Jeanne Could Only Be His Wife 

In the vast room.

On the huge bed.

Jeanne lay on the bed and looked into Fourth Master Swan's deep eyes. She stared straight at the wound on her collarbone.

The injury there was more serious. The broken glass of the car window pierced straight into her flesh, leaving a very deep wound that looked ferocious.

His slender fingers were using iodophor to disinfect her wound, bit by bit.

"Doesn't it hurt?" Fourth Master Swan asked.

His voice was low and deep.

"It's alright," Jeanne answered.

'It's good that you're used to it.'

'Bear with it, you can get over it anyway.' Thoughts like this appeared in Jeanne's mind

"I'm in pain," Fourth Master Swan suddenly said.

Something flashed across Jeanne's eyes.

From her angle, she could only see Fourth Master Swan's lowered eyes, and his eyelashes were unusually thick and curled up.

There was a hint of familiarity, and it even made her a little absent-minded.