TMBIPYMEN Chapter 17

Meanwhile, Layla stepped into the bathroom and immediately hesitated, at a loss for words.

Warm water filling a pure white porcelain tub with four golden feet and the fragrance rising from it, dozens of glass bottles and dried petals, beyond the rising steam a soft beige robe spreading its arms like a headless sentinel...

It was luxurious enough that ordinary girls would have screamed with delight or pretended to faint, but Layla felt like she might actually faint for different reasons.

The employees calling her 'miss' was bewildering enough, but more absurd was the fact that she had to rely on their hands even for undressing.

She tried some resistance, saying she'd undress herself, but they invoked the strange rule that 'since you are His Highness's guest, we must attend to you without deficiency.'

Hah...

Whether from the warm bathwater or from having to watch others wash her body while wearing only a thin robe that revealed everything underneath, Layla emerged from the bathroom without strength to lift a finger.

The employees took Layla's clothes somewhere else and instead led her behind a partition they'd set up beforehand.

"What? Where are my clothes?"

"Your clothes are here."

At the familiar voice from beyond the partition, Layla rose slightly on her heels. Marchioness Hymierd's face appeared first. Beside her hung a clothing rack with three or four dresses.

Before Layla could properly see what they were, she shook her head.

"I can't wear things like that."

"I wouldn't be so sure? On the contrary, you can't continue staying here in that outfit, can you?"

At the Marchioness's words, Layla looked down at herself anew. Instead of the thin robe she'd worn for bathing, she wore thicker, softer material—a top and skirt—but no matter how she looked at it, these were merely undergarments.

Marchioness Hymierd spoke.

"Don't worry. I chose the least uncomfortable ones. Hmm... Your face is youthful and beautiful, but that hair color is quite troublesome. This pink and yellow won't suit you at all. Well... Blue might work."

Fortunately or unfortunately, Layla's ears barely registered the Marchioness's muttering. Her mind was half elsewhere, desperately retracing where exactly she was and what she'd come here to do.

"Now, Miss Layla. Put this on."

When the Marchioness pointed to a dress, the employees standing behind quickly brought the clothing rack forward.

A lace petticoat, an inner dress more rigid and fuller, thin undergarments that defined the waist and chest lines—by the time they'd dressed her in all these, Layla finally came to her senses.

"Wait, the ribbons are too..."

Though Layla had a slender build, the employees mercilessly pulled the ribbons attached to the undergarments, cinching her waist as tight as possible. Fussing with her tightly fixed lower abdomen, Layla said,

"I can't breathe!"

At her loud voice, the employees jumped back startled as if they'd seen a ghost. Layla quickly added an explanation with a complicated expression.

"I'm not angry. It's not that, but..."

Marchioness Hymierd fluttered her fan toward the employees.

"It's her first time wearing such things, so loosen it a bit."

When the employees loosened the ribbons slightly, only then did breath that had been blocked somewhere inside her belly begin to flow.

She wanted to say she wouldn't wear it at all, but that wouldn't do... Marchioness Hymierd clearly wouldn't permit that.

The blue dress the Marchioness had chosen for Layla had the upper chest area cut in the shape of butterfly wings, revealing alluring lines subtly, but other decorations were kept to a minimum.

Though the petticoat layered underneath made the hem puff out fully, it wasn't difficult to walk in.

Hymierd continued.

"I've also prepared the most comfortable shoes possible."

"I've never worn shoes before."

"You can't wear leather slippers with that dress, so you'll have to endure it."

She had no reply. No, she did have replies! There were overflowing things she wanted to say—including the question of whether they couldn't bring Yustar to her immediately—but Layla obediently followed Hymierd's words for now.

After all, she was in a position to have received orders from Yustar to care for her, and Layla didn't want to make things difficult.

"Are they all right?"

The shoes had low heels like children's, as Marchioness Hymierd said, but for Layla who always wore loose, worn leather slippers, she couldn't understand what was supposed to be comfortable about them. At least after stumbling a few times, she could walk.

"I think they're all right. Probably... Though I couldn't walk far."

"Don't worry. You'll stay in this room until His Highness the King's Brother gives separate orders. You saw the bathroom earlier, and the bedroom is through that arched entrance on the right. Opposite it is the toilette room, though Miss Chrysrad won't need it... At least not right now. But if you want to look around, you may. The kitchen will bring refreshments soon. His Highness the King's Brother will certainly invite you to dinner, so even if you're hungry, you'd better eat lightly."

It won't be a single bean, will it. Layla suddenly thought.

Though she knew that couldn't be true, she couldn't stop her thoughts from jumping to strange places... In fact, if she didn't do that, she felt she might truly go mad.

"Through this way are the drawing room, study, office and a second bedroom. Use whichever bedroom is comfortable, though I recommend the first one I mentioned. That side gets sunlight longer. Stay here until His Highness the King's Brother comes, but if something urgent arises, speak to the employees."

Layla asked.

"Won't you... Marchioness, be staying here?"

Marchioness Hymierd scoffed as if to say, are you serious? Though she felt mocked, the Marchioness's intent didn't feel quite that unpleasant.

"Relax. I know you're flustered and I'd like to help, but I have matters to attend to. If you need anything, tell these two. Sel and Millie."

Layla gazed at the two employees. In speed of undressing people, probably no one could match them... At any rate, they wouldn't undress her from this outfit, so that was fortunate.

"All right."

"Then rest."

Marchioness Hymierd left a brief farewell and turned away without lingering. Watching her straight back receding, Layla felt as if she'd been discarded as useless. A strange experience.

As the Marchioness said, the kitchen soon brought food.

Pastries baked with thick milk cream and honey mixed in, red tea with a tart fragrance, and one apple. It wasn't very large, but seeing that glossy red color suddenly made her hungry.

When Layla bit into the apple, the employees—Sel and Millie—looked at each other's faces in dismay.

"Um, miss."

Layla glanced toward Sel.

"I'm not a miss. I'm just a girl who lived in some unknown country village."

"Since you're a guest His Highness the King's Brother has received, we have no choice regarding how to address you. Please understand. More than that... Shall we peel the apple for you?"

Layla looked down at the apple she'd bitten into deeply. And from the employees' restless expressions, she realized one fact...

"I'm supposed to do it that way here, aren't I?"

Millie said.

"It's not absolutely required. But young ladies usually... do it that way."

Young ladies. Layla murmured inwardly. Who would have ever thought the day would come when someone would call her a 'lady'? Not the idiots from Ridgecarse village, of course, nor even the mother who'd birthed her could have imagined it.

"It's all right. But I'll peel them from now on."

Sel and Millie said nothing more, only silently watched Layla eat.

That too was rather burdensome for Layla, but once warm, sweet food began entering her empty stomach, nothing else mattered.

"His Highness the Crown's Blood has arrived."

The door opening toward the corridor swung wide open on both sides as the attendant's booming voice was heard.

Layla's head shot up. Yustar was truly striding into the room. He must have bathed as well—his hair, which he almost always kept tied, now hung completely loose.

"Does it suit your taste?"

Layla, swallowing what was in her mouth, nodded carefully.

"May I sit?"

"Yes... Of course. Don't you not need to ask me such things anymore? Since you're His Highness the King's Brother."

As if it didn't matter, Yustar shrugged.

"King's brother or king, one must receive permission when intending to sit opposite a lady. Anyway, thank you for allowing it. I was on the verge of collapse."

Yustar, who had perched on the chair while exaggerating, glanced sideways at Sel and Millie.

"You two, leave for a moment."

The two left immediately without delay. They didn't forget to close the door properly, of course. Once only the two of them remained, Layla couldn't continue devouring the pastry so greedily and quietly set down her fork.

Yustar said,

"What's wrong? Keep eating."

"Don't you have quite a lot to explain to me?"

Though she hadn't intended it, somehow her tone came out accusatory. While Layla mentally punched herself in the head, Yustar watched her with that inscrutable smile.

"That's true... Quite a lot. We might stay up all night talking and still run out of time. So Layla, ask anything you're curious about. I promise to answer honestly."

Layla didn't trust verbal promises. But she couldn't exactly extract a signed statement from him here saying 'I will speak all facts without concealment'...

'If only I could make a tincture. What did Mother call it? Right, 'the prescription for habitual liars.'

Just one or two drops added to breakfast or evening soup, and the person who consumed it would spill every secret they'd kept hidden without any resistance. A terrifying kind of tincture.

It caused no physical burden, but people who took it invariably collapsed after finishing their story.

Partly from exhaustion, but more from psychological reasons. Because sometimes among secrets, there are things that no one should know.

It would be convenient to give that to Yustar now. Layla thought. But she soon erased that thought from her mind. No, it was erased... She felt it would be better to trust his promise.

"Are you truly His Highness the King's Brother?"