Chapter 54
“—!”
Whatever Edmund had planned to say or do vanished completely the moment he stepped inside.
It was still Cassia, the same face he’d seen every day. But he froze anyway.
Fresh from the bath, her skin glowed pink from the heat. Her damp hair clung dark and glossy, like polished chestnuts. She wore only a loose white shirt—baggy enough to cover her, yet somehow it drew his eyes all the more.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the splashing sounds he’d heard from the bath earlier. His whole body locked up with tension.
Cassia tilted her head, puzzled.
“…Why are you just standing there? Aren’t you coming in?”
“I—I am!”
Edmund ducked his head, staring at the floor as he crab-walked awkwardly inside.
He’d expected the nanny to be there too, but Cassia was alone.
Wait. So it’s just the two of us…?
That thought alone made him painfully aware of the situation.
Then Cassia said something that nearly made him leap out of his skin.
“Oh, right. It’s your turn to bathe now, isn’t it?”
“W-what?!”
Her cheeks were still pink, her hair wrapped in a towel, and yet her casual tone hit him harder than any spell.
I—I’m not ready for this…!
But before his mind could spin further, Cassia smacked him back to reality.
“The maid already refreshed the hot water. Hurry up and wash.”
“O-okay!”
Edmund wanted to bury himself. What had he even been thinking? Thank god he hadn’t said it out loud—he’d have wanted to bite his tongue and die on the spot.
He dashed behind the screen, trying to collect himself.
“By the way,” he asked, “why are you alone? Where’s the nanny?”
“Oh, she went to drop off laundry with the inn staff. Hand me your clothes too—I’ll send them with her.”
“M-my clothes?”
“Of course. What’s the point of washing yourself and then putting dirty clothes back on?”
“…R-right.”
Perfectly reasonable words. He knew that. So why was he so flustered, his face burning, his voice tripping?
He stripped off his grimy outfit, passed it over the screen.
Then Cassia’s voice came, cheerfully oblivious:
“Want me to scrub your back?”
“NO! I can do it myself!!”
Practically fleeing, Edmund dunked himself in the tub. From outside came Cassia’s giggles.
He sank to his nose in the steaming water.
It’s the heat. That’s why my face is red. Just the heat.
Definitely not for any other reason.
And yet, another thought crept in.
Does Cassia… still just see me as a kid brother?
She was too casual, too unbothered. Who offers to scrub someone’s back like it’s nothing? She’d said it without a shred of awkwardness. Meanwhile, he’d practically bolted when he heard she was bathing.
From outside the screen, her voice carried in, nagging gently:
“Careful with your hair—don’t let the dye wash out.”
“Willace said it’s fine. It’s magic dye. It’ll fade on its own with time.”
“Oh, good. Don’t forget behind your ears!”
“I know.”
…She definitely thought of him as a child. That was clear. And the more obvious it became, the more it rankled.
***
When Edmund emerged, Cassia’s eyes went wide.
“Wow. You’re… really pretty, Edmund.”
His brows knitted instantly.
“Stop with the nonsense.”
“I’m not! I’m serious.”
Freshly washed, his pale cheeks had a healthy blush, his black-dyed hair shone sleek and clean. He looked far better than he had back at the estate—healthier, lighter, freer.
No wonder. He’s finally escaped that prison he lived in for seven years.
Cassia smiled warmly.
“Honestly, you look even better than usual. I’d say… handsome, even.”
“…That’s the right word,” Edmund muttered.
“Fine, fine. Handsome it is. Our Edmund, very handsome.”
She nearly reached out to ruffle his hair out of habit but stopped herself just in time. Boys his age hated being treated like children.
Still, one thing bugged her.
“Your hair’s a mess though.”
Back when they faked their deaths, everyone had cut their hair. Cassia had chopped hers short, and Edmund—who’d already had shorter hair—ended up with the worst of it, uneven and jagged.
He grumbled, “You’re one to talk. You cut off the most.”
“True, but mine was nothing special. Yours is… well, it used to be beautiful.”
His silver hair, now dyed, had always been dazzling, like powdered gems on ice. To see it hacked unevenly was a crime.
Cassia picked up a pair of scissors she’d borrowed from the inn.
“Want me to fix it for you?”
Edmund stared, suspicious.
“You?”
“How insulting! I’ve cut hair loads of times!”
She almost bit her tongue. Oops. That was back at the orphanage…
She quickly patched it over.
“Uh, I mean, the servants’ kids. I was close with them.”
Edmund’s expression turned complicated.
“…So you grew up more with the servants than with your family?”
“Well… yeah, sort of.”
She couldn’t exactly deny it—not with Cassia’s own memories backing it up.
Edmund’s face darkened. Had she been treated like an unwanted stray all her life?
He clenched his jaw, then silently sat down and let her cut.
And to his shock—
“…Incredible.”
The mirror showed a neat, clean haircut, like something from a real barber.
Cassia smirked proudly.
“See? I told you I was good.”
Edmund nodded, but inside, his anger burned.
So it’s true. She was raised like some cast-off child, ignored by her so-called noble family.
And they’d even sold her off to his treacherous uncle.
When I reclaim my title, the Florence family will answer for this too.
Meanwhile, Cassia hummed happily to herself, trimming her own uneven hair.
Two people, sitting side by side—each lost in completely different thoughts.
A perfect picture of two people dreaming opposite dreams.
