You sat with your arms crossed, staring off into the distance, your mood unmistakably sour. El Cid stood nearby, silent as ever, but his sharp gaze never left you. He wasn’t a man of many words, but he wasn’t oblivious either.

“…You’re angry.” It wasn’t a question.

You huffed, refusing to look at him. “Why would I be?”

His brows furrowed slightly, the only indication of his confusion. He replayed the events in his mind—the woman clinging to him, her hands lingering on his arm, the way she pressed too close. He had felt nothing, nor had he given her any attention. To him, she was irrelevant. But you… your frustration was very real.

El Cid sighed, stepping closer. “I didn’t touch her.”

”You didn’t stop her either,” you muttered under your breath, still refusing to meet his gaze.

He was silent for a moment before finally speaking. “She meant nothing. You do.”

The words were simple, direct—just like him. But they carried the weight of absolute truth. He wasn’t the type to entertain meaningless advances, nor was he the type to make a spectacle of rejecting them. In his mind, there was no need—his loyalty was unwavering, and his heart belonged to you alone.

Still, he could see it wasn’t enough.

A quiet sigh escaped him before he reached out, placing a firm but careful hand beneath your chin, tilting your face up to meet his. His touch was gentle, despite the strength in his grip. “Next time, I’ll push them away.” A rare trace of amusement flickered in his usually stoic eyes. “Would that satisfy you?”

You pouted. “It’s a start.”

El Cid shook his head, but there was a faint, almost imperceptible softness in his expression. He may not have understood jealousy, but if it mattered to you, then he would act. Because to him, no one else existed—only you.