On the way back, Altsin clung to Chelsea’s hand like glue, refusing to let go.

Chelsea glared at him coldly, but he didn’t budge.

He kept whining—one moment complaining about the cold, the next about pain—putting on quite the act. Chelsea couldn’t be bothered to entertain him.

It wasn’t until they arrived at the gates of Watercloud that Altsin reluctantly released her hand as he prepared to get out of the car. Chelsea noticed her palm was damp with sweat, though she wasn’t sure if it was his or hers.

“I’m off,” Altsin said, looking at her.

Chelsea responded with a curt “Mm,” her tone indifferent. “Goodbye.”

But Altsin didn’t...