Shane suddenly looked out the window. "Viscount, that beggar is looking at you."
Claire followed the direction of Shane's finger and looked over. Sure enough, the beggar who had been lying on the ground, barely clinging to life, had raised his head and was looking at her, his eyes filled with a desire to live.
Claire narrowed her eyes but made no move, continuing to watch him.
Perhaps the beggar had understood something. A hint of hope appeared in his eyes as he looked at Claire. He moved one arm forward, scraping himself across the ground in Claire's direction.
"Save... save me!" he weakly cried for help.
Claire still made no move, staring at him as though she were assessing something.
The beggar braced both hands against the ground and shakily forced his body upright. Only then did Claire notice that the tendons in his hands and feet had been severed with a blade. The wounds on his wrists had not even healed, and injuries could be faintly seen beneath his tattered clothes.
Shane's eyes flickered as he looked at Claire, but she still showed little reaction.
Slowly, the beggar used his limp arms to prop himself up. His lower body remained kneeling on the ground, but after managing that movement, a trace of hope finally appeared on his face, and he continued inching toward Claire.
He mumbled indistinctly, "Save... me... I don't want to die yet."
Claire raised an eyebrow. She had just seen the yearning for life in his eyes, like the desperate craving for oxygen in someone drowning. It was startling, but it also touched her heart.
"Perhaps he's someone who can make something of himself..." Claire murmured.
After the beggar got to his feet, he moved much faster, slowly making his way from the other side