Chapter 31.1
Outside the window, the sky is a clear blue. The fluffy and soft clouds in its midst resemble floating cotton candy.
I faintly hear the rustling of leaves as they brush against the trees midfall, as well as the little birds’ lovely chirps.
Different from the intense beams of sunlight in the summer, the sunlight of autumn penetrates the window, softly illuminating the entire room.
Morning has arrived.
Before my eyes is an incredibly calming and refreshing morning scenery. It resembles a scene from this movie I watched a long time ago.
However, my heart is neither calm nor refreshed at all.
Because I’m… currently naked.
I remember being in a similar situation before. And not just once either. I count how many times I’ve experienced this… And I grow shocked.
I shouldn’t have counted. Seriously, why did I do that? I’m such an idiot.
I don’t have to know how many times I’ve woken up naked like this!
Hey, wait a minute. I’ve woken up naked that many times? Why? How? How did it become like this?
…It’s obviously because Alfred keeps taking my clothes off in bed! Wait, isn’t he doing that a bit too often then?!
And last night, he once again stripped me of my clothes, causing me to wake up in this irritatingly naked state… with only the bed quilt to cover my body with.
There’s one more thing too.
I notice something. Something I’ve also noticed in all the previous instances… And it makes me wish I can hide somewhere and just disappear.
But even if I want to hide my body from view, I only have a quilt on hand right now. So I make do and bring it over my head, curling my body to make myself smaller and fit within the quilt so that I can cover myself from head to toe.
Damn it.
My skin is very clean and dry!
No part of me feels wet or even the least bit sticky.
Even if I don’t thoroughly check my body, I can tell just from how my body feels. Alfred has… cleaned me very thoroughly. He may tend to be tactless, but he’s diligent and not sloppy, to my surprise. He’s also punctual and has strong work ethics.
Ugh, I feel like he’s seen too much. This feels so embarrassing.
But… there is one thing that’s different from the previous times. Not that it makes much of a difference, just to be clear.
I can’t get up from the bed!!
It’s my own body, but I can’t seem to muster the strength to lift myself from the bed. Everything feels so heavy.
It’s like my body’s reminding me about the bad things that happened yesterday. Then my brain follows suit and goes into overdrive, replaying everything that transpired. But I force myself to clear those thoughts at once.
Stop it. Don’t think about it!
It’s game over the moment I think about last night again. The end. Don’t think about what happened last night. DO NOT. Not about his warmth, his hot hands gliding across my skin, his rough breathing… Ahhhh, stop!
My brain keeps trying to push itself hard/to its limits, but please just take a rest! Forcefully, I relax, calm my heart down, and compose myself. Just after I let out a sigh, I hear the door open.
I stiffen in surprise. With my entire body still buried within the quilt, I strain my ears toward the source of the sound.
Quiet footsteps slowly approach me before stopping just right beside me.
As I hold my breath, I hear the sound of someone setting something down onto the desk, as well the sound of porcelain lightly clinking against each other.
Following that, I can feel someone’s gaze focused on me.
Still holding my breath, I try to track the other person’s movements, but they don’t make any noticeable movements or sounds.
Unable to stand being unaware of the situation, I stick out half of my face from the quilt.
I quickly scan the room.
A wooden tray sits on the desk beside the bed. On the tray are a steaming clay pot, a spoon, a yellow fruit that looks like a pear, and a cup of water.
Aside from those, just like what I expected, the person standing next to the desk is… that crazy tall guy whose blond hair appears to glimmer in the morning sun.
Why’s he the only tall one between us? This is really unfair.
Probably noticing my gaze, Alfred turns around and lowers his head toward me. He breaks into a bright smile, sky-blue eyes squinting in happiness, then says, “Good morning, Lian.”
He has a refreshing aura, just like today’s morning scenery.
I shoot him a glare, gaze filled with silent complaints, before responding in a soft voice, “Good morning.”
…Greetings are important, okay?
Grandpa firmly taught me to always reply to everyone’s greetings. It’s basic manners. He used to tell me that if I’m polite to others, they will be polite to me too. In short, that’s one of the basics of communication. I think the same way too. It’s just that…
There’s a lot of things I want to say to this guy with such a bright smile on his face. But, I think there’s a particular matter that I need to tell him before all else… So with a dignified and solemn bearing, I try exhibiting my maturity as someone who’s mentally an adult and older than him. “Alfred,” I say.
“What is it?”
“Listen well. I’m just a normal person. I only have average stamina. I’m different from you with your crazy stamina, okay?! You’re too abnormal! Not average at all! Really…”
Doing it until I fell unconscious is just too cruel!!!
Even if I just count the number of times we did it back when my mind was still lucid… I think it already totaled to three times.
Then after that… My consciousness has gone hazy. My mind seems to have collapsed by that point, so my memories after those three times are pretty vague.
Actually… I don’t really remember anything about what happened after that. However, when I woke up earlier, my body felt very sluggish. It still is right now. My hands and feet also feel boneless. And even though I just woke up, I feel tired. I haven’t regained any energy and stamina at all.
Isn’t this strange? Isn’t this too cruel?
My voice has also become hoarse. And the cause of that… I shut my mind down before my brain starts being proactive again.
There’s my waist too, which feels like it’s turned into lead. I just feel sluggish all over. And I’m still sleepy.
This insolent brat, the cause of my completely messed-up state, raises an eyebrow. He then opens the lid of the clay pot, making me wonder whether he even listened to what I said or not.
As the steam rises from the pot, the sweet scent of warm milk drifts into my nostrils.
I slightly raise my head and peek into the clay pot. It’s thin rice porridge with milk, beans, and wheat.
…One of my favorite dishes.
The added honey, butter, and small amounts of spices mixes with the porridge exquisitely well, providing the porridge a subtle flavor.
It’s one of Marie’s specialty dishes. The porridge is also very popular with the kids.
It’s so delicious that I even asked for the recipe, which she agreed to. She even gave me permission to teach other people how to make it, so I plan to share it to the chefs at a suitable time. After that, I can eat the porridge at any time I want!
“Can you eat?” asks Alfred.
Right after that, my stomach growls as though in response to his question.
My stomach… Please look at the situation first before growling. I know that I’m very hungry now, but…
“…Yes.”
Whenever I’m able to eat, I will take the chance and eat a proper meal. It’s the inviolable rule to survive the battlefield. Grandpa and the leading actor of that historical drama he often watched (I forgot the name) also said so, and I agree with them.
For some reason, Alfred’s shoulders are shaking.
Hey, what’s he laughing about? What’s there to laugh at, huh?
He grows closer, still in chuckles, and easily takes me into his arms since I’m like a mummy now with how wrapped up I am. Then he sits on the bed and places me on his lap. Takes the spoon and scoops some porridge… And of all the things he can do, he brings it to my mouth.
What is this brat trying to do?
I’m already embarrassed enough sitting on his lap like this, but he just had to do something even more embarrassing! I don’t need to be fed! I’m not a child!