Chapter 22

Chapter 22
“Do it later,” Carlos said in a low voice, taking the stack of documents from her.

Gryta stared down at Elio, who was lying with her head resting on Carlos’s thigh, and lowered her own voice.

“Are you planning to stay like this until she wakes up?”

Gryta’s gaze suddenly locked onto Elio. The full curve of the girl’s chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm.

“…Senior. Did you mess with the lady’s undergarments?”

Gryta let slip the word Senior, just as she used to back in their academy days. It was what she always called him whenever they were alone.

“……She looked like she couldn’t breathe properly,” Carlos replied after a few seconds of silence.

“You said you were the one who told her to wear it. Isn’t it pressing too hard against her chest?” Carlos gently stroked the girl’s back over the blanket. Frowning, his finger brushed against the broad section held together by five large hooks.

“The kid couldn’t breathe.”

“That is for her safety. Even if she gets stabbed with a blade, it will prevent a fatal wound. We never know when an assassin might strike, so we must be cautious.”

Gryta curled the corners of her neat lips upward.

“I will pay closer attention to the lady’s safety, so put your worries to rest, Senior—and mind your boundaries.”

“…….”

“No matter how much like a child she seems, this is crossing the line for a lady. If anyone saw this, they would think she was your daughter.”

Carlos silently patted Elio’s back.

Shaking her head with a smile at his unbothered attitude, Gryta handed him another set of documents.

“I have compiled a list of suitable marriage prospects for the Young Lady of Aquitaine from across the entire Kingdom of Cyprus. These are families without any succession disputes, so her safety will not be a concern.”

“Very well.”

Carlos gently smoothed out the crease between Elio’s brows. What on earth is she dreaming about to be smacking her lips and scowling like that?

Are the nightmares gone now? Why on earth did she loathe the bed so much that she spent the whole night groaning? I wish I could crack her head open and peek inside.

“Ah. Father says he will be visiting Schpenhart.”

“…Marquis Hofmann?”

Gryta stared fixedly at the place where Carlos’s gaze and hand were directed.

“Yes. Father said our—”

“Get out.”

Carlos smoothed back the sweat-drenched hair from Elio’s forehead as he spoke.

“We’ll talk later.”

Gryta looked at Carlos for a few seconds with a smile before nodding slowly.

“…Understood. I shall wait in my room.”

It was early dawn, and a soft, pattering rain drizzled down. Drops of sweat dripped from Elio’s flushed face.

“Hey, Ross. You know… that man…”

The massive black stallion snorted and tossed its head as if it didn’t want to listen.

“Hey. Carlos.”

Squatting in front of the stable attached to the annex, Elio knitted her brows and stroked the stallion’s head.

“I’m being serious right now, okay? Why is that man sleeping while holding me in his arms? You’re his horse, so you must know him well.”

Elio placed her hand over her heart, which was still thumping wildly. Having snuck away from that giant of a man, her racing heart refused to settle down.

“Did he get drunk and enter the wrong room…? Does your master have a weak tolerance for alcohol?”

The horse stomped its hoof fiercely and shook its head.

Its foul temper is just like its master’s…

…He really is… ridiculously handsome…

Elio stared blankly at the black horse, recalling the delicate features of the man she had seen right in front of her face.

Isn’t he the type of lightweight man who easily enters a woman’s room and sleeps while holding her…?

Elio lowered her head toward the mud-soaked ground. Muttering the word “playboy,” she suddenly felt a wave of gloom wash over her as memories of last night rushed back.

Was he being sincere when he said he had no interest in the imperial throne?

If he really just used her because he genuinely hated the idea of becoming emperor, she felt it would ease her guilt a little. She prayed that her father’s sabotage—using her as a mere pawn—had been entirely meaningless…

“…Hey, Ross. Should we practice purification?”

Even though the man hadn’t pressed her to show him purification, Elio felt a prickling sense of guilt. She was already treading on eggshells here, and she was the most useless person in the entire place.

“The lady is now the daughter of Baronet Aquitaine. Practically speaking, that means a commoner. The legal treatment will differ in many ways, so make sure to read the scriptures carefully.”

Recalling the words Gryta had spoken to her last night, her heart rate accelerated with anxiety once more.

She had tried her best to reply calmly, thanking Gryta for the advice on preparing herself in advance—yet inside, her spirit had burned to ashes so deeply that she had ended up gulping down wine.

Only now did she understand why that man had so nonchalantly said he could revoke the vow of the first night made on the blue pearl.

Because she wasn’t a noble lady of pure blood, he could nullify the betrothal vow whenever he pleased.

…If that’s the case, wouldn’t it be better to just be a complete commoner…? It’s not like being a baronet’s family changes anything anyway; the taxes and tax rates are exactly the same as a commoner’s.

Elio bit her lip and rolled up her sleeves.

“…Ross. I’m going to try the lowest-grade purification magic. I’ll do it slowly, so…”

Suddenly, a pitch-black shadow fell over her. Startled out of her wits, Elio snapped her head up.

“Hey, you bastard! You were supposed to grab the hay and leave all the water buckets to me—whoa, shit!”

The water bucket sloshed, and droplets splashed down over Elio’s dress.

“L-Lady? What are you doing?”

It was still dark, but the squire knights who had come out to prepare for early morning training opened their mouths in shock the moment they spotted the tiny lady huddled in the shadows.

Carlos rested one hand on his hip while aggressively wiping his face with the other.

Having rushed down in a hurry without even changing into his training attire, his chest muscles heaved heavily beneath his loose, thin tunic.

“Sir Carlos!”

Elio burst into a lighthearted laugh atop the giant black stallion, wearing a raincoat that was far too big for her frame.

“What do you think you’re doing right now?”

Carlos narrowed his eyes as he looked at the woman sitting happily atop his black stallion in the middle of the training grounds. What was she doing up at dawn after escaping from his arms? She should have stayed in bed and slept more.

The answer came from an unexpected quarter.

“We’re teaching her how to ride a horse!”

“The lady said she wanted to try riding and was playing all by herself in the stables, sir!”

“She can make wyvern sounds and swing a dagger! Of course she needs to know how to ride a horse, too!”

The squires, clad in raincoats, surrounded Elio on horseback like a retinue of dutiful attendants.

Carlos massaged his throbbing temples and slowly closed his eyes.

Have these idiots completely lost their minds as a collective group?

“Sir! Look! Look at this!”

With a flushed face, Elio gently pulled on the reins, and the black horse took a slow, deliberate step forward.

That treacherous beast had never walked that slowly in its life, not even on the day it was born.

“Oh! Our lady certainly has a knack for riding!”

“She might be small, but with a little effort, she could become a fine Northern warrior!”

It wasn’t so much that the woman was riding the horse; rather, the horse was accommodating her and playing along. Nonsensical praise poured out from every direction.

Carlos looked between the utter dunderheads and the beaming girl before pinching the bridge of his nose, letting out a low, breathless laugh mixed with a sigh.

“A Northern warrior…? Do you think I could properly fight you, Sir Carlos…?”

Carlos twitched an eyebrow.

“What would you fight me for?”

“J-Just…”

Elio stammered, staring at the man wrapping his hand over hers.

Without a word, Carlos pried her small, tightly gripped hands off the reins, threaded the leather strap between her ring finger, wrapped it upward, and tucked it beneath her thumb.

“We should be getting along fine, so why fight me?”

Elio tightly curled her reddened fingertips. Standing there holding her hand, the man remained unfathomably composed.

He looked insufferably handsome today as well, as if he had slept exceptionally well. If she were to touch his smooth, golden skin, gently tanned by the sun, it felt as though her fingers would slip right off.

Just how well did he sleep to look that polished?

No matter how drunk he was, does it make any sense to calmly wrap his arms around a woman and sleep like that…?

She could vividly imagine how many women he must have toyed with back in his academy dormitories.

“Are you coming down?”

Elio nodded.

“……Normally, my leg strength is actually really good. But I was exhausted from the pilgrimage, and I drank alcohol again yesterday…”

Carlos didn’t even pretend to listen as he rolled up his sleeves.

“Try coming down on your own.”

Elio’s eyes widened.

“I haven’t learned that part yet!”

“Take your feet out of the stirrups. Turn your right leg toward me and lie flat over the horse.”

As Elio swallowed her dry spit, at a complete loss for what to do, the squires who had betrayed her sat down a short distance away, vigorously wiping their swords while shouting, “A warrior of the North can do it!”

Can’t you just pick me up and bring me down? Isn’t helping a lady dismount a basic skill for a playboy?

She couldn’t bring herself to utter such brazen words aloud. With her mind going blank, she recalled how her older sister used to ride and swung her right leg over to the left side of the saddle.

Bringing both legs together, she lay face down over the horse in the shape of a sickle. Her body grew stiff with fear, feeling as though she would slide right off the rolling back of the black horse.

Gauging the height she was suspended at, she was about to let go of her grip when the horse—which had been gentle until now—suddenly kicked its hind legs vigorously, as if trying to launch her into the air.

“S-Sir!”

Carlos caught her from behind, wrapping his arm around her waist.

“Let go of your hands.”

Elio clung to the saddle for dear life.

“Hands.”

Elio opened and closed her mouth like a goldfish. His tone sounded as if he were giving the command “Paw!” to a dog, and the unmistakable, rock-hard sensation of his abdomen pressed flush against her backside sent a surge of scorching heat through her entire body.

“Let go. You just need to touch your feet to the ground.”

When Elio continued to hold onto the saddle like a lifeline, Carlos let out a laugh that sounded like a sigh. Pulling her into his chest, he peeled her off as if detaching a tiny leech.

His breath brushed against the back of her neck, and a moment later, her feet landed safely on the ground.

The young knights burst into delighted laughter at the mere sight of him helping the lady dismount. They were innocently rowdy, like schoolboys witnessing their teacher’s secret romance.

Whispers followed, wondering if he might take her as a concubine even if he didn’t marry her.

Hearing this, Gryta, who was sitting on a bench nearby, nodded with a gentle smile.

“As long as he doesn’t get her pregnant, it doesn’t matter how many commoner concubines he keeps.”

“Ah, come on, Sir Gryta. Is that really something one can control at will?”

A knight lying beneath a tree laughed teasingly. He clicked his tongue, muttering that the innocent young lady didn’t know the nature of a man’s desire.

Gryta let out a soft, light laugh.

“Have contraceptive pills not been invented?”

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