Somehow, Byleth senses that a certain part of Goneril is warm in the winter.

Even as a child, Hilda was not a big fan of winter.

Sure, the snow was pretty, an absolutely calming sight as they covered trees and grass like a blank canvas; she especially loved watching the snow fall from the windows of her room when she had been living at the estate.

But that was it, she loved admiring it from the inside. It was a different story when she had to be outside.

To be fair, she wasn't a big fan of summer either, so perhaps to be more general, she hated both extreme heat or cold. She hated the warm, humid air that made her skin unbearably sticky with sweat, and she hated the chilly winds which numbed her limbs with prickly sensations. For those reasons, she often stayed indoors most of her life before entering the academy. Thinking about it, it was likely a factor why the term "lazy" had been associated with her ever since. She could recall all the nagging she received from her parents for always waking up late in the winter, along with her brother's nagging when he tried to convince her to train with him under the heat of the scorching sun.

But she couldn't help it if her skin was more sensitive, right? If her body was a lot "weaker" compared to her brother's obviously more resilient one. . .

. . . But of course, she wasn't certain if that was just her giving excuses for herself. In the end, maybe she really was lazy and was just using the weather as an excuse so she need not overexert herself.

What was the point of overexerting herself when she couldn't meet the standard anyway? Why bother, right?

That had been her line of thought in her younger years, anyway, her justifications for staying in her room in the coldest days of the winter.

It was the third week of the Guardian Moon. The temperature dropped even more as it was nearing the Pegasus Moon, the coldest month of the year.

The child version of herself would likely be shocked to know that there would come a day wherein Hilda would finally leave her room by her own volition . . . to ride a horse—wielding a weapon, no less, among all other things—in a cold winter day. And it wasn't even out of necessity, meaning there was no war, no imminent threat.

It was because Dimitri suggested it. And no, it wasn't about her giving in to whatever he was suggesting and certainly not because of her feelings or whatever, but it had been her who brought out the topic when she asked him what he did to prevent himself from freezing in the winter. After all, he came from Faerghus, so he should be an expert with matters of handling the cold.

He answered that he trained. A lot.

She wanted to smack herself because she should've expected it. But of course he did—training a lot. She was willing to bet that he likely had spent more time in the academy training grounds than his own dormitory room. That would also explain his monstrous strength too.

Just as she was about to retort that no, she wasn't really willing to let herself train even if it's super cold, because why in blazes would she involve herself in an activity that she actively tried to avoid in the academy when Dimitri clutched his hands in front of him in an almost giddy way that it made her prior thoughts crumble pathetically to dust.

"I say, it certainly is a nice activity to be involved with. Never hurts to give our muscles a little burn."

She highly doubted that the burn he gave his muscles were only "a little."

"It should also be a perfect opportunity to test your riding skills as well. You have shared that the axe is your weapon of choice, right? I know of many great knights proficient in both fields."

He continued to speak in detail how he thought she possessed even greater potential than said knights to the point where she was rendered speechless with such compliments. Eventually he was even suggesting going to the neighbor's house to lend some materials for their little impromptu training regimen.

She wanted to argue that she hadn't even agreed to it in the first place, but she figured it was too late anyway, since the next thing she knew, she was following after him outside—the cold outside?!

"You will be training?" the elderly woman said as her husband gathered the weapons they had back in their soldier days. "My, this is a surprise, Lady Hilda!"

It was definitely a surprise.

She resigned to it, anyway, since it was something she brought upon herself. Besides, it was a rare sight seeing him so eager, so full of life that she found him so . . . cute? That she couldn't resist it?

Grr, fine, maybe it was her stupid feelings' fault.

And Dimitri as well. Cute, dangerous Dimitri's fault.

The little training eventually commenced, which started pretty tame at first. She warmed up riding her horse as Dimitri watched over, providing instructions as he walked alongside them. Gradually, the horse's pace increased until Dimitri was no longer beside her.

The chilly winds were no joke; she especially felt them crawling against her skin the more the horse galloped across the fields. Thoughts of regret surged in her head: why was she even there and not in her comfortable bed?!

"You're really doing well, Hilda!" she heard him say from afar. Truthfully she found his enthusiastic pep talk so unexpected, that she grew conscious of her rapid heartbeat. She wasn't sure if it was due (a) that, (b) her stress of the current situation, (c) his little training actually working its magic, or (d) all of the above.

Before she even realized it, her body was feeling warm, a stark contrast against the rushing cool winds surrounding her. The heat even escalated when he handed her a training axe, which she used to slash some dummies he positioned at the other end of the field.

In no time, the distaste she initially had for the activity was momentarily forgotten, that she even found herself handing a training lance to Dimitri so they could have a little spar. . ?

Wait a second, she—Hilda—initiating a sparring match? Who knew such unthinkable thing was possible?! She blamed it on the intense pump of blood in her veins, along with the thought that it shouldn't just be her sweating bullets underneath the many layers of clothing. The weird, icky sensation of sweat was very oddly satisfying against the cool air, that she didn't think it was such a bad feeling. . . In fact, she thought it must be shared!

After several exchanges of blows later, they ended up falling on the snowy ground, dropping their weapons as they sat up.

"Sheesh, Dimitri! You're so crazy strong, y'know, you monster." It came out without her thinking much about it, but it seemed to have caught him off-guard that she began to regret saying it, recalling their late night conversation before. . .

But before she could apologize for such a careless comment, he laughed.

"Well, for you to keep up with a monster like me, doesn't that make you a monster yourself?"

She didn't anticipate his reaction; in fact, she thought it should've opened up past wounds, for both him and her. . .

. . .but perhaps it did, as she recognized a brief dull pang in her core. Or was that just the feeling of her sore muscles? She wasn't certain but she decided to brush it off aside anyway, turning her attention to what's at present. Dimitri was looking at her, waiting for her response.

"Forgive me, was that too unbecoming of me—"

She shook her head as she held his arm, hopefully stopping him from whatever doubt that he had.

She chuckled.

"No, no. I don't mind it at all!"

And she meant it, truly. Another surge of warmth enveloped her body at the thought that perhaps, the wounds they garnered from the past were healing, no matter how gradual.

Snow began falling on their heads, and it was only then when Hilda realized how sloppy her trousers felt against the snow. Dimitri stood first, holding out his hand towards her.

"Best not to prolong our stay here. I would really hate for us to be both sick at these conditions."

She stared at his hand before taking it, smiling in the process. She felt happy to confirm that he was thinking more for himself. . .though it dawned to her he was only likely thinking how he'd be an inconvenience for her should he become sick, meaning he was actually thinking of her again. Well, baby steps, but she was hopeful he'd get there one day.

"Right. I'm in serious need of a warm bath right now though," she said as they began walking back to her house, "I'm sure you do, too. Care to join me?"

Dimitri stopped in his tracks.

Hilda herself was surprised with her words, the warmth rushing quickly back to her cheeks. Despite being used to the flirting game, she realized she hadn't actually did so with someone she genuinely liked, and she didn't know how. . . flustering it actually was to just casually say it like that. . .

She tried to focus on Dimitri's reactions instead in an attempt to control the situation. His face had turned red, which she expected. He didn't utter a word—something expected too.

"Well?" She was rather proud to have managed a straight face even when she was burning in embarrassment on the inside, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"I-I was waiting for you to say that you are kidding," he remarked, "Surely it is inappropriate."

Also an expected response. . .

"Inappropriate because . . . I am afraid the bath is too small for the both of us."

Her jaw dropped momentarily—because that was unexpected. Dimitri covered his mouth with his hand as he looked away. She tried not to think much about what he was insinuating nor the imagery of such circumstances and instead concluded that it was his attempt at humor to save both themselves from the awkward situation.

So she laughed, probably harder than she intended to. Not like she expected him to take her seriously, right?

"Nice comeback, Dimitri! You definitely are improving!"

"Is that so," he replied, chuckling, though he still didn't quite meet her gaze, "I am glad, then, though I only really learn from the opportunities that my mentor gives me."

He smiled. He had been smiling more as the days passed, and she noticed how less strained they were, how much more relaxed they were becoming. She didn't notice that the mere observation kept her thoughts away from the chilly winds of winter.

Dimitri was not very fond of delicate work. . . He was simply not "cut out for that sort of thing."

That's what he told himself as he stared at the fifth bottle that crumbled with just his fingers. Along with the circular plastic beads cracked into half. And the pair of kitchen scissors that Hilda decided to give to him after he broke two of her small ones.

Really, he admired her patience with him.

Hilda picked up the pendant that he made, or at least, that pathetic excuse of a pendant that he attempted to do: inside the hardened resin that had awkward, smooshed edges marked with his fingerprints were torn petals of different colors. He wanted to say that he deliberately tore them apart for aesthetic purposes but that was obviously a lie.

"Well, to be completely objective, this certainly has some charm in it," she said, twirling it around her fingertips as she inspected it.

"You are too kind. Or perhaps you meant it possesses the charm of something that looks like it was made by a ten year old child." Actually, a ten year old probably would've done a better job than him.

She tried to stifle a laugh. "Give yourself credit, at least. I mean, that's your first successful pendant, right?"

Comparing her works that had smooth edges and completely intact petals, he would say that his work was far from successful. He heard her sigh, likely noticing that he had been staring at her creations.

"You're being too harsh on yourself, Dimitri."

He looked at her questioningly. "Shouldn't that how things should be? For myself to improve?"

"Well, fine, I get your point, but have you ever heard of the term 'moderation?'"

He turned to her with curiosity.

"It's good that you give your all most of the time, but sometimes you also need to remember to lessen the effort exerted. That's especially needed for delicate work; you need to give just enough that you don't end up dropping the beads from your fingers but not too much that you end up breaking them."

"I really try to keep that in mind, but it seems I do not possess the capacity to do so." In particular, it made him recall a childhood memory—how Felix was so visibly upset when Dimitri broke a prized weapon by accident. "This seems to be something that exists since I was born."

"Hmm, I don't believe you." Hilda placed a hand under her chin. "If you really didn't have the capacity to do some regulation, then shouldn't you have injured me in our sparring the previous day?"

Well, wasn't that just because she was equally strong and able to hold him off?

. . .And of course, how he really didn't want to hurt her at the same time.

She giggled, likely catching how deep in thought he was.

"See? Do you get what I mean?"

He nodded slowly. Perhaps he did?

"Great! While it's certainly admirable to always give your best efforts, just remember to think of yourself too. Thinking about it, that doesn't just apply to crafts too, y'know?"

He thanked her, her words shedding a new light in his mind.

The following day, Dimitri accompanied her to the marketplace, at the location where she met up with the merchant of her accessories. She was delighted to receive news that regardless of the season, the sales of her creations were doing really well. It delighted her so much, that when they reached home, she found herself reading the book that Holst had given her.

"This is. . . rather unusual of you," Dimitri pointed out, who was sitting across from her at the dining table. He was carefully trying to loop together pieces of silver wire to create his own chain.

"I could say the same thing to you, you know."

"Well, I am simply trying to take your advice to heart, putting it into practice. Thank you for the opportunity." He smiled. "So does this mean you are finally taking your first step to attain your dream?"

"Maybe I am?" She'd like to think she was, especially after reading Holst's latest letter mentioning potential areas to set the school up. Instead of the usual uncertainty, she recognized a flicker of excitement in her heart. . . though perhaps it was also likely due to her current happiness which made her rather optimistic. "Although honestly, this 'first step' is kind of challenging. There are some parts that I find hard to grasp, especially in this chapter. "

"Well, will you allow me to offer help?" When she nodded, he transferred to the seat just beside her. He took the book as she handed it to him.

Dimitri started browsing through it, relaying his thoughts as he did. He was by no means an expert in school management, but with his background on matters of authority and administration, he managed to provide useful insights that made her understand the topic a little better. After some related discussions, he mentioned that apart from choosing the location, another factor to consider were the educators. Hilda found herself nodding, because that made sense. If the school would become big enough, surely she couldn't handle it by herself. Perhaps she should start trying to keep in touch with others. . . like Ignatz, maybe?

"I mean, just like a Kingdom would only stand with great knights supporting and backing it up, a school would only really last with the support of educators. Of course, I am not downgrading the role of a head, as they also provide an essential role in keeping everything together. . ."

Then his voice drifted away, as if it just dawned on him what he was saying, and Hilda noticed how his hand twitched. She quickly caught on, placing her hand onto his shoulder.

"Dimitri. . . You don't have to force yourself."

"I know. Please forgive me for this diversion."

The air turned discomfiting. Hilda attempted to lighten things up by allowing her head to bump onto his shoulder. She pointed back to the book.

"Anyway, you make these things sound so easy!"

He wasn't looking at the book; he knew his gaze was on her, especially with her sudden action. If he was bothered by it, it didn't show because he made no motion to move away.

"Well, to be fair, I've been educated on similar matters since I was a child, so don't look too down on yourself."

As he said those words, she wondered about his thoughts of going home and retaking the throne again, if he even considered it. . .

"But you know, should you pursue this further, I have no doubt you'd eventually produce talented craftsmen. I can already imagine the prospering trades and interests in the arts from all over the region."

"Aww! You flatter me so much, Dimitri! Well, could you please continue to teach me?"

As he obliged, she decided not to bring any of her prior thoughts to light—it was probably best if he initiated speaking about the topic right? So she listened on instead, leaning on his shoulder the whole time as she did. Dimitri didn't seem to mind.

The following week, Hilda greeted him with another set of good news: she had scouted possible areas for her academy.

The sun was setting by the time she arrived back at the cabin. The rays peeking from the windows illuminated her skin with bright orange hues as she narrated the places she had been to with contained excitement. He thought the image was fitting; the sun radiated her energy and presence even more.

"I think the location near the borders of Ordelia was nice. . . I really loved the view," she said with such a dreamy look on her face. "Though Holst told me that it's likely better if we set it up near the capital. I mean sure, maybe the place is more spacious but I bet he only really wanted that because it's near our family estate."

She continued speaking with such an animated and eager way that completely drew him in. Seeing her so full of life, Dimitri couldn't help but be captivated, that he paid no heed to the lingering, betraying twist in his gut at the possible implications it would have with their arrangements. . .

One night, Dimitri had witnessed her again in another state of panic.

"What's wrong?"

"N-nothing!"

It was a lie, obviously. Hilda was looking for an unfinished letter she was supposed to send to Marianne, with contents that had something to do with how charming and sweet and caring the "stranger at the marketplace" was and all the things she wished to do with him!

Sure, it wasn't as dire as the whole Holst situation, but. . .

Her. Whole. Dignity. Was in the line!

"I'm—I'm just looking for something!"

Dimitri was obviously very worried, which made her a little guilty.

"Well, can I be of any help—"

"Nope!" she dismissed immediately, "Nothing you should trouble yourself with!"

Despite her words, she knew he'd help anyway, because that's what sort of person he was—too helpful and nice to a fault that totally did not help in keeping her feelings in line but grr—! It wasn't the time for her to gush over him because she just needed to be fast—

"Is it this, perhaps?"

In his hands was the very piece of pink parchment that she had been looking for, which he must've picked up on the chair hidden under the shadows of the dining table. The letter was flicked open, and she knew, based from his gaze, that even if he had no real intention of reading it whatsoever, he must've at least browsed a sentence from it.

Her cheeks burned hard.

She just hoped, prayed to the goddess that it wasn't the line about how much she wanted to be with him and probably just kiss all his worries away and—!

In her extremely flustered state, she knew she didn't have it in her to command him NOT to read it; instead, she only did the most logical thing in her mind:

She charged at him and tackled him to the ground.

Causing him to land on the floor with her on top.

Dimitri definitely didn't see that coming, so while he was likely recovering, she took the chance to snatch the letter from his hand.

"Yes, it is this!" She waved the letter in her hands. "Thanks!"

Dimitri did not speak a word, only looking at her as she was catching her breath. The color of his face turned redder by the second.

It took her incredibly long to realize how. . .compromising their position was, with her legs straddling his torso, faces too dangerously close that she immediately retracted back to give him breathing space.

"You know, you. . . could've just asked," he muttered, refusing to meet her gaze, "And I would've given it to you."

In the end, she was just thankful he made no clarifications about what he could have possibly read from the letter.

It was the 3rd day of the Pegasus Moon.

Dimitri already concluded it was no ordinary day, the moment she stepped out of her room wearing garments that he had not seen her wearing before.

Hilda had always been radiant in his eyes, but seeing her wearing such an exquisite dress, with fabrics dyed in pastel hues that matched the color of her hair perfectly. . . It was truly a most beautiful sight to behold.

"What is the occasion?" he managed to ask.

She glanced to the side as her cheeks flushed. "Well, it's my birthday, so. . ."

His eyebrows perked up at the revelation. "A—h! Happy birthday!—You didn't tell me, I wish I could've prepared something—"

"It's fine, it's fine! You don't have to give me anything." The bright smile on her face assured him of the sincerity behind her words. "Though I do have a question to ask."

"What is it?"

"Would you like to come with me at my family estate? There's actually just a small gathering, and I want to introduce you to my family."

If he was surprised with the occasion, he was even more surprised with what she was suggesting.

"Well, my brother might be a little surprised, I'm sure, but once he knows the situation, I'm sure he wouldn't force you or anything since he's really understanding, so. . ."

Truly, he was delighted. Delighted that she thought of inviting someone like him to such a special celebration. Delighted that she even considered it. Delighted that she thought of him. The whole idea excited him, if he were to be truly honest. . .

. . . However. . .

"I. . ." It took everything in him to continue what he was about to say. "I do not think it is such a good idea."

Because it definitely wasn't. Possibilities of conflicting interests may arise, and he did not wish to involve her family in his already complicated situation. It wasn't even about him doubting her trust on her brother. If he really was as good-natured as she implied—which he actually believed with great confidence—all the more he felt like he shouldn't impose.

Hilda didn't even ask for his reasons. Instead, she gave him a sad smile. An uncomfortable knot dulled in his core sensing her disappointment.

"To be honest, I kind of expected your answer. But it was worth a try, I guess."

The sound of a carriage arriving outside reached his ears.

"Well, I guess I'll be going now. Take care of yourself, okay? I don't want to hear any news of you sleeping outside again, or. . . Or, I'll tackle you down again, you hear?"

He managed to muster a smile. "I will. Please take care too, and I wish you a delightful celebration."

"Thank you. I'll be back by tomorrow, so don't miss me too much, okay?" she winked at him, causing his heart to flutter fondly.

His gaze lingered on her withdrawing form, walking away with refined grace until the door had closed. As it happened, it dawned on him that he also wanted to be someone Hilda could proudly introduce to her family, not someone she needed to defend with hushed whispers. . .

He wanted to be someone worthy to stand beside someone as radiant as her.

Hours after Hilda had left, Dimitri decided to dedicate his whole day on producing a gift for her. Buying one was out of the question; it pained him to think that he had to borrow from her stash of coins because he hadn't brought any money for himself when he left Fhirdiad.

The problem was that he actually possessed no skills for anything outside combat training and weapon repairs. He could probably gift her with something practical like a knife but then again, he had no resources to obtain one.

As he was thinking of his options, his gaze moved to the bracelet around his wrist—the one she had given to him on his birthday.

Well, his accessory-making skills were mediocre if he gave himself full credit, but at least it somehow existed, thanks to Hilda.

After making sure he was perfectly clothed for the cold outside, he exited the cabin and explored the nearby forest, looking for fresh flowers with perfectly intact petals.

The rest of the day was spent on him trying to preserve the collected flowers with the materials available in her kit ( he made a mental note to eventually pay her for all the materials he used and broke ), along with connecting them on the chain he had been making the past days. By the time he was done, it was already night time. It consumed much of his energy that he opted for a simple meal before retreating to the sofa at the common area. The air was significantly cooler in the winter night; he didn't bother lighting the fireplace throughout evening, because again, wouldn't it be suspicious if Hilda wasn't there? Besides it's not like it was something he wasn't used to.

Not long had passed, he felt his eyes shutting from fatigue; his respect for artisans just increased tenfold. Just as he was about to drift off, he caught the familiar sound of horses' hooves trotting outside, which successfully jolted him awake. His brows furrowed hearing the rattling sounds of keys by the door.

Hilda?

He confirmed his suspicions soon enough when Hilda emerged from the door, rubbing her arms with her hands with such a fierce manner.

"Sheesh, why is it so cold here? You already put out the fire at the fireplace?"

Instead of answering her question, he blurted out what's on his mind.

"Why are you here? I thought you'll return tomorrow?"

She darted to his spot and took a seat beside him. She was shivering, trying to pull her cloak closely together.

"Well, I guess I just missed this place! Been my home ever since the war ended, y'know? But wait, you didn't answer me!" He wasn't given the chance to clarify the truth when Hilda reached the answers herself. "That's the wood from yesterday. . ."

"Y-yes," he answered lamely.

"You didn't light the fireplace tonight," she said flatly. When she demanded answers, he responded with honesty.

Then her expression completely changed, her features softening, and he wondered what she must have been thinking.

"Should I light the fireplace for you, then?" he offered, seeing how she was obviously still cold.

"It's fine. You were about to sleep anyway, right?" She eyed the blankets covering his legs, giggling. "I'm surprised to see you down so early."

He blushed, remembering something. "Which reminds me."

He reached for the bracelet placed on the table in front of them. He witnessed how Hilda's eyes widened as he handed it to her.

"A bracelet? With several charms?"

"Y-yes. I am a bit embarrassed with such an amateur end-product but I did my best—"

She embraced his arm as she donned the accessory through her wrist.

"Thank you, I'm sure you really must've worked so hard. . . You're so sweet, Dimitri. I love it."

With her words, he forgot what he had been sputtering.

"It has been a pleasure to make," he said instead.

"Thinking about it, I'm not really that proud of what I made for you for your birthday either. How about we promise each other to make something a lot better one day?"

"Okay, then."

Their conversation ended in comfortable silence, with Hilda still holding onto his arm. He knew she had a tiring day, and would likely drift off to sleep in no time. . .

But shouldn't she be back to her room?

And then he quickly realized why. She was no longer quivering from the cold.

Dimitri liked to think that months of being with Hilda made him understand how her mind worked. He knew she wasn't simply someone who wanted others to do things for her, like how she described herself. To be specific, she wasn't one who actively sought for help; rather, she was the type to wait until that sort of help was offered.

"Hilda?"

"Hmm?"

"If you feel discomfited with what I'm about to do, please tell me immediately."

Before she could react further, he took the blanket and placed it over both of their shoulders, before his own arms enveloped her body.

"I. . . would like to keep you warm, if you'd allow me."

It was a bold offer, he knew, but he pushed through with it despite his own lingering embarrassment. Because a thought crept up within him, recalling how upset she was the first time she had to leave him for her trip to Garreg Mach. Was it presumptuous of him to think that perhaps the main reason why she returned in the first place was because she was worried for him, even when she had no reason to be? Therefore he was the reason why she was cold even when she could've been comfortable in her own room at the estate. . .

He couldn't see her face from his angle, but he could tell she was flustered the same.

"W-well, okay, since you offered. . ."

A feeling of relief and warmth rushed onto him hearing her response.

He thought it could've been fine, but as the moments passed, he could tell she was far from comfortable—sitting beside each other, her body was stiff around him, and his own arms were feeling awkward trying to embrace her with the most ample amount of force possible. She wasn't saying anything though, likely out of politeness. How then could she fall into the slumber that she deserved. . ?

He decided on his next plan.

Without any warning, he released his arms from the embrace, which caused a brief look of confusion to appear on her face. She wasn't able to react further as he effortlessly scooped her up into his arms.

"D-Dimitri?!"

"We shall transfer to your room." It was another bold declaration, he knew, that he was certain his own face had likely turned into a deep shade of red. He was eternally thankful for the shadows of the night that concealed it.

"My room?!" she remarked with incredulity before her voice toned down significantly, "Wouldn't you think that's improper?"

It's rather funny how things had been the other way around, he thought. It was so unusual seeing her flustered. . .that he found her even more adorable. The very thought sent warm flutterings in his stomach.

"It is. . . not," he simply remarked, trying to keep himself together as he carefully laid her down her bed. "Because as you have said. We are a grown man and a woman."

Hilda's eyes widened at his words. He quickly clarified.

"Therefore, we know what classifies as proper and improper."

She nodded vigorously. "R-right! We're just going to sleep beside each other; I mean, we did it one afternoon, right? No big deal!"

He awkwardly let himself sit on the spot just beside her when she started removing the various accessories on her head, letting her hair fall onto her shoulders. She even began casting off her cloak, causing his heart to race even more.

"W-what?" she remarked, giving him a weird look, "I'm just removing my cloak! No way I'm sleeping in such heavy clothes!"

He blinked.

"—And my necklace—"

He blinked even more as his pulse escalated. Was the goddess testing him?

"And that's it! I mean, I'd really rather change into my sleepwear too but!" She allowed her head to fall onto the pillows. "This should be fine!"

He nodded, breathing heavily as he let himself down beside her. To his surprise, Hilda scooted closer to him.

"Well, what are you doing? I thought you're gonna keep me warm. . ."

"O-of course—"

He immediately obliged, pulling her closer with his arms. He watched her steady breathing as he tried to calm his heart.

"There are plenty of other ways to keep me warm, you know," he heard her mutter. His heart skipped, recalling certain contents of the letter that he read by accident. Surely, she wasn't suggesting—?

"I mean, I was fine at the couch, but you just had to bring me all the way here. A warm cup of tea could've worked too, y'know. Or you could've just insisted on lighting up that fireplace for me."

He wanted the goddess to punish him for having such obscene thoughts about her.

Before he could even reprimand himself in his mind, Hilda shifted from her position, uncurling herself and looking at him straight in the eyes. They were really too close that it was likely bad for his heart. . .

She reached out her hand and poked him on the cheek, grinning.

"You're really so excessive sometimes."

"Is that a bad thing?"

She chuckled lightly, before retracting back to her initial position. "I guess sometimes, it could be a good thing. . ."

He thought about her words again, until he knew she had fallen asleep. . . Eventually, he also joined her into slumber. For the first time since winter had arrived, they had slept without much worries, their minds simply thinking of the person beside them.