IATAOTHKG | CHAPTER 102

[CHAPTER 102]

“An SS-rank healing mage who is the only one able to make contact with the secret Prince.

There’s no one across the Empire who doesn’t know of you, Lady.”

Hearing Ben’s reply, Meyna finally felt the unfamiliar weight of her newfound fame.

Just as they did with Caliph, all media outlets and reporters were pouring intense attention onto both her and Biterion.

Without realizing it, she turned her head and checked Caliph’s face.

At some point, he was already looking around the inside of the shop.

“Seeing that you still use a loom, it seems you weave fabric yourself even these days.”

When Caliph spoke while picking up a helmet, Ben glanced up at him.

“Then who else would I have do it?”

His tone was gruff yet oddly familiar.

Caliph set the helmet down.

“True enough.

If you ever took on an assistant, you’d probably work someone to death.”

“Hah?

Who are you talking about?”

“I don’t train subordinates as viciously as you do.”

“You wouldn’t teach them at all.

You’d just bully them endlessly.”

Meyna quietly swallowed her laughter.

“Oh dear.”

Groaning theatrically while holding his back, Ben finally stood up.

He was shorter than expected.

Skillfully navigating the floor cluttered with goods, he stopped in front of Meyna.

“With such a slender build, I wonder if you can even wear armor properly.”

Armor?

Humming an indistinct tune, Ben moved to the large display shelf along the wall.

“Hmm.”

After scanning the items, he reached out and grabbed something.

Turning around, he suddenly tossed it toward Meyna without warning.

“W-wait…!”

Startled, Meyna instinctively reached out her hands.

Clank!

“Not bad.”

Raising his eyebrows as he spoke, Ben smiled at Meyna with satisfaction.

Then he selected several large rolls of fabric.

Carrying the rolls in both arms, he returned behind the workbench.

This time, instead of the loom, the sound of a sewing machine filled the space.

Putting on a thick pair of magnifying glasses, Ben tossed a measuring tape toward Caliph.

Unlike Meyna, Caliph seemed very accustomed to this situation and caught it effortlessly.

“Come here.”

Caliph said to Meyna.

As she approached slowly, he added,

“We came to have training clothes and armor made, so we need to take your measurements.”

The joke about going shopping had been partly true.

Meyna nodded, then glanced down at her dress.

“If Master Motenson were in good health, he would’ve prepared your training clothes first.

But as you know, he’s still bedridden.”

At Caliph’s words, Meyna’s face darkened instantly.

It reminded her of what she had heard from Sera.

She had chosen not to believe the claim that Biterion had tried to kill her, but she still hadn’t confirmed the truth directly with him.

“What’s wrong?”

Caliph quickly noticed the change in Meyna’s expression and asked.

“It’s nothing.

But what about His Highness?”

At the sudden mention of Biterion, Caliph’s expression creased faintly.

“What about him?”

“His training clothes.

He probably doesn’t have armor either, like me.”

Meyna replied with concern.

Caliph almost snapped that the man would obviously take care of buying his own training clothes and armor, but instead pressed his lips shut.

“Wouldn’t it be better to buy His Highness’s clothes as well while we’re at it?”

She had come here wearing a trailing dress after firing a gun, yet she looked ready to grab Biterion’s hand and drag him along at any moment.

“Five and a half.”

After rewinding the measuring tape, Caliph started to kneel on one knee, then paused.

It seemed difficult for him to steady himself due to his injured leg.

“Do you need help?”

Not knowing exactly what he needed, Meyna asked.

“It’s fine.”

Shaking his head, Caliph thought for a moment, then dragged a wooden chair over from the wall.

He placed it directly in front of Meyna and sat down, supporting himself by gripping the backrest.

Letting out a short breath, he brushed back his tousled hair.

He closed his eyes briefly, as if feeling the pain in his leg, then opened them and looked up at Meyna.

The distance was far too close, and the angle unfamiliar.

For a moment, Meyna forgot how to breathe naturally.

“Calves and thighs.

Last ones.”

Meyna nodded blankly.

When Caliph, who had been waiting without moving, spoke again,

“Your clothes.”

He gestured toward Meyna’s dress with his eyes.

“…Yes.”

Answering softly, Meyna lifted the hem of her skirt slightly.

Without a word, Caliph leaned forward.

His hand suddenly reached under the raised hem and loosely wrapped around Meyna’s right ankle.

Meyna flinched reflexively.

It was strange.

A place she had never expected someone else’s hand to touch, let alone his.

It was an oddly uncomfortable sensation, beyond simple ticklishness.

Whether he didn’t notice her trembling or chose to ignore it, Caliph didn’t lift his gaze.

Still bent forward, he slowly lifted Meyna’s right leg and spread his own legs slightly while seated.

He placed her right foot in the space between his thighs.

His hand slid up along her shin and measured the circumference of her calf first.

Marking the measurement with his fingers, he spoke to Ben.

“Two.”

Meyna felt a faint dizziness, wishing desperately for this strange moment to end quickly.

Nothing felt comfortable.

Not the exposed bare skin of her thigh, revealed by lifting her skirt, nor the unfamiliar posture she had never experienced before.

The sensation of Caliph’s hand brushing her ankle and shin was worst of all.

Even Caliph’s face, seen from above, felt unfamiliar, as if he were someone else.

It almost looked like he was kneeling at her feet with his head bowed.

His hand slid upward again, nearing her thigh.

The hand that had never hesitated paused briefly, then wrapped the measuring tape around her thigh.

“Two and a half.”

After stating it concisely, Caliph released her leg.

As Meyna quickly adjusted her clothes, Caliph lightly ran his tongue over his lips.

Dragging the chair back into place, he handed the measuring tape back to Ben and said,

“Make the men’s training clothes and armor I mentioned earlier to my measurements.”

Ben nodded.

“Then we’ll come to pick them up soon.”

* * *

On the way back to the hotel after finishing their schedule.

The few remaining leaves swayed in the summer breeze, and the gray scenery retreated quickly behind them.

Each time the car stopped at a signal and sped up again, the smell of fuel drifted through the air.

In the silence, Meyna occasionally glanced at Caliph’s profile as he focused on driving.

After much deliberation, she finally parted her lips.

“Sir Lennox.

May I ask you something?”

Caliph nodded.

“About the day of the Holy Rite.”

His face, which had been facing forward the entire time, showed a flash of tension.

From that day until now, it had been a question she carried in her heart.