"Young Master...um...please put the little girl down." Amelia Foster cautiously suggested from the side, fearing that if the young master was displeased, he might just let her daughter fall to the ground.
Even though the height wasn't very high, and there was grass below, the thought that her daughter's head injury had already made her simple-minded made Amelia genuinely afraid that another fall could worsen the situation.
However, Jeremiah May completely ignored Amelia's words, his dark eyes fixed on the small child in his arms. "Does it not hurt anymore?" Compared to earlier, there wasn't a trace of pain on her face now.
This time, the little girl seemed to understand and responded immediately, "Hold brother...pain...gone...feels better..."
"..." A dark shadow flitted across Jeremiah's exquisitely handsome yet still youthful-looking face. What did she mean? Holding him made her feel better?
Or was all the previous display of pain just an act?
