Chapter 13
When Lucius returned to his tent, a servant rushed over to help him remove his armor.
The luxurious carpet was soon stained with someone else’s blood.
Lucius stared at the spreading red stains and pressed a hand hard against his forehead.
“How amusing… the smell of blood is this repulsive.”
Even though he spilled it to stay alive, he knew full well that was no justification.
‘Still, Mother, I will gladly become a monster.’
Lucius had no intention of yielding anything to Hart or Milady.
A little later, someone appeared beside Lucius, who was now dressed in comfortable trousers and a shirt.
“Lord Lucius, is the headache acting up again?”
“Damn it, give me the medicine, quickly.”
Lucius took the green potion Hero brought and swallowed it in one gulp.
It was so bitter that his smooth brow wrinkled.
“It tastes so awful I want to kill whoever made it.”
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and spoke in a cold tone. The maid let out a small scream and fled the tent.
Hero sighed as he watched her run away.
“Your Highness, how many maids is that now?”
“My head feels like it’s splitting open. Does that really matter?”
Lucius replied irritably; he had been suffering from severe headaches for years.
“I wonder when your condition will finally improve.”
“That’s not what you’re supposed to say right now.”
Lucius snapped harshly, and Hero waved a hand dismissively.
“Ah, I’m just sorry that I’m the only one who gets to see this side of you.”
“Shut up.”
Hero wasn’t naturally warm, but he gently shook his head at Lucius, who had somehow grown even colder.
“By the way, why did you act like that earlier?”
Hero hadn’t seen it himself, but he had pieced the situation together from what the guard knight Gemini reported.
‘Truly strange.’
Lucius was ferocious on the battlefield, yet he rarely behaved that way toward civilians.
They said the person was a small, frail boy.
“Ah, those eyes.”
Lucius tossed the empty vial aside, twisting his lips as he spoke.
“You didn’t like his eyes, did you?”
Hero nodded, remembering that Lucius had never once praised anyone.
Lucius found it hard to agree with Hero’s words, but he didn’t correct him.
‘Why did I act that way?’
Her trembling shoulders and lips covered in peeling skin were still vivid in his mind. She had definitely been happy to see his face.
He hadn’t seen a look like that in a very long time.
‘I’m thinking useless thoughts.’
He decided to focus on plans to eliminate his enemies.
“Hero, call Gemini. We need to discuss the next strategy.”
Hero grumbled at being treated like an errand boy from time to time.
“You do remember I’m a great mage, right, Your Highness?”
“Shut up, Hero.”
Lucius shouted, and Hero nodded lazily before leaving the tent.
* * *
The Lucius who now stood before Freya was completely different from the blood-soaked figure she had seen earlier. He wore a clean shirt, black trousers, and a short cloak embroidered with golden threads.
‘Does he think this will change my first impression of him?’
Freya gripped the wooden laundry bat and tried to bow stiffly.
But her threatening posture made Lucius frown.
“You’re not planning to hit me with that, are you?”
“…Of course not.”
Freya quickly lowered her arm.
‘By the way, why did he come to the laundry area?’
She was confused—should she continue working or stop in front of His Highness?
She glanced sideways and saw Lucius lying on a nearby rock, covering his eyes with his hand.
‘Isn’t there anywhere else to rest? Why here?’
Feeling uncomfortable, she decided to keep washing. Even as she swung the bat, she could feel his presence behind her.
‘I wish he’d leave soon…’
There were countless rumors about Lucius, and every one of them was bizarre.
They said he licked the blood off his sword after killing someone.
That he slept on piles of corpses.
That if anyone feared death, it was Lucius.
Freya shook her head hard, recalling some of those rumors.
‘Enough. There’s no point trembling like a mouse.’
After rinsing the laundry several times and wringing it out, she placed the clothes in the basket one by one, and her scattered thoughts faded.
‘Will dinner tonight be porridge with fat?’
Archer said the food here was terrible, but she disagreed.
‘At least the bread isn’t moldy, and the porridge has chunks of meat or vegetables.’
If Archer had been a friend from the orphanage, he would never have complained.
‘He’d probably eat the bowl itself because the food here is so good.’
Freya smiled secretly and beat the laundry even harder, enjoying the thought. She remembered Archer’s strong figure carrying the huge pile of laundry.
He’s so strong. If it were me, I’d have to make several trips.
Freya muttered to herself and suddenly felt moved.
‘I never expected luck like this to come my way.’
Despite all his grumbling, Archer was truly a good person.
‘By the way, how is Lottie doing?’
She remembered the last face she saw—Lottie forcing a smile while holding back tears.
Freya clenched her fist toward the empty air.
‘I’ll earn lots of money and come get you soon.’
To do that, she had to work even harder. She wouldn’t get rich turning down simple jobs. Freya raised the bat higher.
Meanwhile, Lucius appeared to be resting comfortably, but his mind was in turmoil.
‘Why did I come here?’
He rarely felt curiosity toward others, especially commoners.
Even with her short hair and trousers, her body was clearly not that of a boy.
‘This is truly strange.’
A vague feeling had drawn him here during his break. Perhaps this suspicious woman was connected to the mage Milady had hired.
‘Anything suspicious must be uprooted completely.’
That was why he had ordered her movements watched.
“…Hmm.”
Lucius’s thick brows twitched when he coughed for no reason.
They said the woman enthusiastically beating laundry lived here doing odd jobs.
‘How can she focus on something like that while I’m right here?’
Was he not the legitimate heir to the Morsiani Empire?
Lucius felt insulted that she showed no interest in him.
He reached up and lightly touched his face.
‘Have the battlefields ruined my looks?’
Women feared him, but they also desired him passionately.
Ever since he had begun to mature, those burning gazes had exhausted him.
‘It doesn’t feel good to be ignored.’
When she still didn’t look at him even after he moved, Lucius made up his mind.
‘I’ll make her look at me, no matter what it takes.’
Lucius took off his shirt and slowly walked toward Freya.
Meanwhile, Freya had finally managed to concentrate on her work when she heard footsteps on the grass.
Since they were the only two here, it had to be His Highness.
‘What’s going on? Why is he coming closer?’
Was he planning to cut her down and lick her blood?
Freya gripped the bat tightly, trembling, determined to smash it over his head if he tried anything.
She remembered that killing a member of the royal family was punishable by beheading, but she squeezed her eyes shut.
‘I’ll think about it later.’
But after a while, nothing happened, so she cautiously glanced sideways.
She saw Lucius removing his shirt and bending over.
“Your Highness…?”
Why was he walking around half-naked?
While Freya stood bewildered, Lucius spoke slowly.
“…Go ahead.”
Freya would bet everything she owned that the rumors about his madness were true. It was rare—no, practically impossible—for someone to offer their back like this.
Freya looked at him hesitantly and asked to be sure.
“Your Highness, are you asking me to wash your back?”
“What else would I be asking for?”
When his cold voice flowed from his lips, her shoulders shrank.
She mustn’t forget—he wasn’t Archer, he was a prince of the empire.
“…Alright.”
Freya filled a small bucket with water and began carefully washing his back, her hands shaking.
She gently poured water over his back. She didn’t even think of using the brush.
‘If I get his trousers wet, he might use it as an excuse to cut my head off.’
She didn’t understand why she had angered him.
‘Ah, people have all kinds of ways to torment others.’
She silently cursed him inside without letting it show.
She noticed a huge scar on his neck—it looked like a snake had coiled around it, massive and terrifying.
‘Why would someone so precious have something like this on his body?’
It was clear how much pain he must have suffered at the time.
‘I may not know court etiquette, but I know what it’s like to be beaten.’
The scar on her own forehead and nose began to throb.
‘Prince or not, pain is the same.’
Freya suddenly snapped out of it and poured the rest of the water from the bucket. But she didn’t see Lucius straighten up again. The water ended up splashing straight into his face.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”
Freya couldn’t even bring herself to look at Lucius’s face, now dripping like a soaked rat.
