* * *
As I rode toward it, Serta, who had been waiting at the entrance, took hold of my reins.
“Are you all right, Tower Master?”
“It was nothing.”
Damn. The moment I spoke, my gauge dropped slightly again.
I must have sounded too composed. If this continued, I’d be cutting it close.
A wave of dizziness crept up the back of my neck, sending a chill through my body.
I felt my heart sink.
Times like this, it was best to stay still.
Without another word, I let Serta lead my horse into the manor.
Inside the hall, my knights, the lord’s knights, and the visibly anxious lord himself were waiting.
As Ateol and I dismounted and entered, they all knelt in unison.
I glanced at Ateol.
It was best for me to remain silent, so my look conveyed a request—explain on my behalf.
Thankfully, he caught on immediately.
“The creature was a type of mollusk, most likely cephalopodic in nature. It has been dealt with. Retrieve the corpse tomorrow and have the manor’s mages analyze it.”
“T-Thank you! Thank you, Tower Master, Your Highness!”
The lord bowed so deeply that his forehead nearly touched the ground.
[Event Triggered!
Why not praise Ateol?]
Huh?
What’s with this event being so on point?
I had already wanted to credit Ateol for the achievement, but I was hesitant because I didn’t want my gauge to drop.
Taking a step forward, I moved to Ateol’s side and spoke.
“It was the Fourth Prince who dealt with the monster. I’m not one to take credit for someone else’s work.”
“Tower Master?”
“I never knew the Fourth Prince could wield sword energy. It was truly impressive. From now on… I entrust the Empire to you.”
The lord unconsciously raised his head to look at us.
Understandable.
A lot of crucial information had just been revealed in an instant.
[Event Success!
Ateol’s reputation has skyrocketed!]
Good.
Everything was going exactly as planned—elevating Ateol’s image.
People would inevitably link the monster’s appearance to the prophecy.
Even though occasional monster attacks weren’t unusual, people had a tendency to tie everything to the one thing that worried them most.
And now, the Fourth Prince, who had appeared alongside the Tower Master, had eradicated the monster using sword energy—a power rarer than magic itself.
In the Empire, only a handful of people could wield it.
Adding to that, my words: I entrust the Empire to you.
The pressure for the Emperor to abdicate in favor of Ateol would only grow stronger, and his faction would gain momentum.
If this happened a few more times, Ateol ascending the throne would be inevitable.
I idly wondered if another monster might show up soon, when Serta approached.
“Tower Master, it’s late. Shall I escort you to your chambers?”
“I will personally escort the Fourth Prince.”
Bell approached Ateol.
The lord made a fuss, saying he had prepared a room.
Under the pretense of guiding us there, the lord and his subordinates tried to follow along, so I shot Serta a look.
Serta politely refused them and took his place beside me instead. It seemed he already knew the location of the room.
Ateol and I had rooms right next to each other.
Though it was called a “room,” opening the door revealed an entire house—minus a kitchen.
As I stepped inside and headed to the bedroom, Serta gave a slight bow.
“I’ll be in the adjacent room. Call me anytime.”
“Alright.”
After Serta withdrew, leaving me alone, I took off my robe.
My body was still covered in a sticky liquid.
It was a relief that it didn’t smell.
My clothes, drenched in mucus, clung to my body in the exact shape of the tentacles that had wrapped around me, now twisted and dried into a mess.
“It’s a shame I can’t show you a mirror right now.”
“…….”
Just how bad was it?
I hurried to the mirror and nearly fainted in shock.
No wonder Ateol reacted the way he did earlier.
If I weren’t the protagonist but a capture target, this scene would have definitely been illustrated in an R-19 game.
I wasn’t sure if I’d be a desirable capture target, but there’s always someone with a unique taste.
In any case, I looked absolutely wrecked.
Like someone who had just escaped after being ravaged by a tentacle monster.
I needed a bath.
Immediately.
And I needed to burn these clothes.
As I turned toward the bathroom, pale as a sheet, someone knocked on the door.
“Master of the Tower, it’s Serta.”
“……What?”
“His Highness, the Fourth Prince, wishes to speak with you. What should I do?”
He has more to say?
He should’ve said it earlier—I just want to wash up.
Ugh.
Annoyed, I sighed but told him to let Ateol in.
Seeing my own reflection made me briefly consider throwing the filthy robe back on, but Ateol had already seen everything anyway.
As I stood still, lost in thought, Ateol entered through the door Serta opened.
He stopped in place and stared straight at me.
“……What are you looking at?”
“Are you doing this on purpose?”
On purpose?
What did he mean by that?
I didn’t need to ask—his suspicious gaze made it obvious.
It was almost the same look the tentacles had when they slithered over my body.
Not that I wanted to compare the two.
“You showed up before I even had the chance to undress.”
“That’s true. That’s why I’ve come to assist you with your bath.”
“What?”
“I tried washing my hands earlier and figured you’d have trouble doing it alone.”
So the prince himself had come to help me bathe? I looked at him in disbelief. He tilted his head and added casually—
“I already assisted you in bed. What’s a bath in comparison?”
“…….”
Before I could come up with a retort, Ateol scooped me up.
My feet had left the ground more times than I could count today.
Without a chance to struggle, I was carried straight into the bathroom.
The sunken tub was already filled with hot water, steam rising from the surface.
Ateol gazed down at me before starting to remove my clothes with a strangely regretful expression.
‘Why do you look disappointed?!’
“I can’t say I’d enjoy licking a tentacle monster’s fluids, so I suppose I have no choice.”
‘What do you mean, no choice?! What exactly are you planning?!’
Of course, Ateol didn’t hear my internal screaming.
He simply peeled away my damp, clinging clothes as easily as if he were peeling an onion and then lowered me into the tub.
Then, he took off his own clothes.
I found myself staring, entranced.
As each layer came off—his outer coat, his shirt, his pants—his forearms, chest, and thighs, all packed with solid muscle, came into view.
When he ran a hand through his hair and stepped closer, he looked less like a man and more like a marble statue from ancient Greece, come to life.
Feeling pathetically scrawny, I instinctively tried to sink deeper into the water, but it was clear, making my attempt meaningless.
Ateol reached out for a bottle of soap, pouring a generous amount onto a sponge.
“Why are you hiding?”
“I’m not.”
Sure, curling up beside a human sculpture might look like hiding, but it wasn’t on purpose.
Ateol pulled me toward him and, true to his word, began scrubbing my body.
As he lathered the sponge, the mucus quickly washed away, disappearing down the drain.
Once I was mostly clean, his touch subtly changed.
His firm palm glided over my skin, pressing down slightly as it slid.
“……Ah!”
* * *
