"Andrew!" Marcel Horne, who was half-reclined, immediately scowled and chided in a low voice. This made Andrew Carter chuckle and then fall silent.

"Sister-in-law, you stay with the Company Commander for a while; we'll head out." The soldiers were all very considerate. As Ruby Bluen entered, they quickly made their way out, leaving the space for the two of them.

They liked Emma Wright and Tiffany Alvarez as well, but it was Ruby whom Marcel Horne loved, and they knew that. So, naturally, they hoped Ruby could seize the opportunity while Marcel was sick and emotionally vulnerable to win his heart and make him formally accept her feelings. That way, they could witness the union of a loving couple.

Ruby carried a cup of water to Marcel's bedside, where a small rectangular table was placed. She set the cup on the table and then sat down on the edge of the bed. Marcel's piercing eyes fixed on her like nails. Perhaps, just as the soldiers had said, one's emotions are particularly fragile when ill.

"Has your fever gone down?" As soon as Ruby sat down, she lifted her fair, slender hand to Marcel's forehead.

"Almost." Marcel allowed her hand to linger on his forehead for a moment before waving it away. His intense gaze softened, and his tone, while not as cold as usual, wasn't warm either—it was neutral.

Her hand having been brushed aside by Marcel, Ruby's face showed a hint of awkwardness. She quickly sought another topic, asking, "Have you taken your medicine?"

"Emma gave me some just after she prescribed it," Marcel replied, his tone still neutral, though his use of "Emma" sounded surprisingly affectionate.

Ruby was taken aback, a sharp pang striking her heart. Still, she forced a smile and maintained her composure, asking with concern, "Are you hungry? Would you like some porridge? I can go downstairs and make some for you."

"No need. Emma has already brought some," Marcel declined coldly. No sooner had he spoken than Emma Wright indeed pushed open the door, carrying a bowl of fresh white porridge.

Ruby was greatly startled.

Marcel had only caught a cold today. In the few hours since she'd learned of it, she had been constantly by his side. How could she not know he had asked Emma to cook porridge for him?

Her heart felt another sharp prick, the pain intensifying.

"Marcel, you must be hungry, right?" To Ruby's surprise, Emma no longer called Marcel 'Company Commander' as usual, but affectionately addressed him as 'Marcel,' just as Ruby did.

She placed the bowl of lightly salted white porridge on the small table and smiled at Ruby. "Ruby, it's cold; the porridge will cool quickly. You're sitting on the bed, so you're closer. Help Marcel sit up and eat. He hasn't had breakfast."

"Okay." Ruby moved to help Marcel, but he refused.

"Emma, I'm a big guy, built like a mountain. She's not strong enough; I'm afraid she can't support me. You do it," he said, then gave Emma a gentle look.

What on earth was going on with these two today?

Ruby Bluen's heart ached with a jealousy so sharp, she felt it could pickle vegetables. She'd had this nagging feeling that these two were up to something, yet she could neither stop them from speaking nor prevent her own heart from being affected. The sourness was so palpable, she imagined she could almost smell it.

"I can do it, Marcel! Don't treat me like a delicate flower." Ruby reached out to support Marcel Horne. He was hers, and she wouldn't let Emma get her hands on him. She had stubbornly stayed here for a month; she couldn't abandon all her efforts now.

Marcel Horne glared at her, his displeasure stark. Ruby's outstretched hand froze mid-air, and she looked at him, her expression full of grievance.

"I said I don't need your help!" Marcel's face darkened. His complexion was naturally swarthy, and as his expression soured, he looked even more intimidating. Coupled with his stern brow and cold glare, he was exceptionally frightening. Even though Ruby was used to his cold demeanor, his current expression startled her. Her face flushed crimson, and tears of hurt welled in her eyes.

She had a gut feeling that Marcel and Emma had conspired about something behind her back. But being glared at and spoken to so harshly by Marcel, she felt flustered, her composure threatening to shatter.

She stood up quietly and stepped aside. Emma immediately moved forward to help Marcel sit up.

"Why aren't there any side dishes?" Marcel looked at the bowl of plain porridge, raised his eyebrows, and asked.

"I've added a bit of salt, so it won't be bland. You have a cold right now; light, plain porridge is better for you," Emma explained calmly, her voice soft and soothing.

Marcel said nothing more, picked up the steaming bowl of plain porridge, and began to eat elegantly.

Catching Ruby's figure out of the corner of his eye, he suddenly pushed the porridge towards Emma, saying, "Emma, I'm still feeling a bit dizzy. How about you feed me?" With that, he gazed at Emma, his eyes full of deep affection.

"Of course. Caring for the sick is my duty," Emma smiled as she took the bowl, her words completely professional and devoid of any sentiment. Unfortunately, a certain young lady, her heart aching with jealousy and pain, failed to grasp the subtext. Tears of anguish already brimming in her eyes, she turned and fled the room, unable to bear watching the two of them act so intimately.

Since Ruby Bluen had fled her arranged marriage and gone into hiding, her confidence had always been robust. But at this moment, she realized she wasn't strong at all. Like any woman, she couldn't bear to see the man she loved being attentive to another. Even if Marcel was doing this to her deliberately, she couldn't stand it.

From the somewhat inexplicable moment she became Glades Horne's girlfriend at twenty-two until now, six years had passed. Throughout that time, he had always been cold and distant towards her, never showing any warmth.

She had believed that if she just persisted, if she just tried harder, she could surely melt his icy, hard heart. But...

Finally, the tears streamed down her face uncontrollably.

Here, in this unfamiliar place, with no family by her side, he was the only one she could rely on. Now that he was treating her this way, she felt utterly alone and adrift, her longing for her family growing even more intense. At this moment, she desperately wanted to see her parents, to throw herself into her mother's warm embrace, pour out all her grievances, and apologize for the trouble she had caused them. She had thrown caution to the wind for love, only to end up like this.