TLNTAAM Chapter 15

Muscles Are Precious

I wriggled in protest. He adjusted his balance with practiced ease.

"Dangerous, kid. Hold still."

"I'm being serious. Stop teasing me."

"I hear you, but there are different kinds of maids. Either way—it's worth knowing it's not a bad job for a woman."

That stopped me.

It was a surprisingly sharp thing to say. And he'd said it genuinely, thinking of Nina.

'He's being pretty decent to someone he just met.'

Come to think of it, carrying me like a sack of rice aside, he was taking me all the way back to the dormitory. That was its own kind of consideration.

'Is he a good person?'

Annoying, but still.

'Either way—I really don't know this world at all.'

Nina's memories stopped at the orphanage, and the castle was enormous. Why people here kept their hair long, why adults stroked children's heads to calm them—it was endless, the things I didn't understand.

'I need to study.'

I hadn't known there were different kinds of maids, either. As far as my knowledge went, maids just did menial work. But Iberia seemed to operate on different rules.

'To begin with, a lot of people here can read.'

In the medieval period as I understood it, even royalty were sometimes illiterate. Here, basic literacy seemed to be taken for granted.

'Is this even medieval?'

The whole structure of this world felt different from anything I knew.

I couldn't run without knowing which direction to run. I needed to understand this place better. I felt the pressing need for knowledge I'd never expected to require, and let out a long sigh.

I'm not sure how long we'd been walking. I was lost in thought, and when I surfaced, the carpet had changed. No longer green.

Red.

"We should stop, shouldn't we?"

"Why?"

"The red carpet is for high-ranking people."

"This way's faster. And don't worry, kid. I'm senior enough to use this corridor."

Yes, you are, but I'm not! Charlotte told me I'd get in trouble for coming this way!

"Still the same, is it?"

"...Pardon?"

"Do they still restrict the red carpet these days? That was the old king's rule—everyone uses it now."

I caught my breath. Charlotte. You lied to me.

'You deliberately didn't show me the shortcut!'

Petty. Genuinely petty. You don't do that to someone young and small.

'Just you wait. I will absolutely make your life inconvenient.'

Even if Mary is your aunt, I will personally dedicate myself to being your recurring problem. I will make your life difficult.

Léomede's words turned out to be true—I kept spotting the navy hems of maid dresses going past. Everyone really was walking this corridor freely. I was plotting exactly how to inconvenience Charlotte when the blood rushing to my head got to be too much, and I let out a low groan.

That's when I saw unfamiliar fabric. Luxurious cloth that suited the red carpet perfectly. Léomede's footsteps stopped, and I strained to lift my head.

No.

I understood before I could see the face. Even upside down, I recognized that hair—black and gleaming, swaying with unusual vividness.

Your Majesty. Why are you here. Why do I keep running into you at the worst possible moments!

"Your Majesty. Half a year since I last had the honor."

"Léomede. How was the border?"

"As always. I'll give you the full report later."

I put everything I had into lifting my head the rest of the way. This was the first time I'd truly understood how precious muscles were. But even straining my core to the limit, I couldn't hold it.

I went limp.

Léomede tapped my back.

"I'm not going to drop you. Hold still."

"No, right now—"

"Making a delivery, Your Majesty. Dio fed her something odd. Her legs gave out."

I'm not a package! And my legs didn't give out—I was a little dizzy, but my legs were perfectly fine!

"The rabbit? What did she eat?"

The king lifted my shoulder with easy indifference. Facedown, blood pooled red in my cheeks, I found myself looking directly into his eyes.

'I'm done for.'

I didn't know where to look. Whether he understood my predicament or not, the man—absurdly handsome, hair inexplicably perfect—examined my face and said:

"Red. Did she eat something that causes fever?"

I shook my head frantically.

"No. It's—it's the blood. Blood rushed down."

"Léomede. Apparently the rabbit has blood-rush."

"Ah. I see."

My hips abruptly dropped. The sudden shift made me yelp. But Léomede's hand caught under my legs, steadying me.

"Up we go. Should've done this from the start."

One moment I was slung over his shoulder like a rice sack. The next I was cradled in his arms. I blinked, having absolutely no idea what to do with this situation.

"Hold on, kid."

"To—to what?"

"If you don't put your hands on my shoulder, you'll fall."

I carefully placed my hands on his shoulder. Hard armor under my fingertips. He was right—there was no other way to keep my balance.

And from this position, his face was very close.

'This is... unexpectedly strange.'

All that had changed was how he was holding me, but suddenly I was aware of his scent. Deep. Not unpleasant. It suited him, somehow.

"What did the rabbit eat?"

"Dio said something about a confession compound?"

"So she's intoxicated."

Léomede laughed and adjusted his grip on my shoulder.

"The kid's pretty interesting. Enormous thoughts crammed into that tiny head. Right now with the truth serum she's completely unfiltered."

"What has she been saying?"

"Let's see. I asked how she was feeling, and—"

I clapped both hands over his mouth. Fast.

"Please," I whispered. Desperately.

Did he actually plan to tell the king I'd said I wanted to die? What good would that do? You might laugh it off, but I can't! Do you understand how often I have to see this man? Every morning and night I have to look at this absurdly handsome face—how am I supposed to do that if you announce my breakdown in the corridor!

Tears were actually threatening to happen. No—my eyes were already burning.

I'm not sure how long we stood like that.

The king reached out and tapped my nose.

"Going to cry at this rate."

I wasn't going to cry. This was just a physiological response. Completely involuntary.

Whether he understood that or not, Léomede shrugged and shook his mouth against my hands—the universal signal for let go. I slowly lowered my arms.

"That's how it is," he said.

"More candid than usual. She seems a bit drunk."

"There's apparently an intoxicating component as well."

"Dio will handle it. And my rabbit has an unusual constitution—she'll detox soon enough."

Léomede laughed and shifted me in his arms. The king—looking vaguely dissatisfied—kept picking up my cheek and releasing it. Picking it up and releasing it.

"I'll take my leave, Your Majesty. I need to get her back to the dormitory."

"I'll be waiting on the border report."

"I'll come shortly."

Léomede bowed pleasantly and walked forward. Held in his arms, I watched the king's retreating figure. The man walking away, long black hair swaying—handsome was an inadequate word for him.

How could someone be so completely like a painting. All those ornaments on his clothes, and he wore them as though they'd been made for him. As though they always had been.

"Stunning."

"What?"

I jolted. It had come out of my mouth again. The truth serum was something else.

"Nothing—His Majesty is just very handsome."

"Ah. He is rare, isn't he."

"Coming here, the thing that surprised me most was His Majesty's appearance and the Saint's beauty."

As novel protagonists should be. Both of them looked like they'd never need to eat again as long as they had mirrors.

"What about me?"

What kind of question is that?

"Pardon?"

"I'm reasonably handsome, aren't I?"

I narrowed my eyes and examined Léomede's face at close range. Being this close made it easy.

Sharp, clean eyes. A jaw that read as strength. His head was well-shaped—short hair suited it.

"Your features work well together."

"What?"

I actually turned his face slightly with one hand, testing the angle. The jaw being what it was, he was more handsome straight-on than at a slant.

I made a camera frame with my fingers and shifted the focus around. Moving so deliberately disrupted my balance, but he had a hand under me and I was more stable than I had any right to be.

'I've developed high standards since coming to Iberia, but—honestly? He's attractive.'

The combination of strong neck and the muscle below it was appealing. A man like this, if he showed up at an arranged meeting, you'd agree to at least a few more just on the basis of his face.

"Someone you'd want to be held by?"

"What have you been saying this whole time?"

"Facial assessment."

What gave his open, easygoing features that extra dimension was the scar at his eye corner. Against the backdrop of his profession, it created an effect—this man has a story.

"So? My face?"

I smiled broadly. Women have always been susceptible to handsome men. It's a law of nature.

"You're handsome."

Pure, honest assessment. But the man suddenly looked away. He laughed, a little awkward.

Oh. Is he embarrassed?

A man who seemed to have nerves made of steel. This was unexpected.

But a well-built, capable man being flustered was really something to see. I opened my eyes wide so I wouldn't miss a moment of it.

'I really should be a better person.'

Resolve to live kindly, and the divine will reward you. Witnessing this in real time—thank you, whoever is running this universe.

Léomede kept being embarrassed. I liked it so much my chest was fluttering.

If I could just preserve this moment forever. I wanted to put it in a box. I'm keeping this memory for the rest of my life.

Not knowing any of this, Léomede murmured quietly:

"Doesn't the scar make me look rough?"

"What are you talking about! That's exactly what makes it attractive! Without it, you're just a handsome man. With it, you're a handsome man who has a story. The moment people see you, they'll wonder—how did he get that scar? Did he get it protecting someone important? Was it a blade in a desperate battle?"

Léomede turned his head slightly and smiled, sheepish.

"Inspiring curiosity is an enormous kind of charm!"

"Is—is that so? ...Thank you."

"Who told you it looked bad? No eye for anything whatsoever. Honestly."

I clicked my tongue and shook my head. Léomede shifted me in his arms. It was considerably more comfortable than being transported as a rice sack, it had to be said.

'And I can see his face properly, too.'

Who knew when I'd have another moment like this. I stared openly. He got increasingly uncomfortable, and finally:

"You're... staring a lot, aren't you?"

My conscience pricked. If he doesn't like it, it's rude. I dipped my head slightly.

"I apologize. Does it bother you?"

"No, not exactly..."

He looked at something in the middle distance and muttered:

"Just a bit embarrassed..."

Oh. That's adorable. My heart just moved, a little.

'Muscles and sweetness. The two great male virtues.'

I managed my expression. Internally I was soft as injeolmi straight from the microwave, but I couldn't let it show.

He walked in silence for a while, and then:

"I got it protecting someone who mattered..."

"Pardon?"

"A scar to be proud of. Kid."

Something had happened. Whatever it was, I nodded like I understood. He smiled and pressed and released my cheek with one finger.

"Soft. I see why His Majesty keeps touching you."

"His Majesty has different reasons."

"Ah, right. You're cool to the touch, aren't you?"

"Yes. I don't know why."

Léomede set me down on the ground. It was only then I realized we'd arrived at the maids' dormitory. He exchanged a greeting with the soldier guarding the men-restricted zone and said to me:

"Take good care of His Majesty."