While Desmond vented his frustration with a stream of curses, completely engrossed in healing Laura's wounds, he remained oblivious to the tender gaze she cast upon him. Ahhhh... the young master's face is so close, she thought, her heart fluttering at the proximity.
Little did Desmond know that Laura, under his explicit instructions, had already mended several critical injuries, making the wounds appear more fatal than they actually were. This clandestine act had drained her energy considerably, and as she recalled the events in the haunting forest, goosebumps prickled her skin.
"For a moment there, I thought the young master no longer needed me," Laura whispered to herself, her voice barely audible amidst the tense air. She couldn't help but feel both fearful and entranced by her young master's cold and impassive demeanor. The forest had evoked a mix of emotions within her—fear, undoubtedly, but also pleasure, excitement, and a profound sense of awe.