AWLITEB Chapter 26

Genos's expression was utterly tranquil.

He looked so unconcerned that Isabella even wondered if she was the strange one for feeling embarrassed about being in just a robe over bare skin.

'No. It's not me who's strange. It's him. That's right.'

Isabella forcibly pulled back her mind, which was trying to be swayed by Genos.

She'd planned to pretend to warm herself by the fireplace, then slip into bed after Genos fell asleep.

She hadn't expected him to openly tell her to get in bed.

"I said lie down."

"...Now?"

"Then are you going to lie down tomorrow?"

Genos spoke curtly, as if telling her to say something sensible.

"Well, no, but..."

Isabella's eyes rolled around.

The thought of lying in bed with Genos while completely sober made her body feel itchy and uncomfortable somehow.

It was like lying down with an exceptionally handsome and attractive 'master.'

Anyway, it was an awkwardly uncomfortable feeling that was hard to describe.

No matter how good-looking he was, she couldn't just say 'thank you very much' and lie down.

This was a different dimension of discomfort, unrelated to Genos's looks.

"Hurry up. We need to sleep if we're leaving early tomorrow."

If she held out any longer, Genos would probably throw her onto the bed himself to stop wasting time.

Isabella had no choice but to get up and walk toward the bed when Genos pointed to the table.

"Oh. Bring that, Bella."

"What?"

"The bundle Paile brought."

Isabella picked up the bundle without thinking and handed it to Genos.

Then, as she carefully sat beside him, Genos set down his book and said:

"Take it off."

What?

Isabella froze in all her movements before she could even ask that question.

Breathing, blinking—everything stopped as she just stared at the Grand Duke.

What had this insane Grand Duke just spewed from his mouth?

Isabella remained frozen, mulling over only that.

"...What?"

When Isabella finally managed to open her mouth and ask, Genos shook his head briefly.

"Is it your hobby to make me repeat myself? If so, I'll have to reconsider this partnership."

"Take it off, you mean, my—this? The robe?"

"What else? That's all you're wearing."

Isabella's expression grew increasingly serious.

The dozens of emotions shadowing her face were read clearly by Genos.

Before she could sink deeper into the swamp of misunderstanding, Genos opened the bundle.

"It's for the ointment."

"...Ointment?"

"Yes. Turn around and lower your robe."

Genos opened a round, flat jar of ointment and coated his fingers generously with it.

"Your Grace will apply it?"

"Make me repeat myself one more time and I'll jump out the window."

Genos spoke seriously, but Isabella couldn't easily follow that command.

At the townhouse, maids had applied medicine to her wounds.

But here, there was no one to apply medicine to her body.

Right now, Genos was volunteering to fill that vacancy himself.

It was right to ask Genos for help to remove the scars quickly.

But...

No matter how much the Grand Duke was someone in the same boat as her, a man was still a man.

For Isabella, who had never shown her body to any man, she couldn't help but hesitate a little.

Genos didn't rush her further. He waited.

He wanted Isabella to think of him not as a man but as a partner.

Removing bodily scars seemed small, but ultimately it was for the great undertaking.

If the maids who witnessed her scars accidentally let something slip, that small mistake could snowball and reveal Isabella's origins.

It was better to prevent even the smallest possibility if it could be prevented.

Isabella knew this too.

That's why she'd told the maids herself that she wanted to bathe alone.

Isabella turned her body to sit with her back to Genos.

Then, after taking a deep breath, she slowly pulled the robe's waist cord.

As the cord loosened and the fabric slackened, Isabella grasped the shoulders of the robe and lowered it.

Her scar-covered back was revealed before Genos's eyes.

Genos pushed the bunched blanket on the bed toward Isabella.

Though silently offered, Isabella understood the meaning and pulled the blanket to her chest to cover herself.

"Tell me if it hurts."

"It won't hurt. They're all scars."

"Even so, the medicine is quite strong, so if you feel pain, don't endure it and tell me."

Genos spoke in a low voice, then brought his fingers to Isabella's back.

"Ah..."

At the sensation of the cold cream, Isabella's lips parted involuntarily.

Genos's fingers gently traced the wounds on Isabella's back.

She could feel the ointment seeping into the shallow grooves beneath her skin.

Genos's fingers moved far more delicately than expected. He found even the smallest scars and applied cream over them.

He didn't forget to tap gently so it would absorb well into the skin.

Isabella clutched the blanket she was holding even tighter.

Every time Genos's touch grazed her skin, a strange feeling arose.

Though the fireplace's warm air circulated through the room and it wasn't cold, goosebumps oddly rose and her lips trembled somehow.

All her senses seemed focused on her back where Genos was touching.

It became difficult to breathe naturally, and her breath kept rising to the tip of her chin.

"Relax. It's not like I'm going to stick a knife in your back."

Genos muttered while continuing to apply medicine to her back.

The sensation of his rough, calloused fingers and the soft cream brushing against her back touched Isabella sensitively.

Only when blue veins began to stand out more prominently on Isabella's hands clutching the blanket did Genos close the ointment jar lid, finishing the treatment.

Only then did Isabella quietly exhale in relief.

"Apply it to the remaining areas yourself. Your hands can reach them."

Genos said, setting the ointment jar down beside Isabella's thigh.

"It's better to put on your robe after the ointment dries, so do that."

"Yes? But..."

"I'll lie facing away. Don't worry about it."

She could feel Genos adjusting his bedding behind her.

The bed shook slightly, then became still.

When Isabella turned around, Genos was lying on his side with his back turned to her.

But somehow his posture looked uncomfortable.

Looking down, she could see his feet sticking out awkwardly beyond the bed because of his tall height.

Looking at his two feet floating in midair, Isabella desperately bit her lip to hold back laughter.

"You can laugh. I'm a little ridiculous too."

Genos muttered in a languid voice.

"I'll try my best to hold it in."

Isabella swallowed her laughter with difficulty, calming herself.

After that, she moved aside some of the blanket she'd been clutching and applied ointment to her body.

From around her chest to her upper arms, thighs, and shins.

Areas covered by clothing. Only those places were riddled with scars.

As she dabbed and applied the ointment, a renewed pain washed over her, but Isabella pressed that ache down below her throat.

"I told him to buy as much as available, so there's more than enough ointment. So apply it generously. Don't skimp."

"Yes, I will."

Isabella applied ointment generously without missing a single scar, then closed the jar.

Afterward, as the ointment dried somewhat in the room's warmth, she loosely wrapped herself in the robe and lay at the edge of the bed, pulling the covers over herself.

Only the crackle of the fireplace echoed quietly through the room.

"Sleep well."

"You too, Your Grace."

Now that she was actually lying in bed, she didn't feel particularly uncomfortable.

Perhaps because they were turned away from each other.

Isabella felt her body relax languidly, then turned to look behind her out of curiosity.

"Ah!"

The moment she turned her head, Isabella's eyes met Genos's and she shrieked in shock.

Genos furrowed his brow as if she were being noisy.

"Why are you screaming?"

"...Why are you lying there looking at me?"

"Why. Were you planning to curse at me behind my back?"

"That's not it—I thought you'd be sleeping with your back turned."

"I'm uncomfortable with someone at my back. It feels like I'm about to be attacked."

That's a rather unusual reason.

Isabella was thinking this when Genos closed his eyes to sleep.

Isabella thought she should sleep now too and followed suit, closing her eyes.

But far from feeling sleepy, various stray thoughts and curiosities suddenly floated through her mind.

Eventually, Isabella opened her eyes and looked at Genos.

Well, between comrades who'd bared their bodies and even applied medicine, what couldn't she ask?

"Your Grace. May I ask you something?"

"Mm."

Genos answered in a thoroughly drowsy voice without opening his eyes.

"By any chance, should we have a child?"

Genos's eyes flew open.

Sleep had vanished from his face in an instant.

"What did you just say?"

"If it's necessary for the operation, might we need to have a child?"

He'd said he wanted her to treat him not as a man but as a partner, but he hadn't expected her to say something like this.

Genos let out a hollow laugh.

"The person—no, the witch—who was hesitating about sharing a bed, is that you?"

"Since we're posing as a married couple anyway, I thought we should address it. We've never discussed it even once."

"We haven't because there's no need to."

"What?"

"We're not having a child."

Genos's voice held complete certainty.

His expression and eyes said he was speaking a truth that would never change no matter what anyone said.

"Even if our relationship comes under suspicion?"

"Revenge on the family and ascending to the throne. Even if we're dreaming of such grand things, there are lines that shouldn't be crossed."

"Lines that shouldn't be crossed...?"

"A child should be conceived, raised, and protected by someone with responsibility and love."

At Genos's words, Isabella's eyes widened slightly.

His lips had spoken words she never expected—endlessly normal, proper, and beautiful words.

"A baby made with impure intentions will be unhappy. Adding one more unhappy person to this world is a disaster."

"Unhappy... disaster."

Isabella rolled those words on her tongue, pronouncing them.

They were words that caused pain just by touching them with the tip of her tongue.

"That's right... If we had one for our own greed, a child who became a means to an end would surely become an unhappy person, right? Even if they were the Emperor's child?"

"Of course."

Genos answered lightly.

"Because I'm living proof."

A gentle smile bloomed across Genos's face.

It was such a pretty smile, so incompatible with the words he'd just spoken, that Isabella was momentarily speechless.

She felt regret wash over her, thinking she'd unintentionally scraped at his painful place.

Isabella opened her mouth to say something, but Genos was faster.

"Go to sleep. Talk any more and the person jumping out the window won't be me, it'll be you."

Genos's large hand covered both of Isabella's eyes.

With her apologetic feelings, Isabella had no choice but to squeeze her eyes shut and try to sleep. Instead, she whispered in a very small voice.

"I'm sorry."

"Window."

At Genos's short answer, Isabella pressed her lips together.

Knock knock knock.

Amidst the morning sunlight streaming in, a knocking sound came through.

At that sound, Isabella woke from sleep and stretched defensively with a long yawn.

"Awake?"

Gasp!

Isabella turned her head sharply in surprise.

Genos was sitting in the rocking chair reading a book, dressed in yesterday's shirt and pants.

"A teacher brought the laundered clothes to the door a little while ago. Yours are there too, on the nightstand."

"..."

Should've yawned more moderately.

Isabella made a useless regret as she reached out only her hand to grab the clothes, when the knocking sound suddenly came to mind.

"Didn't someone just knock on the door?"

"Yes. I was about to open it. Once a certain someone here finishes getting dressed."

"...I'll put them on right away."

Genos stood and turned the chair lightly to sit with his back to Isabella.

Isabella quickly dressed in the meantime.

Most of the buttons were on the back, so she had no choice but to skip a few here and there, but when she draped the cloak over top, it didn't show much.

Isabella swept her fingers through her hair to tidy it.

Then, knock knock knock—the knocking came again from outside the door. And words followed.

"I've come to inform you that breakfast is ready."

It was a youthful voice.

That of a boy aged perhaps sixteen or seventeen at most.

"All right, I understand."

Isabella spoke through the door.

"Your Grace has already washed up, right? Then will you go ahead? I'll wash up quickly and follow."

"No need. We'll go out together."

"I haven't even washed my face."

"It's fine. I'll wait."

"Then I'll wash up quickly. Just wait a moment."

Isabella hurriedly opened the door when—

Suddenly, a white mass came flying at her face.

What is this?

The moment that thought occurred, the thing in question smashed across her face.

And immediately, the white mass that had dripped down from her face fell plop onto her freshly laundered dress.

It was sticky cream cake.