13. Attending the Bath (1)

The vanished prince.

Kalkus Traskan.

The First Prince, son of the First Consort.

Despite being second in the line of succession—right after the Crown Prince, who was born of the Empress—he had left the imperial palace in his childhood and disappeared, withdrawing early from the battle for succession.

The First Consort, though still living in the palace under the Emperor’s favor, had sent her son away at a young age.

Without granting him any official position or property—aside from the title of prince.

Though she was the Emperor’s most beloved woman, she was not of noble or beast-blood lineage but a commoner, and thus lacked the power to protect her child in the struggle for authority.

And so, rather than preserving his chances of inheriting power, she chose to prioritize his life.

By erasing his presence so that he would not even be considered a rival in the deadly struggle for the throne, she also removed the possibility of his life being threatened.

As a result, within the palace now, the Second Prince—next in line—was locked in a fierce succession battle with the Crown Prince.

Unless something unexpected happened, Kalkus Traskan would likely live in hiding, just as his mother intended—and survive.

Strange.

Takan, Traskan.

Even the surnames sounded oddly similar.

Come to think of it, wasn’t the First Consort from somewhere near Vergen?

In any case, this man named Kalkus Takan was said to be very close to Klein Riden.

Considering that even the local lord had personally guaranteed him.

Which, come to think of it, was also strange.

Why would the Lord of Vergen go so far as to provide joint surety for a mere servant’s acquaintance—just so he could receive an advance payment?

Could it be… that this Kalkus Takan really was the missing prince?

The more he examined the documents, the more unsettling they became. Everything about Klein Riden seemed suspicious, and even the guarantor was no ordinary figure.

Klein Riden… what exactly are you?

The suspicion that began from his connection to the woman Klein Riden had imprinted on gradually expanded into doubt about Klein Riden himself.

To the point where it felt necessary to endure the inconvenience and uncover each lie one by one.

Of course, this was simply the conclusion reached from realizing—and reflecting on—the fact that, as the head of the household, he had been too indifferent to internal affairs in the absence of a mistress.

It was definitely not interest in a mere servant.

“Pardon, Your Grace?”

Chloe asked again, wondering if she had misheard.

“I told you to attend my bath.”

“…My bath?”

She couldn’t help but question it. He had never once asked for such a thing before.

“Come to think of it, you’ve managed to deceive me and still keep your position as my attendant.”

“….”

That was true. There were so many lies now that she didn’t even know where to begin refuting.

“Then shouldn’t you at least perform your duties diligently?”

“…And that includes attending your bath?”

“For now.”

For now? Did that mean there would be more later?

But worrying about the future wasn’t the issue.

She had to deal with this bath first.

Attending a bath meant… assisting while he bathed. And bathing meant being completely undressed…

Chloe squeezed her eyes shut for a moment, as an image flashed through her mind.

Don’t think about it!

This was absolutely not okay.

Just remembering the Duke’s naked body from that day was enough to make her face burn—how was she supposed to see it again?

And that time, it had been dark. But this time… it would be in broad light.

No. Absolutely not.

“Y-Your Grace, I don’t think I’m suited for attending your bath.”

Your Grace, I’m not a man! I can’t do this! I’m a woman!

“Are you saying an attendant is not suited to serve their master? Then what are you suited for?”

She had no answer. Attendants assisting with baths was perfectly normal.

“If I, who admire Your Grace, were to see your bare body… I might feel a bit strange.”

Even if she didn’t truly admire him, that part was completely honest.

“Should I be concerned about my attendant’s feelings?”

You… heartless Duke.

He hadn’t been like this before.

He wasn’t the kind of master who ignored his servants’ words or made arbitrary demands like this.

He used to do everything himself.

“Well… it’s not that I mind. But wouldn’t you be uncomfortable with my gaze?”

A male attendant liking you—wouldn’t that bother you at all?

“Not particularly.”

Then why had he always kept distance from everyone, man or woman, like they were all germs?

She almost wanted to grab him by the collar and demand an answer.

“Until now, you’ve always done things yourself. Why do you suddenly need assistance?”

“Because I used to find it more convenient alone. But now that I think about it… it seems my attendant has been a bit too comfortable because of that.”

Unbelievable.

His personality had clearly changed.

Making a servant do something he didn’t even like—just because he didn’t want them lounging around.

“Didn’t you dislike having someone attend your bath?”

“Who knows? I’ve never had anyone do it before.”

Chloe bit her lip, unable to respond.

To be honest, when she first became an attendant, she had prepared herself for things like this.

She knew, at least in theory, that she would have to abandon her old way of life, become someone’s servant, and act accordingly—no matter what task she was given.

But in reality, the awkwardness had been far greater than she imagined.

Master.

It was a word she had never once used for another person growing up.

Even though their mother had raised them deep in the forest, isolated from others, she had always said:

“Never bow to anyone. You are your own masters.”

That was why she had strongly opposed her brother working for a ducal household—though she hadn’t stopped him in the end.

“Because you are the master of your own life.”

Perhaps by sheer luck, the Duke wasn’t the kind of master who made his servants feel humiliated.

Attending his bath wasn’t an unreasonable demand—it was something a master could naturally ask.

He just hadn’t done so until now.

The problem was her own situation, which made something ordinary feel excessive.

“Get ready. Oh—and you seem to wear too many layers. It would be better to dress more lightly when attending a bath. Unless you want your clothes soaked and dripping all over the carpet.”

“…!”

“Take some off before you come.”

Unbothered by her inner turmoil, the Duke spoke calmly—like he was giving practical advice.

Take them off.

Chloe instinctively crossed her arms over her chest.

Forgetting that she was fully clothed.

“…What are you doing?”

“Ah! N-Nothing. I’ll prepare right away.”

Lowering her arms hastily, she fled the study in a daze.

This was a disaster.

As he said, she couldn’t attend a bath dressed like this, jacket and all.

But she couldn’t undress either.

A shirt under another shirt, undergarments beneath that, and even more layers under those.

How much could she remove without revealing her figure?

Since that mistake the other night, every moment in the ducal estate had felt like a crisis—but never like this.

Never like she was about to be stripped bare.

Chloe stood a few steps away from the bathtub, head lowered, waiting for the Duke to enter first.

Thud. Thud. Clink.

The sound of his clothes hitting the floor echoed.

She knew she was supposed to help him undress—and to pick up and fold his clothes.

But she couldn’t bring herself to approach him, and kept her head down.

Fortunately, the Duke didn’t seem to care whether his clothes lay on the floor or not.

Soon, the sounds stopped, followed by the splash of water as he entered the bath.

“Ugh! Why is there so much bath additive in here?”

Only then did Chloe cautiously lift her head.

Before he had arrived, she had poured an entire bottle into the tub—so thick foam would cover the water’s surface and hide his body.

Sure enough, all she could see was foam floating on top.

“I heard it’s good for relieving fatigue, so I added more. If you lean back, shall I wash your hair?”

The Duke looked her up and down.

“Like that? Shirt, trousers—you’re going to wash my hair dressed like that? Your clothes will be soaked.”

“I’ll roll up my sleeves and pants. Please don’t worry.”

Even if they got a little wet, it couldn’t be helped. For a woman disguised as a man, her layered clothing was like armor on a battlefield.

She began rolling up her sleeves.

The Duke stared at her intently. Feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, she subtly turned her body away.

But she soon regretted it.

Facing away from him while rolling up her trousers to her calves somehow felt even more awkward.

It feels like I’m sticking my backside out toward him…

How embarrassing.

In the end, she turned back toward him and finished rolling up the other leg.

What is wrong with him?

Strangely, the Duke kept watching her—openly, blatantly.

Even though she had only exposed her forearms and calves, it felt as if she were completely naked under his persistent gaze.

“Isn’t it hot?”

He asked, brushing back his damp hair from his forehead—perhaps because of the thick steam filling the room.

Was it the heat from the water, or the humidity in the air?

His languid movements looked… dangerously sensual.