Chapter 18
Freya, who was gradually sinking, desperately clung to the edge of the tub with both arms.
This was her first time bathing like this, so she could only flail helplessly.
“Please… help me a little.”
She called out to the woman nearby, but the woman pretended not to hear and hurried out.
“Oh dear, I forgot something outside.”
Left alone, Freya tried using her hands, but her injuries prevented her from moving properly.
“…Hero!”
Suddenly, Hero entered the small bathing tent.
Two women who had been chattering nearby screamed.
“Hero, do you need something?”
The two women, who had been talking far off, pretended to help Freya the moment they saw Hero.
From behind the curtain, Hero coughed and spoke.
“Freya, are you alright?”
Freya glanced warily at his shadow, wondering what he was doing.
“Yes, of course.”
“Good. Then I’ll ask you a few questions.”
He began explaining the soap’s ingredients: rose flowers, oils, extracts—words she didn’t fully understand.
“Do you smell the roses?”
“Well… maybe a little…”
When she answered, Hero pulled out a notebook and started writing.
Is this really his invention?
Hero continued asking annoying questions.
With the heat of the water and exhaustion, her eyelids grew heavier.
I feel like my body and mind are melting.
“Freya, you’re going to slip like that.”
“…”
Hero’s gentle voice sounded far away, but she didn’t care.
She felt strength draining from her limbs.
“This shouldn’t happen…”
But her body refused to obey, and she sank beneath the water in the wooden tub.
* * *
“Hero, have you completely lost your mind?”
“I don’t know why you’re so angry.”
Lucius returned from a reconnaissance after reports of suspicious movements at the border since dawn.
When he saw Hero’s suspicious smile, irritation rose in him.
As expected, when he entered his connected bedroom, he found someone lying on his bed.
Hero followed behind, barely holding back his laughter.
“Hero, explain this.”
“Isn’t this the girl who saved you? She deserves at least this much hospitality.”
“Why are you…!”
“She was wearing blood-soaked clothes. If you had seen her, you would’ve cried.”
“Hero, stop this nonsense.”
“But Your Highness, I find this situation extremely amusing.”
“Hero, get out. I don’t want to see you for a while.”
“Oh? Do you want to keep that anger all to yourself?”
Hero kept provoking Lucius until he finally left.
Freya, lying on the soft bed, woke to the sound of their argument.
Her body felt like it was floating in clouds, so she hated opening her eyes.
A hot bath was truly dangerous.
It would be hilarious if I dunked Archer in one.
Imagining Archer flailing in the tub made her chuckle.
Who’s arguing like that?
She wanted to sleep more, but the noise disturbed her.
Fully awake now, she moved her fingers.
As blood flowed back into her body, her mind began working quickly.
The bath wasn’t a dream!
She touched her body and felt smooth fabric.
“These aren’t my clothes!”
She sat up abruptly and saw a man glaring at her fiercely.
Her vision was still blurry from just waking up, but she felt a chill pierce her skin.
“Now that you’ve regained consciousness, can you get off my bed?”
She knew Lucius’s voice well.
“Your… bed?”
Oh my God, how did I end up in His Highness’s bed…?
Freya jumped off the bed in reflex to his voice, nearly falling.
“Ah—ah.”
But her body hadn’t regained its strength yet, so her legs buckled.
She grabbed something solid in front of her with both arms.
“…”
It was the man’s broad, firm shoulder.
Her heartbeat quickened at the familiar pleasant scent.
“This is… extremely embarrassing…”
A low, enchanting voice murmured in her ear.
“Your Highness, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
Her face flushed with shame; it looked as if she had attacked him.
Her hands touching him felt as hot as if she had grabbed a boiling pot.
She pulled away quickly, coughing repeatedly as she stood straight.
“I’ve heard that excuse many times.”
Lucius tossed his blond hair irritably, as if annoyed.
“You were looking for me…”
Lucius finally looked at her properly.
Her flushed cheeks, tightly pressed lips from tension, and wary green eyes.
But something was different.
The woman wearing his clothes was no longer the usual messy, dirty mess.
Her neatly arranged black hair swayed at her shoulders—why did his heart race?
A strange feeling…
His robe, which reached her knees, covered her ankles like a dress.
It was slightly open, revealing her shoulder.
He couldn’t look away and stared at her intently.
“Ah, these clothes… Hero probably lent them to me. He said my clothes were full of germs and should be burned.”
Freya trembled as she looked at Lucius’s angry face.
If she could turn back time, she would have ignored the blood-covered Lucius and run away.
“…Hero?”
Lucius spoke sharply.
She feared him like the angel of death, yet she mentioned Hero’s name with a relaxed expression.
Am I not more popular than Hero?
Irritation surged, and he frowned.
“I met him for the first time today, but we work in the same field, so we got along.”
“…Same field?”
Lucius wondered since when the empire’s great mage had been on the same level as a servant girl.
Hero’s earlier behavior annoyed him even more.
Does Hero like this girl?
Hero, the great mage who detested people and spent his days in his tent, had helped this girl bathe and change clothes.
Does Hero prefer girls who look like boys?
Lucius sank into thought, clouds gathering on his face.
He hated how complicated his mind had become over such matters.
Freya continued saying irritating things.
“He was very kind…”
She suddenly stopped, because Lucius’s face looked ready to explode with anger.
“If there’s nothing more, may I go? Archer is waiting for me.”
Lucius realized that her earlier admiration had been an illusion.
The more they talked, the clearer it became.
Damn it, what am I doing?
When he realized she wanted to leave, he wanted to hold her back.
He had to say something.
“Alright then—what’s your name?”
Freya trembled when the prince asked for her name.
Why does the prince care about my name?
She wet her lips and whispered.
“I’m Freya.”
“Very well, Freya. It seems you’re quite popular among men.”
When Lucius spoke sarcastically, Freya raised her head.
What does he mean? Me, popular?
She didn’t understand, so she lifted her head fully and met his deep blue eyes.
Was it admiration or contempt? She couldn’t tell.
Freya decided to correct the misunderstanding.
She didn’t care about herself, but she didn’t want Archer to be misunderstood.
“Your Highness, Archer is my—”
“Enough! Do you think I’m interested in that?”
Lucius cut her off sharply.
He knew who Archer was—a brave warrior of unknown origin.
He had heard this girl lived in his tent.
In these turbulent times, it wasn’t unusual for knights and mercenaries to share their tents with boys or girls.
But imagining this thin, dark-haired girl beside a bearded man irritated him for no reason.
“That’s right—you were there.”
Lucius took a dagger from his waist and toyed with it as he spoke.
“Here comes the main topic.”
Freya sighed tensely, facing the strange prince.
He got angry, interrupted, and spoke cryptically.
“I wasn’t just ‘there’—I saved you.”
Freya frowned at the scowling Lucius, but she was finally waiting for her reward.
“If this ends here, I can go back!”
Freya’s gloomy face suddenly brightened.
