Chapter 13
“Ayla Bell. So it is you.”
Murmuring as if to confirm, he finally released my hand completely. Rubbing my wrist, still marked red, I looked up at his eyes, which had yet to cool completely.
“Who else but me would be here to serve you, Young Master? I need to get your things off before the blood dries, so please cooperate.”
As I chattered away as if nothing was wrong, Claude stared at me like I was a stranger. It wasn’t as if this was unusual, but today he really seemed to be in a bad state.
“Is it really just you again today?”
At his pointless remark, I didn’t bother to reply. The fact that I was the only maid serving him, that the head butler and other servants never showed their faces anymore. It had all become the norm at some point.
Into this familiar landscape of just the two of us, Claude’s question suddenly slipped in.
“Ayla, aren’t you afraid of me?”
I was busy tearing off his shirt, so soaked in blood that it had lost its original color, and didn’t quite understand the question.
“At this point?”
If he was going to ask, shouldn’t he have asked years ago? After all the torment and all the trouble, who was it that made me tough enough not to be scared, and now he wanted to know if I was afraid?
As a child, I would have answered right away that I was. But now, for some reason, I couldn’t quite bring myself to say so.
Was I afraid of him? I wasn’t sure. If fear was a feeling triggered when my safety was truly threatened, then honestly, I wasn’t afraid of Claude.
Maybe it was just unfounded confidence, but I had this strange certainty that he would never hurt me.
More than anything, I’d realized long ago that there were things in this world far scarier than a pretty-faced, ill-tempered young master.
“Not really… I’m not afraid.”
I met his dark, sunken red eyes directly as I said it. He could call it bravado if he wanted.
“You’ve gotten pretty fearless, Ayla Bell.”
He tried to sound reproachful, but for a moment I saw his lips relax. And yet, his crimson eyes, shining steadily, searched my face with an intensity as if looking for any sign of a lie.
Was he really that desperate to hear I wasn’t afraid of him? I’d never taken him for the type to care about such things. I thought nothing of it as I finished removing his ruined shirt.
“What scares me isn’t you, Young Master, but the mountain of laundry you make. Haah, I might just have to throw this out entirely.”
Feeling oddly ticklish under his continued stare, I exaggeratedly pushed at his back. Fortunately, he didn’t criticize my clumsy handling, and quietly went into the bath.
I left the wrecked carpet, clothes, and armor to the head butler and servants waiting silently outside, then went back to Claude.
Passing by where he stood dazed like a statue, I quickly filled the tub with warm water. Watching him stand utterly motionless until the tub was full, I sighed and reached for his waistband.
Only then did Claude flinch and grab my wrist again. My poor wrist was getting quite a workout today.
“You were standing so still, I thought you’d fainted with your eyes open. You can manage your trousers on your own, right?”
“…Even if you’ve lost your sense of fear, isn’t this a bit much?”
“You can’t get in the tub with them on, can you?”
“Hah… I’ll take care of it myself. Just leave.”
I shrugged at the young master’s sharp mood, though it wasn’t as if this was the first time I’d helped him bathe. Admittedly, it was the first time I’d tried to undress him all the way down to his pants.
“I’ll be right outside, so let me know if you need anything. Okay?”
“Yes, so just hurry up and get out.”
Leaving Claude behind, his face looking red perhaps from the steam and heat, I stepped out of the bathroom. Just seeing him like that made my own neck feel hot, so I busied myself even more.
At a glance, it didn’t seem like he’d suffered any serious injuries. There was no need to call the physician, but for minor wounds, I should look after them myself.
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