Chapter 11 Socially Awkward?

“Stretch your legs out more.”

“…Excuse me, Sir Arsen.”

Lydia pulled her legs back toward her body. You used to be such a conservative person, why have you suddenly become so open-minded?

Lydia was extremely perplexed.

“Are you really going to massage my legs?”

Arms would be one thing, but legs?

“Yes.”

Arsen sat right down on the edge of the bed.

“Don’t think strange thoughts.”

“I, I, I wasn’t thinking anything strange?!”

Lydia felt wronged at suddenly being accused of having inappropriate thoughts. The strange one wasn’t Lydia but Arsen. Something was off, though she couldn’t quite pinpoint what.

The Arsen she knew was someone who had wrapped her tightly in blankets, saying it was inappropriate to interrogate someone in nightclothes. Not someone who would sit on her bed offering to massage her legs.

“This is simply a medical procedure. As Kedrick said, if we don’t loosen your muscles, you’ll be in more pain tomorrow. Do you want to appear limping in front of the Count’s proxy?”

Shake shake. Lydia shook her head.

“Then stretch your legs this way.”

Unable to refute Arsen’s logic, Lydia felt manipulated yet still extended her legs toward him as if entranced.

Lydia’s slender ankle was engulfed by Arsen’s hand with room to spare.

She walks around just fine on these twig-like ankles.

During training or multi-day expeditions, soldiers would sometimes get cramps or complain of muscle pain, leaving them unable to move.

Since calling a physician wasn’t always feasible, everyone in the Black Wolf Knight Order learned basic first aid and muscle massage techniques.

Arsen had learned the same way and had performed massages on many others.

‘But their legs were never this delicate.’

That was precisely the problem. Lydia’s ankles were too thin. Her calves were no different.

Arsen had no idea how much pressure to apply, fearing that even slight force might break them.

As a result, what he was doing could hardly be called a massage. If it needed a name, “grabbing and releasing a leg” would be more accurate.

“Sir Arsen.”

At first, Lydia felt her mouth go dry from the strange sensation of Arsen’s hands on her ankle.

But watching him merely grasp and release her leg after promising a massage, she strongly felt something was wrong.

“If you massage this gently, my muscles won’t loosen even if you do it all day.”

“May I apply more pressure?”

“Of course. Obviously. Right now you’re just resting your hands on my legs.”

Encouraged by Lydia’s words, Arsen applied slightly more pressure to her ankle. Literally just a tiny bit more.

When Lydia let out an exasperated sigh, Arsen furrowed his brows.

“I’m afraid it might break if I apply even a little pressure.”

“Human legs don’t break that easily.”

“But your legs are too……”

Beyond being thin, they were soft and supple. Where were the muscles? Were there even bones?

“Too what?”

“Too different from Kedrick’s legs.”

“Is that supposed to be a proper comparison?”

Was he comparing her legs to Kedrick’s because he had no other reference?

“Sir Kedrick trains every day.”

“Mallan’s legs aren’t like this either.”

Well, of course not. Although Mallan wasn’t a knight, he spent far more time walking than Lydia.

“With legs like these, it’s a wonder your muscles aren’t more knotted after kicking potato boxes. No, it’s fortunate they didn’t break. From now on, have someone else do such things.”

With limbs this frail, no wonder carrying you feels like carrying nothing. You seem to eat well, but where does it all go?

“In the future, don’t use pain as a signal.”

“Why not? I should be able to pretend to feel dizzy and naturally fall into your arms!”

Preventing her from using time-honored, traditional tactics that were obviously ploys.

Lydia had planned to fall into Arsen’s arms that way in a place with many onlookers.

Then someone perceptive or experienced with such tactics would quickly notice and mock Lydia’s behavior:

‘My goodness, that priestess is making moves on our Sir Arsen. Such an obvious ploy is truly inappropriate.’

This would naturally spread rumors that Lydia was pursuing Arsen, which would reach the ears of the Emperor’s men. That was the plan.

Why forbid such an excellent method?

“I can’t be certain whether you’re truly in pain or not, so no.”

“But I give you signals, I give you signals, every time!”

“Even with signals, it’s not acceptable. I cannot trust your judgment.”

Can’t trust my judgment? What judgment exactly?

Lydia was so dumbfounded she couldn’t immediately question him.

“Just today, you failed to properly judge whether you were in pain and didn’t give a signal. From now on, if you claim to be in pain, I’ll verify it myself regardless of your signal.”

“Are you a physician now?”

In truth, Lydia already had several strategies planned that involved pretending to be ill to make advances.

Feigning illness had been quite effective with Richard too. At least he would look at her face once when she claimed to be sick.

Well, that aside, the point was that it was an effective tactic. And being such a classic, widely-known approach made it very suitable for Lydia and Arsen’s situation.

But Lydia ultimately failed to convince Arsen. Thus, fifteen carefully crafted strategies involving exaggerated ailments and coquettish behaviors were discarded.

“I worked so hard on those.”

“We can devise new strategies.”

“Aren’t you being too harsh when you’re not the one who has to come up with them, Sir?”

Lydia glared at Arsen with narrowed eyes, but when he remained completely unfazed, she just flopped back onto the bed.

“We can’t communicate, we just can’t. How are we supposed to work together on this plan when we can’t even communicate?”

“I think we communicate quite well.”

This! This was exactly where communication completely broke down, Lydia wanted to shout.

But realizing it would only waste her energy, she just sighed, “Ehh.”

Meanwhile, Lydia began devising new strategies since feigning illness was off the table.

There were typical approaches like persistently asking to dine together, have tea together, or go on picnics.

Moving further to more proactive tactics, there was subtly touching his arm, removing something supposedly stuck on his face, and other similar physical contact that might work.

And also……

As she pondered strategies, Lydia’s muscles gradually relaxed, and unable to resist the comfort, she drifted off to sleep.

“……Ha.”

Arsen let out a small laugh as he looked at Lydia, who had fallen into a deep sleep while he was massaging her legs.

It was good that she looked comfortable, but wasn’t she being too careless?

Then again, they were the only two in this room. Was it her trust in him, or did she not even see him as a man?

Arsen clicked his tongue briefly. Not at Lydia, but at himself.

At one point, he hadn’t wanted to break her trust in him, yet today he felt disappointed that she trusted him enough to fall asleep.

His inconsistent feelings were absurd. He couldn’t understand himself.

It was bewildering, but not entirely unpleasant. It’s strange that being swayed this way and that didn’t feel bad.

But was this really acceptable?

Suddenly, fear that he had pushed aside rose up.

Such feelings that were neither particularly good nor bad were a luxury in his life.

He had brought Lydia to the borderlands solely to monitor her, but he had strayed far from his original purpose.

How did it come to this?

Unlike Lydia who slept soundly, Arsen couldn’t fall asleep even after leaving her room, not until daybreak.

* * *

Luzan David was the only retainer of the Wonde family. He was a nobleman without land or title who had attached himself to Count Wonde’s territory and luckily caught the Count’s eye, becoming his proxy.

Count Wonde rarely visited his territory, and neither did his children. In the Count’s absence, Luzan David could reign like a king.

This would have been impossible had there been other retainers, but the Count didn’t bring in anyone else.

In short, Luzan David was an extremely fortunate man. Until he met Lydia.

“There are many starving people in the borderlands, and as a priestess, I wanted to help them, but your merchants aren’t cooperating.”

“Miss, I can’t personally monitor every merchant—”

“Not ‘Miss,’ but ‘Priestess.’ Address me properly.”

“Yes, Mi—, I mean, Priestess.”

Though he appeared submissive at first glance, Luzan was making the same mistake as the merchants yesterday.

“Priestess, while I manage the territory, how can I possibly monitor every single transaction? Ah, that’s not to say I bear no responsibility.”

“And?”

“I summoned all those merchant fellows yesterday and gave them a thorough scolding. As an apology, they’ll offer you prices reduced by one silver coin from the regular price. They’ll deliver everything to the river, and I’ll cover the dock usage fees and boat fare as well.”

He thought she was a naive child who grew up pampered and sheltered, and assumed that appeasing her with some sweet talk and a small gift would be enough to improve her mood.

“Also, I’ve prepared a gift for you, Priestess—”

But he was sorely mistaken. In the past, when Lydia was truly immature, she showed no mercy when seeking revenge for perceived slights.

How merciless was she? She had once attempted to poison Richard’s lover when he abandoned her.

And now he thought he could appease her by selling grain at regular price and offering a small gift?

“Sir Luzan.”

Lydia interrupted Luzan’s words, tapping her fingers on the armrest of her chair. Tap, tap, tap.

An ominous silence fell.

“Do you know what gift I’d like?”

“If you have something in mind, please just say the word.”

“Really? Even if it’s your head?”

“P-pardon?”

Luzan was startled by Lydia’s statement and looked at Arsen standing behind her. However, Arsen hadn’t been briefed about this matter either.

Arsen was equally surprised by her demand for Luzan’s head, so when Luzan looked at him with a pleading expression, there was nothing he could do.

Even if he could help, he wouldn’t.

“You must think I’m a fool.”

“Not at all.”

“If not, then tell me, how did you punish those merchants who tried to cheat me yesterday? Did you cut off their arms? Or did you confiscate their property and make them slaves?”