Gwivelle was initially startled, her small face displaying panic, making her feel disoriented.
He noticed this and had no choice but to suppress his irritation, waving her over, and gently stroked her damp hair with his fingers.
Roman's soft voice, with its peculiar magnetism, said, "Don't be afraid, if there's anything you're unhappy with, tell me in time. You are my chamberlain, the person closest to me, and I don't want you to carry those grievances in your heart."
He very much valued Gwivelle's potential, speaking to her in tender and considerate tones, filled with concern and care.
The fear that had come out of nowhere quickly faded away for Gwivelle.
She shook her head gently, what grievances could she possibly have? Her status in the manor was so high, second only to Roman, and those of the same level as her took great care of her, so much so that at her young age, she was without any troubles.
If she had to say something... no, it was already very good.
