Chapter 15. The Attendant Servant

“Yes. I’ll take my leave.”

Only then did Klein stagger to his feet. As he turned his head slightly, he glanced at Hugray.

“Ha, seriously. What kind of state are you in? Can you even see like that? Why not just take off your glasses?”

Now he could guess why Klein had been fussing with his hair so much.

As usual, Klein was wearing thick glasses that covered nearly half his face, the kind that made him look stifled. But now the lenses were fogged over, so clouded that it was questionable whether he could see anything at all through them.

“N-no, it’s fine. I can see.”

Even as he said that, Klein raised his arm and wiped his glasses.

“You look like an idiot.”

Wiping the lenses with his damp forearm only made things worse—the glasses became slick with moisture and completely smeared.

Realizing they were now stained with water, Klein lifted his upper arm all the way up to his face and rubbed the lenses again.

He looked utterly foolish. Was there anyone else who would clean their glasses like that—without even taking them off—besides Klein Riden?

Still wearing the ruined glasses, Klein staggered out of the bathroom.

Everything looked strange.

Everything.

His overly hurried footsteps.

The pathetic, clumsy way he had wiped his glasses.

Even the fact that his backside was soaked from slipping on the wet bathroom floor.

And those calves, running off—too smooth, too slender, and far too pale.

But strangest of all was the change in the air.

Only after Klein disappeared from the bathroom did Hugray finally feel like he could breathe properly.

While that guy had been inside, his scent had been so overwhelmingly strong that Hugray had been holding his breath, only sneaking in shallow breaths when he reached his limit.

Even if someone were seeing a woman with the same scent… could it really be that strong?

It wasn’t even right after meeting her.

Ah… could it really be…?

The possibility he wanted to deny kept raising its head as if it were the truth.

It was strange that someone else would have the exact same scent… but no matter how he thought about it, that scent seemed to belong to Klein Riden himself.

Not something he had picked up elsewhere—but something he was emitting.

A scent so sweet it was maddening. So intoxicating it made him want to drink it in.

Dangerous. This is really dangerous.

He decided he needed to send word to Joyce to speed up the investigation.

He had to find the woman quickly.

At this rate, he might end up imprinting on that attendant servant.

Of course, that was absurd. A wolf that had already imprinted, imprinting again—and on someone of the same sex, no less.

But his current physical condition was just as absurd.

It wasn’t just his sense of smell—his entire body was reacting to that guy, Klein Riden.

He needed to find the one he had imprinted on. As soon as possible.

Returning to her room, Chloe stood there blankly, like a person who had lost her soul. She needed to change out of her soaked clothes, but she didn’t even have the presence of mind to do so.

The image she had just seen kept floating in front of her eyes.

So that’s what it was.

That.

That night, she had been tormented in the dark room until dawn. But because she had fled while the early morning dimness still filled the room, it was the first time she had truly seen it clearly.

Duke Hugray Wolfaz.

She had known he was perfect and imposing, but… did he really have to be that perfect and overwhelming down to every last detail?

Even a brief glance at his completely naked body—rising boldly—was enough to leave one speechless. It was harmoniously proportioned, almost beautiful.

But the moment her gaze landed on what stood out at the very center, the overall image vanished from her mind.

Only one thing remained.

That… much…

No. Don’t think about it. No recalling!

Chloe shook her head violently, trying to edit and delete the image from her mind.

But once a memory takes root, it stubbornly refuses to disappear.

Still… it didn’t seem possible.

The more she tried to shake off the image, the more it brought a chain of questions with it.

I mean… that… and then… but how was that even possible?

She found it hard to believe all over again that she had done that with the Duke.

But it had definitely happened. If it had been a dream, her body wouldn’t have ached like that for days afterward. The aftermath itself was proof it was real.

So that’s why.

Only now did she understand why her body had felt like it had been beaten up for days after that night.

With that realization, the faint guilt she had felt toward the Duke began to fade away like mist.

No woman could possibly handle a man like that.

Maybe the reason he had avoided women so much—enough to earn rumors that he was impotent—was because he himself knew his condition and had a shred of conscience.

Honestly, did Sir Joyce even know what he was talking about when he got angry about “the woman”? Did he know what his lord was actually like?

At that level, hadn’t she practically sacrificed herself for the Duke?

Thinking this far, Chloe even set a mental deadline.

The day either Sir Joyce or the information guild brought back results, she would leave the estate immediately.

The Duke had no right to keep her as an attendant servant based on baseless threats.

Until now, she had stayed out of guilt for deceiving him—and fear of being found out.

But now, regardless of what results they brought—even if it was revealed that she really was that woman—her desire to leave this place outweighed any fear of what would happen after.

If her disguise as a man was exposed, she would take responsibility for that.

But even if she had been the one to initiate things that night… afterward, there was no way she alone could have handled a man like that.

No. Impossible. Absolutely impossible.

So it wasn’t entirely her responsibility, right?

Still shaken from what she had seen while attending his bath, Chloe finished rationalizing things to herself.

It wasn’t something she alone had to bear—the result of a mutually agreed night between two adults.

Waking up a full hour earlier than usual, Chloe rubbed her sleepy eyes as she prepared washing water and carried it to the Duke’s bedroom, grumbling under her breath.

Things had changed too much.

Ever since making her attend his bath, the Duke had begun working her relentlessly—hardly the same man who used to leave his attendant servant alone.

From preparing his clothes in advance, to helping him dress, to even assisting with meals he had always eaten alone.

Even during training at the practice grounds, she had to stay right by his side—ready to hand him water the moment he was thirsty, or a towel the moment he began to sweat.

Still, she couldn’t exactly complain. This was, after all, what attendant servants normally did.

It was just that she had been living an absurdly easy life until now.

Well… aside from the fact that he had added tasks no ordinary attendant would do.

As if he couldn’t stand seeing her idle, the Duke even made her translate books written in Tigris into the Empire’s language, Elayion.

Any spare time between attending him had to be spent on translation work.

Since she had been hired for her Tigris language skills, she couldn’t refuse—and besides, he was offering extra pay for it.

In any case, from the moment he woke up, the Duke called for her constantly, forcing her to change not only her waking time but even her meal schedule.

Just wait until Sir Joyce arrives. I’m leaving that very day!

Grinding her teeth, she entered with the prepared washing water.

The Duke was lounging on the bed, reading something leisurely.

Must be nice.

“Your Grace, the water is ready.”

Without replying, he merely nodded slightly, not taking his eyes off the paper.

Chloe could only wait.

Yesterday, she had been scolded for leaving to fetch clothes without holding a towel ready.

After all, handing over a towel when the master finishes washing was part of an attendant’s duties.

She had even heard that some attendants washed their master’s face themselves.

Compared to that, her situation wasn’t so bad.

The problem was that a master who had never cared about such things had suddenly changed.