sprang away from him, practically rolling to the far edge of the blanket. Realizing that she had been holding Lloyd in her arms, her hands fluttered awkwardly and a trembling voice spilled apologies.

“I—I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to—!”

“N-No, um, I— I woke up but couldn’t move or anything, so—”

Both excuses dissolved into the air. What remained was the restless fidgeting of fingers playing with the creases of the bedding, and the lingering shared warmth still trapped beneath the blanket. Outside the wooden window, the morning wind rustled through the leaves. The air in the room was crisp, yet his chest felt strangely hot.

A brief awkward silence fell between them. But it was different from the silence of last night, when they had both been nervously trying to decide how much distance to keep. It was more like the soft crackle when a new log is placed onto a campfire. It was subtle, but undeniably there in place of words. Lloyd slowly sat up, straightened the rumpled blankets, and cleared his throat to hide the rasp in it. It wasn’t that he wanted to run away. But if he didn’t retreat, his rationality truly might go on strike.

“…Anyway, I’ll go wash my face.”

“Y-Yes! I’ll prepare breakfast right away.”

Lusha gave a small bow by the pillows. Their eyes met. Lloyd expected her to quickly look away, yet she didn’t. For a single, brief beat, her wavering gaze lingered on his. A gentle warmth, something that hadn’t been there the night before, was clearly present.

“…What is it?”

“N-Nothing at all!”

The “White Saint,” smiling bashfully with embarrassment, and the “Black Swordsman,” hiding his own fluster behind a rough demeanor. It felt as though their true new life together had just begun.

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