The next day, the baron left.
Packing up in just one day meant that he was in that much of a hurry.
“I don’t think it’ll escalate to war, though.”
The baron spoke to Ayla.
“Take care of yourself.”
If Ayla didn’t survive, then the baron’s plans would be over.
To take control of this county, he needed justification.
He couldn’t just let it fall into Seila’s hands.
“I hope you return safely, Baron.”
Ayla’s voice was laced with thorns.
It was natural, considering she had never welcomed him in the first place.
“…”
After staying here for two weeks, the only thing the baron gained was the realization that “the county was running just fine without a count.”
If there had been anything to use as leverage, he might have said something.
But unfortunately for him, everything was running too smoothly for him to find fault with.
Even though Ayla had dismissed all the servants around the mansion, she hadn’t dismissed all the soldiers guarding the county.
There was a brief disruption in the chain of command, but I was able to fill that gap upon my arrival.
The soldiers’ wages were barely kept from being delayed.
Helena reported to me a few times about bandits.
Of course, our “maids” took care of them on their own.
Sometimes, four or five of them would be absent at once, likely because they were dealing with nearby bandits.
On their way back, they would buy supplies like food and fabric—things that the women of the count’s household needed.
Of course, every time they returned, Ayla would look at them with suspicion.
Ayla watched the baron leave for a while, then her shoulders slumped.
On the surface, she looked fine, but she must have been more concerned than she let on.
After all, he was her father—the one who tried to use her to take over the county.
And he had almost succeeded.
If Ayla hadn’t met me here, if she hadn’t been able to persuade Seila and had wasted more time…
…… No, would that really have happened?
Would Ayla have simply stayed here until then?
She might have taken Seila and fled, even if she had to do it by force.
I don’t know what would have happened after that.
But what matters is the present.
I am here with Ayla.
Ayla turned to look at me.
Her eyes were half-closed.
She looked like she might be glaring, or maybe staring in disappointment, or perhaps she was just too tired to keep them open.
“I want to rest.”
“I will make the preparations.”
“Luna. Only you, come with me.”
“Understood, Lady Ayla.”
As Ayla spoke and started walking, slightly unsteady—
“Wait!”
Seila suddenly jumped in front of her.
Behind her stood a witch—no, now she was Seila’s personal maid, Daisy.
She didn’t seem to be trying to stop her.
Knowing Daisy’s personality, she was more likely encouraging it.
Though she wasn’t doing it to incite a real fight—she just found Seila adorable and treated her like a cherished grandchild.
That was the real problem.
……… Should I consider replacing her as a personal maid someday?
Helena might be a good choice.
No, that would probably lead to accusations of “stepmother’s abuse” or something similar.
Because—
“You’re planning to torment Luna, aren’t you!?”
That’s right.
Seila also had misunderstandings about me.
Since I was Ayla’s personal maid, we were always together.
And there was a choker around my neck that would tighten if I didn’t follow Ayla’s orders.
Sometimes, Ayla was quite sharp with me.
Plus, Seila had read books she had taken from her father’s study without permission.
“……”
Ayla glanced at me briefly.
…… Well.
Strictly speaking, I was the one tormenting Ayla.
I move for Ayla’s sake.
That hasn’t changed.
And everything I do—
Ultimately, I do it to protect her properly.
“That’s right.”
Ayla said.
Then, she stepped closer to Seila and tilted her face slightly.
“I plan to torment Luna. For a very, very long time. Persistently. So, what are you going to do about it?”
“Knew it…!”
Behind Seila, Daisy looked like she was about to burst into laughter as she glanced at me.
“So, my lady, just take your time and relax. You’ll probably see us again by evening. Daisy, take care of her.”
“Yes, I will do my best.”
“Luna!”
“Lady Seila, Lady Ayla was only joking.”
“It’s not a joke.”
Even if it wasn’t, it didn’t matter.
If Ayla was the one tormenting me, then I would gladly accept it.
Seeing my completely unfazed expression, Ayla sighed slightly, shook her head, and turned away.
I followed behind her.
She didn’t say a word to me as we walked through the hallway.
When we arrived at the room, she abruptly opened the door and walked straight to the bed—
Thud.
She collapsed onto the bed, burying her face in it.
She didn’t say a word about changing clothes or washing up.
I quietly closed the door and approached Ayla.
“My body feels sore all over.”
Ayla murmured.
“You know how to give a massage, right?”
“Of course, Lady Ayla.”
I responded and climbed onto the bed, kneeling at the edge so my feet remained outside.
I had learned how to massage when I was younger.
Ayla had taught me.
Of course, I had never been the one to massage her before.
The gap between a commoner and a noble’s illegitimate daughter was vast.
Especially for an illegitimate daughter—she could always be used as a pawn for the family, so she actually had a higher chance of being accepted back into the nobility than an illegitimate son.
Strictly speaking, a baron’s daughter like Ayla shouldn’t have been touching my body either—
But back then, I was just a child.
I reached out and grasped Ayla’s calf.
Her clothes were soft and thin.
Not sheer enough to be see-through, but enough that I could feel the shape of her legs beneath the silk.
They weren’t overly tense, so they weren’t too stiff, but—
“Hmm…”
A quiet breath escaped from Ayla’s lips for a moment, a sign that she was somewhat exhausted.
“…No, wait a moment.”
As I slowly massaged her calf and started moving upward, Ayla stopped me.
The leg I was holding suddenly turned, and before I knew it, Ayla was lying on her side, looking at me.
“That massage… where did you learn it?”
“There was an opportunity to learn it briefly when I was young.”
“…Just how young?”
“…”
I hesitated for a moment before raising my hand slightly.
“When I was about this tall.”
Probably. I don’t remember exactly.
“…”
Ayla stared at me in silence for a while.
“Are you feeling better now?”
“…No.”
At my question, Ayla flopped back onto the bed.
“Continue. I still haven’t recovered from my fatigue.”
“Why?”
This time, when I remained silent, Ayla asked.
“I was wondering how far I’m allowed to go.”
“The person who even bathes me is worried about something like that?”
I mean, I don’t actually wash her legs, though.
“Well, that’s true.”
But Ayla seemed to realize something and quickly added,
“Let’s just do the legs today. The rest… no, I don’t really feel that tired there.”
“Understood, Lady Ayla.”
I reached out again and carefully massaged Ayla’s calf.
“Hmm.”
I decided to ignore the sound Ayla made as much as possible.
Ayla had always been the one giving massages.
Someone who might one day become a ‘lady’ shouldn’t be touching a commoner man’s body like that.
At first, there was no particular feeling behind it.
We were just kids.
Ayla was young too, but I was much smaller and younger than her, so massaging my legs didn’t seem strange to anyone.
They probably thought, “She just found an amusing toy.” That was all.
But as I grew taller—eventually surpassing Ayla by a whole head—she could no longer do it in front of others.
On the other hand, Ayla had never received a massage before.
She and everyone else must have considered that inappropriate.
Maybe they thought it could really cross a line.
After all, young men and women sometimes share physical intimacy even without love.
On that hill, under the shade of a tree, Ayla used to massage my legs and shoulders.
By then, we had both gotten used to it.
At some point, it just became natural.
And yet, we both knew that to outsiders, it didn’t look natural at all.
Would this be how it felt if he had ever given me a massage?
I couldn’t know for sure, since our situations were different.
But this movement—it was definitely similar to what Ayla had done for him.
Had my hands ever gone up this far before?
That thought crossed Ayla’s mind.
“…Lady Ayla.”
When my hands left her skin, Ayla unconsciously let out a small breath.
A bit of disappointment.
Somewhere, just a little.
But not yet.
She wasn’t sure what “not yet” meant or where it would lead, but that’s what she thought.
Yes.
She had always thought that way when she was with him.
Not yet.
Not yet.
And in the end, it simply never happened.
He left.
He must have grown tired of her.
Of her constantly trying to sever ties until the very last moment.
“Let’s postpone bathing until the evening.
For now, I’ll just stay here on the bed for a bit.”
“Understood, Lady Ayla.”
“Don’t leave. I might suddenly get thirsty.”
“Understood. I will wait here until you wake up.”
“……”
Hearing my response and feeling reassured by it, Ayla once again thought,
“Not yet.”