Claire Sinclair wasn’t being falsely modest. She was just sick and tired of people endlessly comparing her to her sister, especially her sister’s old friends.
If her sister were still alive, how heartbroken she would be.
’Whatever. What’s the point of overthinking it?’
Claire Sinclair shook her head and tried to let go of the doorfra to walk into the cafeteria. But the mont she released her grip, her legs gave out again, and she collapsed onto the floor.
Seeing this, Helen Wallace finally strode over and helped her up. "What’s wrong with your legs?"
"It’s nothing. I can walk on my own."
Helen Wallace loosened her grip slightly, but Claire Sinclair imdiately started to fall again, so she quickly steadied her.
"You’re just as stubborn as your sister. I’ll help you."
With that, ignoring Claire Sinclair’s protests, she forcibly dragged her into the cafeteria and pushed her down into a chair.
Though she was very unhappy, Claire Sinclair still politely murmured a "thank you."
Helen Wallace sat down across from her. "What do you want to eat? I’ll get it for you."
"No, thank you. I’ll just sit for a bit and get it myself."
"Aren’t your legs giving you trouble? Don’t try to act tough. The one thing I hated most at the training camp was people who put on a brave front, unless they could actually back it up."
Claire Sinclair raised an eyebrow. The woman’s tone wasn’t pleasant, but her words were laced with a kind of unsolicited advice that made them hard to refute.
Helen Wallace wasted no more words, turning to get a plate of food for her.
Claire Sinclair stared blankly at the mountain of at and vegetables piled on her plate, then looked up at Helen Wallace.
"Look at you, skinny as a rail. Eat more at. Your sister used to love at."
"Thanks..." Claire Sinclair said reluctantly.
’How am I ever going to finish all this at?’
Helen Wallace smiled and patted her shoulder. "I guess this ans we’re acquainted. Starting today, I’m taking over your sister’s old job as Young Master Quincy’s 24/7 personal bodyguard. As for you, you’d better be good. If you dare try to harm Young Master Quincy in front of , I won’t go easy on you."
That last sentence was an undeniable warning.
Claire Sinclair swallowed hard, a flicker of fear in her heart.
’Are all female soldiers this intimidating?’
Helen Wallace left, leaving Claire Sinclair with a mountain of at.
Claire Sinclair ate until she felt like she was going to be sick, but she finished all the at. Thankfully, the strength had returned to her legs.
Leaving the cafeteria, Claire Sinclair walked slowly down the hallway, planning to find a certain soone to go visit Yara Quincy with.
When she reached the office door, she saw Adrian Quincy pinning Helen Wallace to the floor in a grappling hold.
Helen Wallace grimaced in pain. "Alright, alright, I lose! Let go! You’re killing ."
Adrian Quincy nonchalantly released his grip. In a low voice, he said, "You’ve gotten rusty."
"Well, I’ve just been sitting around getting fat, you know? That’s why I applied to co back as your bodyguard. Anyway, did you really marry Claire Sinclair?"
"Yes." Adrian Quincy nodded, straightening his suit as he returned to his desk and sat down.
"No way. The whole thing just feels so... off. When I see Claire Sinclair, all I can think of is Quinn. And Quinn was such a tigress—can you really picture her acting all ek and demure?"
As she spoke, Helen Wallace sat down on the other side of the desk.
Adrian Quincy was unfazed. "Claire has qualities that Quinn didn’t. In ti, you’ll see her good points."
"Good points? I just saw her in the cafeteria, and she was practically crawling. There’s sothing wrong with her legs, isn’t there?"
"What did you say?"
"I said, there’s sothing wrong with her legs—"
"Claire." Adrian Quincy spoke suddenly. He stood and walked toward the door to greet her.
Claire Sinclair instinctively took a step back. She wanted to flee, but her legs refused to obey.
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