Knock, knock—

At the sound on the door, Lisha stirred. Before she could even answer, a maid entered the room with a tray in hand, her face twisted in open displeasure.

“What is it?”

When Lisha blinked at her blankly, the maid snapped, her tone sour as if she’d been splashed with filth.

“Can’t you see? I brought your food.”

Of course she could see that. What she didn’t understand was why this maid had brought it herself.

“That’s why I asked.”

Rising to her feet, Lisha stepped forward and took the tray. They weren’t bound by duty, nor were they close. There was no reason this woman should be waiting on her.

As Lisha met her eyes, the maid’s brow furrowed even deeper. Her pride seemed wounded, for she muttered under her breath with a bitter edge.

“Lord Hatan told me to bring it.”

“…Ah.”

“From tomorrow, I’ll leave it at the door. Eat it or don’t.”

Lisha studied the short-haired woman with quiet composure. She was shorter than herself, her build plumper, with sharp eyes that slanted upward in a way that stood out.

“What!”

The maid, who had been snapping since she entered, now glared at her all the more viciously, as if something about Lisha’s stare provoked her.

‘Why is she so angry?’

The thought rose faintly within her, but in truth, the maid didn’t matter. What mattered was Hatan.

Last night, she had been too drowsy, too overwhelmed by the warmth of her first real meal, to make sense of most of his words.

But once she left the gilded chamber and returned to the storage room she had once called hers, the questions began to crowd in.

What did he mean when he said she was his? What use could he possibly find in her? Why feed her food like this? Was she meant to serve him, as she had once served customers at the house? But whom? Would he hurt her again? No—given the warm food and soft bed, that seemed unlikely.

Lisha turned her gaze back to the maid, who was glaring at her as though she might kill her with her eyes, and spoke.

“What does Lord Hatan want from me?”

The maid’s eyes narrowed with scorn. She bit her lip for a moment, as if considering, then let one corner of her mouth curl upward.

“What could the likes of you possibly offer him?”

“That’s true.”

Her ready admission left the maid flustered, her anger boiling over.

“Don’t get the wrong idea! You’re nothing but a beggar—Lord Hatan is only tossing you scraps out of pity!”

“Pity?”

Lisha tilted her head.

“Do you mean something like… benevolence?”

The refined word slipped from her lips, seeming out of place for someone who had lived in a brothel. The maid muttered under her breath.

“Listen to you, using big words.”

With a sharp turn, she spun on her heel. Her face twisted with disgust, as though she could not bear to remain in the same room for another moment.

Bang—!

The door slammed hard enough to shake. Lisha stared at it for a time before whispering softly to herself.

“Pity…”

Why would anyone show her pity?

‘Who knows.’

She shook her head quickly. It didn’t matter.

What mattered was the warm bed, the miracle of three meals a day, and clothes warm enough to endure the desert’s freezing nights.

✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘

“And Lisha?”

“As you ordered, she is taking her meals regularly.”

At Caro’s report, Hatan dropped his gaze back to the papers on his desk. Yet a question from yesterday, still unanswered, tugged at his concentration.

“Is it possible for a person to fall asleep while eating?”

“Yes. It happens when one overeats—blood rushes to the digestive organs to process the food, leaving less for the brain. That imbalance induces drowsiness.”

Hatan was intelligent, but Caro’s mind was sharp to the point of excess, often providing knowledge even he found unexpected.

“So it is possible.”

Hatan’s expression tightened in thought. Caro, delighted by the chance to lecture, continued eagerly.

“It is common in infants.”

“Infants?”

At Caro’s words, Hatan stilled, staring blankly at him.

“Yes. Infants often fall asleep while eating.”

“And adults?”

“…Pardon?”

“What about adults?”

“Well… it isn’t impossible, but…Normally, if someone were that drowsy, they would stop eating and decide to sleep instead. Infants lack that balance between appetite and sleep, so they simply act on instinct.”

Hatan lowered his head, and soon a crooked laugh slipped from his lips.

“Lord Hatan?”

Startled by his master’s sudden laughter, Caro froze. Laughter from Hatan was rarely a good sign.

“Infant. An infant…”

Hatan muttered, still laughing under his breath.

Caro’s unease grew.

“How can such a thing be? She isn’t a child.”

“…Sir?”

“She’s truly unusual.”

Regardless of Caro’s strange look, Hatan pushed aside the dull papers on his desk and gave the woman who had caught his interest his full attention.

“When Lisha has recovered a little more, report to me again. I need to see for myself.”

Caro did not fully understand his master’s intentions, but that was nothing new. All he could do was bow his head and obey.

“I’ll need to confirm it.”

Hatan’s murmur hung in the air as his fingers tapped idly against the desk. Whether he knew it or not, a faint satisfaction was spreading across his face.

✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘

“Lisha is learning at a remarkable pace.”

After several days of overseeing her training, Caro gave his assessment. Hatan, unsurprised, set down the quill he had been holding and cut directly to the heart of the matter.

“When will she be ready to begin work?”

“By the end of this month, I believe.”

“Faster than expected. Have her prepared.”

“…And in what profession shall we disguise her?”

At Caro’s question, Hatan paused in his work and leaned back against the chair.

There were only so many disguises she could assume. Still, Caro had said she learned quickly.

“…Make her a merchant.”

Lisha was not of imperial blood. Her pale skin and black hair proved that.

Although she stood out from the crowd, her appearance was not so unusual as to draw undue attention. In an empire embroiled in perpetual warfare, countless commoners bore faces and features as extraordinary or as ordinary as hers.

For such people, trade was the only way to improve their lives. Though the chance was rare — like searching for a needle in the sand — it remained a possibility.

“As a merchant, her conspicuous looks will be easier to mask.”

Her features weren’t particularly striking, but as always, Caro raised no objection.

“Then I will make the arrangements.”

“From tomorrow night, bring her to the small chamber. It’s time she learned the duties of night service.”

✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦❘༻༺❘✦ ✦❘

When Hatan stepped into the room, Lisha rose to her feet. He set the sword from his hip down upon the table and cast her a sidelong glance.

“Sleepy?”

“Yes.”

Her unhesitating answer gave him pause. This woman was impossible to predict.

“Have you not slept?”

“No.”

With a flick of his hand, he gestured her closer.

“Then?”

She looked at him with that inscrutable expression of hers, impossible to read.

“It’s time to sleep. Why wouldn’t I be?”

For the first time in a long while, Hatan was left without words. She wasn’t wrong. He found no ready rebuttal and could only give a reluctant nod.

“…True enough.”

His hand moved again. Lisha, stifling a small yawn, stood quietly watching as he began to remove his outer garment.

“In times like this, you’re supposed to come and assist.”

Lisha tilted her head at the sudden rebuke.

“Why?”

How far back would he have to start explaining? With a sigh, Hatan shifted, turning fully to face her.

“You used to follow the plum blossoms around, didn’t you?”

At his question, she gave a small nod.

“Then you must have seen.”

“I usually waited outside.”

Hatan raised one brow, studying her. She couldn’t possibly be playing word games with him.

“I recall you being inside most of the time.”

“Every time I was called into a room… that’s when you came.”

At her words, a dry laugh slipped from Hatan. Calling the man who had stormed in and butchered people as though they were vegetables a ‘guest’ was absurd.

“Then you know how the plum blossoms spend their nights?”

“Yes.”

At least he wouldn’t need to burden himself with explaining the relations of men and women to a grown woman. That much was a relief.

“You’ll spend your nights with me, as they did.”

“…Ah.”

He had expected her usual Why? Instead, she only blinked, her eyes fluttering, with no question at all.

Unwilling to waste more words on pointless back-and-forth, Hatan ended the exchange with a gesture toward her.

“Help me undress first.”

At last she stepped closer. A faint, unfamiliar scent drifted toward him.

“Like this?”

Clumsy fingers fumbled at the fastenings of his robe. She had dressed and undressed the plum blossoms before, but never a man. Her touch was uncertain, awkward.

“Yes.”

Nevertheless, Hatan waited patiently.

When he lowered his gaze, he saw the crown of her head above him. Her black, oil-glossed hair rippled like the surface of a river at dawn — deep and dark with a hint of blue.

Hatan stared down at her in silence, momentarily forgetting what he had been about to do.

“All done.”

Her bright voice rang out, like that of a pupil announcing the end of a lesson.

Hatan turned his head slightly, hiding the smile that threatened to curve his lips.

“Lord Hatan?”

“……”

He gave no answer, only turned his head back and took Lisha’s hand. Then he led her toward the bed.

Two shadows stretched across the richly embroidered sheets. Hatan sat first, and Lisha lowered herself beside him.

“Not there.”

“…Pardon?”

His gaze flicked briefly toward his right leg.

“On my thigh.”

“Yes, my lord.”

Looking dazed, Lisha obeyed. She settled onto the firm muscle of his thigh and blinked up at him with eyes like a waiting puppy, ready for his next command.

Those guileless eyes finally broke him. Hatan let out a laugh.

“You’ve never tried to seduce a man, have you?”

Lisha nodded quickly in answer.

Was that really a question to be met with such prompt enthusiasm? A corner of his mouth lifted as he rubbed at his eye, laughter still coloring his voice.

“Put your arms around me.”

He indicated his neck. Her thin arms rested on his shoulders, pulling them together so closely that they could barely see each other’s faces.

Was she trying to amuse him on purpose? Unfazed, Hatan let out a laugh and spoke again.

“Not so close. I want to see your face.”

“Ah.”

She shifted back slightly, and his next order followed.

“Kiss me.”

For a moment she hesitated, then pressed her lips to his cheek with the lightest touch—a fleeting peck, like a bird taking seed.

Hatan burst out in laughter.

Puzzled, Lisha tilted her head, searching for what she had done wrong.

“Longer.”

This time she pressed her lips to his cheek and held them there—perhaps three seconds longer than before.

“Not the cheek.”

“Then… where?”

If he explained each step, the night would never have ended. Instead, Hatan seized the nape of her neck and kissed her.

She jerked back reflexively, but he held her firmly in place. Startled, her lips parted, and his tongue swiftly ensnared them. The harder she tried to pull away, the more he pursued her.

“Mmm—!”

The first to run out of breath was Lisha. At last, she struck against Hatan’s chest with urgent fists, signaling her surrender. Reluctantly, he let her go.

“Puhh—!”

She gasped for air, glaring at him as she caught her breath. A faint sweetness lingered on his lips, reminiscent of the scent of flowers.

“Did you drink wine?”

Still drawing in sharp breaths, Lisha shook her head.

But why did she taste so sweet? Almost as if to confirm, Hatan moved in to claim her lips again—but she tilted her head back, just barely evading him.

“Don’t pull away.”

“…But it makes me too breathless.”

“I’ll let you breathe. Just don’t resist.”

“……”

Hearing his words, she had no more arguments. Leaning forward again, she closed her eyes and pursed her lips faintly in an offering.

Hatan chuckled low in his throat.

“Pay attention—today I’ll guide you. Tomorrow, you’ll lead.”

“Tomorrow… I’ll still be with you, Lord Hatan?”

“Yes.”

Her eyes widened, a peculiar look flickering across her face.

“…Do you dislike it?”

After a pause, she shook her head slowly.

Taking that as his signal, Hatan caught her where she perched on his thigh and flipped her swiftly onto the bed.

Startled by the sudden reversal, her arms tightened instinctively around his neck.

“……”

In that instant, a dizzying rush surged through him. From earlier, a strange haze had been coiling inside him like heat rising from the earth.

“Lord Hatan?”

The moment she spoke his name, the sensation spiked—then just as quickly dissipated.

“……”

He had been working too hard recently and had become worn down by his men’s incompetence. If such sudden distortions of his senses were rising and falling like this, then surely they were being caused by the weight of fatigue pressing down on him.

Convinced of this, Hatan buried his face in the curve of her neck.