“Let me help you up,” Julian said, reaching for my arm.I pulled it back before his hand could close around it. “I’m fine.”“You’re clearly not fine. You’re bleeding.”“Marta’s already getting the kit.” I looked past him, toward the top of the stairs. “I don’t need your help.”Marta returned a moment later with the first aid kit, and I let her clean the cut on my arm while Julian stood there watching. “I can carry you to your room. He said. “Your knee..”“I can walk.”I couldn’t, not easily, but I got up anyway, gripping the railing hard. Julian reached out again, and I stepped away from his hand before it landed.“Francesca.”“I’m fine, Julian.”I made it up the remaining stairs on my own, even though I was slower.I didn’t hear from Julian again until a few days passed. I was in the drawing room, sketching, when he appeared in the doorway.“How’s your knee?” He asked.“Healing.”“Good.” He didn’t come in but he stood there for a moment, then left.As the week went by, I stopped eati
Last Updated : 2026-09-21 Read more