Holy Night: My Husband is Definitely a Paladin - Chapter 163

“Sir Michael!”

Reyna stood up and greeted him warmly.

Michael gave a polite nod to her, bowing his head slightly.

His demeanor was no different from the first time they had met.

Seeing him like this, Irene realized anew how much their relationship had changed.

“I apologize for appearing like this. Embarrassingly, I was injured during a subjugation and came to ask for purification.”

As he spoke, he rolled up his sleeve to show his arm.

Just as he said, there was a wound about the length of a palm.

But it was only a shallow scratch, and the bleeding had already stopped, leaving a scab.

By his previous standards, this wouldn’t even have been considered a wound—just a mark.

Yet here he was, presenting it and asking for purification.

Perhaps realizing how absurd his request sounded, he quickly pulled his sleeve back down before Reyna could rise to inspect it.

“Oh my, you’ve been hurt as well.”

Reyna, who hadn’t even seen the so-called wound, stood up in surprise.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to talk in private.”

While urgent purification was unavoidable, it was generally regarded as private time for pairs.

Reyna hurriedly gathered her belongings, telling them they must have a lot to catch up on after being so busy.

“Wait, Reyna. We weren’t finished discussing—”

“Come on, it’s nothing urgent. See you tomorrow!”

Irene had sent her a silent plea for help, but whether Reyna failed to notice or was simply ignoring it, she just smiled brightly, waved, and left the room.

Clack!

The sound of the door closing echoed briefly. Irene stood there for a moment before slowly turning around.

Gone was the proper and composed knight from just moments earlier. In his place stood Michael, arms crossed and wearing a disgruntled expression.

He now looked no different from a young man his age sulking over some trivial matter.

Seeing him like this, Irene let out a sigh in her mind.

‘Am I crazy?’

How could she find this side of him endearing now?

The wall she had built around her heart seemed to crack, and she could almost hear it crumbling completely.

“You haven’t even greeted me properly, though it’s been a while since we last met.”

That petulant tone, combined with his pouty voice…

Irene chuckled softly and walked up to him.

“Could it be because of a pair who’s asking for purification over something that can’t even be called a wound?”

“It hurts.”

Though she pointed out his blatant excuse, Michael replied with even more audacious sincerity.

“This tiny scratch hurts you? The same person who didn’t let out so much as a groan while bleeding heavily?”

“I must have weak arms.”

“The injury back then was also on your arm.”

“Must have been the other arm.”

“…How long do you plan to keep lying about being in pain?”

“Until my pair empathizes deeply with my suffering and purifies me with all her heart.”

At his shameless reply, Irene threw up her hands in surrender.

Standing in front of him, she reached out, cupping his face with both hands.

Rising onto her tiptoes, she pressed her lips to his.

Chu—

It was a light kiss, as though a mother bird were feeding her chick.

And just from that, his sulky expression visibly softened.

Yet his lips moved again, complaining in a grumbly voice.

“It’s not enough.”

He lowered his head, making his lips even easier to reach. This time, Irene gave him a deeper, longer kiss.

Before their lips had even parted, he spoke again.

“This much won’t heal my wound.”

He nudged his lips forward slightly, as if to say, keep going.

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