Love's Unexpected Awakening Elowen's Choice novel Chapter 138

Chapter 138 You Don’t Have to Get Used to It

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The words were spoken to Leonhart, but they seemed equally meant to reassure himself.

By dusk, the rain eased for a while.

As night fell, it began again, a gentle, steady drizzle.

Duskmoor Manor was enveloped in dampness.

That night, as Elowen was loosening her hair, Cora came in and said, “Her Majesty the Queen sends word. She invites Your Grace to the palace tomorrow afternoon for a talk.”

Elowen agreed.

After washing up, she found Cassian already in bed, reading.

Remembering Hugh’s instructions filled her with embarrassment. She braced herself, kept a steady face, and moved forward, slipping past him to lie down on the inside.

Just as she was wondering how to broach the subject, Cassian spoke first. “Do they hurt?”

“…Hmm?” Elowen was momentarily confused.

“Your knees,” he added.

Elowen smiled, “Oh, I’m used to it. They don’t hurt.”

Cassian set his book aside and looked at her.

Under his

gaze,

all

pretense seemed to evaporate. Her smile faltered slightly.

“Ella,” Cassian said, his voice gentle. “It’s okay to say they hurt. You don’t have to get used to it.”

Elowen stared at him, her eyes suddenly stinging.

In her past life, her knees had always hurt terribly, especially on rainy days.

At the end of her first year of marriage, during a long, wet, bitterly cold snowfall in Vanelle, the pain had been unbearable.

Alaric was taking her to pay respects to his parents. She walked slowly. He grew impatient. “Are you doing this on purpose?”

She shook her head, explaining earnestly, “My knees hurt.”

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Chapter 138 You Don’t Have to Get Used to t

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Back then, she had naively hoped he might soften, say, ‘If it hurts, rest a while. I’ll wait.

Instead, Alaric had frowned and asked, “Is today the first time they hurt?”

Elowen had been puzzled. “What?”

He had stared at her, his expression strange. “If it’s not the first day, then you should be used to it by now. Besides, how bad can knee pain be

Those words seemed to echo faintly in her ears.

But they faded, replaced by Cassian’s voice.

“You don’t have to get used to it.”

Realizing her eyes were wet, Elowen hurriedly lowered her gaze.

“Shall I massage them for you?” Cassian asked, setting his book down entirely.

Surprisingly, Elowen didn’t refuse.

She sat on the bed, pulling her pant legs up past her knees, revealing slender, pale calves.

Her knees were smooth, showing no outward scars.

The pain was hidden beneath the skin, deep in the bone.

Cassian’s hand settled over one knee.

His palm was exceptionally broad, marked with calluses, slightly rough but wonderfully

warm.

He applied pressure, not too light, not too heavy Whether it was her imagination or not, the pain seemed to lessen.

She looked at her knee, and for the first time, noticed a distinct scar on the web of Cassian’s thumb and forefinger. She hadn’t seen it before

Men who served in the military bore scars. Someone like Cassian, with years of service, likely had countless marks all over, much like her father had.

She was curious about this particular scar but felt shy about asking.

“This scar,” Cassian began, as if reading her thoughts, “I got it saving the King.”

Elowen looked at him in surprise. “Really?”

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