14. Attending the Bath (2)

Chloe couldn’t respond to the duke’s words and simply stared at him blankly.

“I asked if it’s hot. Now that I look, you’re wearing quite a lot of layers. Why are you dressed so heavily? Do you think you can properly attend to my bath like that?”

Just as he said, perhaps because of the warm water filling the tub, the bathroom air felt heavy and humid.

Or maybe it only felt hotter because the duke was watching her.

“Ah… I tend to feel the cold more than others, so I have to wear several layers.”

That was the only excuse she could give.

“Hmm… is that so?”

“Yes.”

“For someone like that, you’ve got sweat on your forehead right now.”

Chloe wiped her forehead with the back of her hand.

Sure enough, beads of sweat had formed.

So he really was a Sword Master.

His eyesight seemed sharp too—spotting even the sweat on her forehead from that distance.

“This isn’t sweat. It’s just water.”

“I can smell sweat from here. It’s giving me a headache, yet you insist it’s water.”

Ugh, that again—his talk about scent.

It was just a little sweat on her forehead, and now he was saying it smelled strong.

Still, lately he’d been obsessed with body scent, so she let it go.

“I’ll wash your hair, so please lean back comfortably in the tub.”

Chloe quickly changed the subject.

Fortunately, the duke didn’t press further. He leaned back in the tub and closed his eyes.

Phew.

Chloe stepped closer to the tub and let out a deep sigh.

She had washed her mother’s hair before while she was lying down, but never a man’s.

Well… hair is just hair, right?

If anything, shorter hair should be easier.

Chloe knelt near his head and got into position.

Oh my…!

It wasn’t easy at all—nor was it anything like she expected.

Because the duke had leaned back so far, his upper body from neck to chest was fully exposed above the foam.

And as the water gently rippled, the bubbles shifted, alternately covering and revealing his broad, firm chest—making the sight strangely dizzying.

She hurriedly averted her gaze from his chest, but then her eyes were drawn to his thick, long neck—so large it seemed impossible to grasp with both hands—and the prominent Adam’s apple.

For some reason, she swallowed hard.

Somewhere normal. Look somewhere normal!

Her gaze jumped upward from his neck to his forehead, fully revealed as his head tilted back.

Compared to his indecently attractive chest and neck, his forehead was strikingly neat.

His eyebrows, straight and clean like they’d been drawn with a brush, tapered slightly toward the ends.

A body so provocative, paired with such orderly features—contradictory, yet perfect.

As the duke slightly frowned with his eyes closed, his long, dense eyelashes fluttered—so thick it seemed like you could place three matchsticks on them.

She had thought “pretty” didn’t suit him, but maybe that wasn’t true.

Even his eyelashes were beautiful.

Before she knew it, her gaze drifted down to his sharp, straight nose.

How does a nose like that even exist in this world? Were his parents sculptors?

“What are you doing?”

Suddenly, the duke opened his eyes and asked.

Lost in her unexpected admiration, Chloe snapped back to her senses and quickly gathered his hair in both hands. The soft, dark brown strands slid down, carrying a fresh, grassy scent.

“Wow!”

The exclamation escaped before she could stop herself. Startled by her own voice, she let go of his hair.

“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t breathe so loudly over my head.”

The duke frowned.

Heat rushed to Chloe’s face.

It seemed she had gotten too immersed in her role—pretending to be a male servant enamored with his master. Being this close, she must have been captivated by his looks.

She thought she’d grown used to his face, but instead she was just admiring it all over again.

So she hadn’t gotten used to it at all—she’d only believed she had.

Focus on the hair! Just the hair!

Steeling herself, Chloe supported his head with one hand and began pouring water over it with the other.

“Your hands are small.”

“Eek.”

A strange sound escaped her.

“With hands like that, it’ll take half a day to wash my hair.”

“Th-that’s not true!”

It’s just hair. It’s even shorter than my mother’s.

As if to prove it, Chloe wrapped both hands firmly around his head.

“What are you doing? My hair isn’t even fully wet yet!”

“Ah! Y-yes!”

She quickly let go and resumed pouring water.

It seemed she needed time to get used to attending a bath.

No—what “getting used to it”? She should be hoping this would be the last time.

There was no way that body weighed 63 kilograms.

And why was he wearing so many layers? Just the clothes alone must weigh quite a bit.

Even from the way he dressed, one could guess—but the legs revealed beneath the rolled-up fabric were unbelievably thin. It was surprising he could even walk on them.

The same went for his arms—pale as his face, and so slender they looked like they might snap if bent.

Could such thin arms really lift and wash his head?

…He had definitely touched those fragile limbs before.

Whoosh.

Just as he tried to recall something, Klein suddenly turned to face him, meeting his gaze with a defiant, almost cheeky look—as if to ask, What are you staring at?

Was that really the look a servant should have?

Ever since he brought the boy back after he tried to quit, there had been many moments where his attitude didn’t resemble that of a servant at all.

Was it because he saw him as a rival?

Insolent brat. Even his physical information was falsified. I’ll uncover both your true nature and your real identity.

That would make finding the woman easier.

But having him attend the bath only confirmed one small lie—it felt like there were bigger lies yet to uncover, but he couldn’t quite grasp what they were.

Worse, the problem only grew with time.

Squelch, squelch.

Is this guy kneading dough with my head?

Klein Riden kept lifting and lowering his head, pouring water and stopping again, agitating his mind.

The bigger issue was how close the boy was.

Massaging his scalp. Occasionally brushing behind his ears and along his nape with those soft hands. The constant warmth of his breath on his face. The small, gentle touch wrapping around his scalp.

Damn it.

Why is his scent so strong?

It was almost overwhelming—yet strangely intoxicating, making him unwilling to push it away. Just like every time since the imprinting.

Lying in the tub was the only thing keeping him from getting dizzy.

No, this won’t do. I need to send him out.

Just as Klein poured water over his head for the fourth time, Hughrey abruptly pulled his head out of Klein’s hands and stood up from the tub.

“You, get out!”

“Ah!”

Klein cried out and fell backward, sitting on the floor. He hunched over, clutching his head with his wet hands as if he had seen something he shouldn’t.

What’s wrong with this guy?

“Your Grace!”

Now he was even shouting without lifting his head.

He’s really gone too far.

“Your Grace, if you suddenly stand up like that… that’s not proper. You startled me…”

What is he even saying? Your behavior is what startled me!

“What, should I announce ‘I’m getting up now’ before I move? Can’t I even control my own body? What’s wrong with this attendant?”

“Th-then… will you continue bathing… standing up…?”

Klein stammered, still refusing to look at him.

Why is he stuttering—and why are his ears so red?

“Hey, lift your head. What kind of manners is it to speak like that while looking at the ground?”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? Lift your head.”

“No!”

“Lift your head and stand up.”

“When you sit down again.”

“Hah!”

Unbelievable.

What kind of shameless servant orders his master around like this?

“Your Grace, if you stand up like that… completely unclothed… I don’t know where to look.”

What?

A grown man saying something like that—ah!

Is he really into men? Does he actually see other men that way?

Disgusting.

“Do whatever you want. Leave or stay. Keep your head buried like that if you want.”

In the end, he decided not to deal with this crazy attendant any further. Besides, his own condition wasn’t great either.

Because of that scent.

He could feel a strange warmth spreading through him.

Not something he wanted to show a servant—especially not this one acting so bizarrely.

Forget the bath—he needed distance immediately.

He stepped out of the tub and put on a bathrobe. Normally, handing it to him would be the attendant’s job, but that clueless brat didn’t seem willing to do anything.

He had always bathed alone anyway, so he didn’t feel like enforcing proper duties.

Besides, for both of them, it seemed safer not to touch each other.

“Get out!”

The moment he tied his robe, he shouted at Klein, who was still sitting there with his head lowered.