Chapter 43: The Count

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In an antiquated and simple study, a young man with stern features bent over his desk, writing diligently. His slightly curly black hair was naturally fluffy and had been combed to a slight shine.

“Count.”

The young woman standing beside the desk reported her work to the man with a serious expression, speaking in a methodical manner.

“Regarding the local plague issue, people everywhere are saying it’s divine punishment from the Goddess of Sin. We’ve reached an agreement with the Church to distribute indulgences for free to calm the emotions of the disaster victims, while cooperating with the Church knights to swiftly investigate and deal with those spreading such rumors.”

The man dipped his quill pen in ink and asked without looking up: “What about the disposal of the bodies?”

“I’ve mobilized the city garrison, it’s already being done.”

“Mm.”

The woman’s answer seemed to satisfy him. The man nodded slightly and tapped his pen tip on the spread paper twice. Just when the woman thought he was going to continue writing, he set down his pen.

He crumpled up the half-written letter and casually tossed it on the desk, then gave the woman a casual glance.

“Those people spreading rumors — kill them all, don’t leave a single one.”

The woman’s hand trembled slightly.

“You must handle this well. Stay in close contact with the Church people, don’t let Edward’s side have a chance to interfere.”

“…Understood.” The woman nodded, brushing back her wine-red hair as if to hide her emotions. “There’s another matter, there are reports that some lords have begun arbitrarily increasing local taxes from civilians under the pretense of disaster relief. This practice has already brought major security risks to the local area.”

The man frowned.

“Who are these people? Compile a list of names for me.”

“Yes.”

At this point, the woman suddenly showed a hesitant expression, and after a while spoke up: “Count…”

“What is it? Speak.”

“I’ve received news that those masked assassins seem to have appeared near Winter City recently. Count, perhaps you should wait a while longer…”

The man gave a cold smile.

“It’s fine, they’re just a bunch of skulking rats, no need for concern. I’ve delayed here far too long already, I must depart tomorrow.”

“But Count, they’re clearly targeting you.”

The woman looked at the black-haired man sitting steadily at his desk, worry creeping into her brow.

“Since I cannot accompany you on your return journey, please be sure to bring more guards.”

The man raised his hand to lightly massage his temples, looking at the woman with an indifferent expression.

“Arno, the situation here is urgent, and I wouldn’t feel at ease leaving it to others, which is why I must keep you here. As for those guards, leave half for your use, and I’ll take the other half.”

“But…”

“No buts. Execute the order.”

“…Yes.”

The woman bit her lip.

“Count, are you in such a hurry to return to Shanter Castle because something happened there…?”

“No.”

The man waved his hand.

He pulled his lips into a slight smile, showing a warmth the woman had never seen before.

“My sister has returned.”

…………

At noon.

Winter City, Shanter Castle.

In a room with tightly drawn curtains, flickering candlelight cast a red glow on what looked like torture instruments — medical equipment — on the table.

I sat on the white small bed, wringing my little hands between my legs, trying to use these small movements to distract myself and ease my nervousness.

Then I hunched up slightly, my dark eyes darting around everywhere, not daring to look at Madam Catherine standing in front of me.

That morning’s spirited battle with the Duke had gotten completely carried away towards the end, as I had given my body over to battle instinct and therefore used quite a few dangerous moves. Scrapes were unavoidable.

The fight had continued on and off until the sun was high overhead, only forced to stop when our stomachs started growling.

By then, Madam Catherine’s expression was already quite unpleasant.

The Duke, sensing the situation wasn’t good, immediately made excuses and fled to the Central Workshop without even eating lunch, leaving me alone to face the black-faced Madam with nowhere to escape.

Then I was brought to the medical room on the castle’s second floor, where the two doctors originally there were chased out. She then drew the curtains and closed the door, looking at me expressionlessly.

Obviously, she was still angry.

“Take off your clothes.”

After saying this, the Madam paid me no more attention and walked to a somewhat old cabinet nearby.

The cabinet contained some medicine bottles and unnamed medicinal materials. She opened one of its doors and began searching inside.

“Ma-Madam, there’s no need…”

“Hurry up, don’t make me do it myself.”

I immediately fell silent as a cicada, timidly lowering my head to look at the robe I was wearing.

The ice shards that had stuck to the robe had melted into water and mixed with dust to become mud. By now it was terribly dirty, with some places frayed and threads coming loose, and even large holes torn in the knees of the pants.

I took it off and placed it beside the bed, hugging my arms and curling up, underneath… I wasn’t wearing anything.

Of course, it wasn’t because this world didn’t have brassieres, corsets and such women’s items. Mainly because considering the vigorous activity planned for this morning, wearing a brassiere would be inconvenient. Not only would it restrict movement, but if the straps broke from too much force, wouldn’t that be utterly embarrassing?

Besides, I had been so sleepy in the morning I almost forgot to put on pants, so naturally forgot about the brassiere… When Madam Catherine handed me clothes, she didn’t remind me either… And I’m a manly man, showing off muscular pecs with a bare chest is the right way, how could I always wear a brassiere?

It’s definitely not because wearing one or not makes no difference, definitely not!

I lowered my head, looking at those delicate little things on my chest, pouting somewhat sulkily.

Anyway, they’ll grow bigger in the future.

“What are you looking at? Want them to grow quickly?”

The Madam took out a bottle of unknown green liquid from the cabinet, along with some gauze and bandages. When she turned back she happened to catch my little movement.

“…Don’t want to.”

“Don’t all girls your age think that way?”

“I don’t.”

The Madam sat down beside me and gently pressed her finger against my right shoulder. On the skin as delicate as congealed cream was a very eye-catching purple bruise.

“Does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t…”

“Stop fibbing.”

The Madam poured some of the green liquid onto the bandage, dipped her finger in a bit, and gently applied it to the wound.

“Your Uncle Duke doesn’t know his own strength, I’m sorry, I’ll teach him a lesson when he returns.”

“It’s fine, I wanted… this.”

Actually if left alone, it would heal by tomorrow.

“Can we not do this tomorrow?”

“Um, Madam…”

“Alright alright, we’ll do as you wish.”

“Thank you.”

“Take off your pants too, let me see if you’re injured anywhere else.”

The Madam put down the medicine bottle and bandages, reached for my waistband as if to pull it down. I was startled and quickly held it tight with both hands, looking at her with a pleading expression.

“Madam, there aren’t any!”

But suddenly realized she was staring intently at my chest.

That direct gaze made me incredibly shy, my cheeks immediately heating up.

I raised my hand slightly to cover myself.

“Madam…”

What’s wrong with her, suddenly becoming such a female hooligan makes me so nervous.

“Let me massage your chest?”

“Eh?”

“I learned some techniques from the palace physicians before, it can help them grow faster.”

“Really?”

“Put your arms down.”

“Still… better not.”

“Be good.”

I shook my head like a rattle drum.

Just then, there was suddenly a knock at the door outside.

“Madam, something has happened outside, please come take a look.”

The Madam frowned upon hearing this.

“What is it?”

“Young Master Parsifal has gotten into a conflict with a guest.”

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