Not Even the Smallest Wound
One of them had been kicked repeatedly, leaving their clothes filthy and their entire body covered in livid bruises. The other had taken a direct blow to the face, resulting in a swollen cheek and a split lip. It was a complete disaster.
“Protecting the young miss is our duty.”
Malena’s calm reply left Odeliana covering her face in utter despair.
It wasn’t the indiscriminate violence that frightened her. What she couldn’t bear was her own pathetic weakness—the kind that couldn’t even fight back—and the fact that innocent people had been hurt because of her.
The injured Mathias and Malena were the living proof of that weakness. A master too powerless to protect even a single one of her own people. She really was a fool.
“I’m fine. My clothes are dirty, so I’ll go change. Please tend to his wounds first, Miss. He seems far more seriously hurt than I am.”
Malena rose to her feet with perfect composure. She even took the time to brush off her soiled clothes, as if the brutal kicks had left no mark on her at all.
“…Thank you.”
The quiet words reached her from behind. Malena turned, her expression saying it was nothing worth mentioning.
“I simply did what I’m supposed to do.”
“…”
“So please don’t worry about me. I’ll take my leave first. It seems I’ll need to bring the meal in place of that child.”
Her voice was dry, as if thanks were unnecessary for something so obvious. Yet for all its businesslike tone, it somehow felt warm.
Odeliana watched her retreating back with a complicated feeling until she disappeared from sight. Only then did she become aware of the boy still held in her arms and turned to him.
“Mathias, are you all right?”
Mathias didn’t answer. Instead, he stared fixedly at Odeliana’s swollen cheek.
“…Did that man lay his hands on you, Master?”
Shouldn’t you be more concerned about your own battered face? Odeliana gave an awkward smile and touched the cheek Herman had struck.
“He hit me the moment he burst in. I didn’t have time to dodge.”
In truth, she would have been helpless even if the attacks had come with a delay, but Odeliana stubbornly clung to the idea that she had simply “allowed one hit out of necessity” to preserve her pride. Even now, it was a rather pathetic show of bravado.
“Your injuries are much worse than mine. Why did you jump in and end up like this?”
He had intervened to protect her, so she should have been angry at Herman, yet seeing that handsome face swollen made her heart ache. If only he had an ordinary, unremarkable face like Herman’s, it wouldn’t have bothered her so much. This was nothing short of a national loss.
“Let’s start by applying some medicine.”
Odeliana fetched the medicine box and took out the jar of ointment. But Mathias snatched it away, clearly unconcerned about his own wounds.
“Open your mouth, please.”
“…Huh?”
The moment she questioned him, Mathias’s finger pushed into her mouth without hesitation.
What was happening? The unfamiliar sensation of something invading her mouth left Odeliana stunned. His long finger explored the untouched territory inside, brushing over places no one had ever touched. Everywhere his fingertip went, a stinging pain bloomed alongside a scorching heat.
“The inside of your mouth is completely torn.”
“…”
“I need to apply the medicine.”
His long finger glistened with saliva. Didn’t he find it unpleasant? His touch was bold and persistent as it gently stroked the tender flesh.
She couldn’t even muster the courage to push away the embarrassing caress by telling him to worry about his own injuries instead. Her mind went completely blank, and a wave of shame washed over her—the kind one might feel while rolling naked across a bed.
Mathias opened the stolen jar and scooped out the sticky ointment. One hand cupped her chin, holding it firmly, while the medicine-coated finger slipped between her slightly parted lips once more.
His somewhat dry fingertip touched the wet, delicate flesh. It swept across her neat teeth and caressed skin she had never offered to anyone. The touch seemed careful, yet it was also savage.
The original purpose of applying medicine had long been forgotten. He rummaged through her mouth so softly, yet so unmercifully, that her mind grew hazy for a moment.
“Haa… stop… s-stop it…”
Saliva mixed with blood and medicine trickled from between her parted lips. As she panted with ragged breaths, he gently cradled her and met her eyes.
“Your disciple…”
“…”
“…cannot tolerate even the smallest wound on his Master.”
What should I do?
Mathias paused to steady his breathing. His gaze was fierce and unrelenting, his breath still rough. A raw, primal killing intent rose from his usually neat and refined face. Odeliana recognized the silent question—May I dispose of that bastard right now?—and shook her head. He let out a short sigh.
“You always tell me to endure.”
It sounded almost like a complaint. Beneath the childish whine of Why do you have to complicate everything? lay a faint note of resentment.
“You only ever tell me to hold back.”
“Last time I went crazy and turned everything upside down, didn’t I?”
“Then at least endure only as much as you did then.”
“Enduring also means choosing who is worth enduring for.”
Could throwing away a mere maid be placed on the same line as cutting off the breath of Grüsewald’s eldest son? Setting aside how repulsive Herman was, his life carried no light value. That was why she endured. Retaliating against him would bring far more loss than gain.
“Don’t even think about revenge. He’s not someone we can handle right now.”
“…”
“And who are you to worry about me when you’re the one more badly hurt?”
Odeliana firmly took the jar back. Then she began carefully applying the ointment to his torn cheek. Mathias, who had been obediently letting her tend to him, suddenly caught her hand.
“You have to treat the inside of my mouth too.”
“…Huh?”
He lightly bit her index finger. Then, with an innocent expression, he opened his mouth wide to show her the torn wound inside. Seeing the pool of blood, she was at a loss for words.
He really swung his fist as if he meant to kill him.
If Mathias was in this state, a direct hit from that fist would have meant instant death. That insane bastard—despite hiding his birth, Herman was still his blood brother. Had he truly tried to kill him?
Odeliana looked back and forth between the jar and Mathias’s mouth, then awkwardly scooped ointment onto her finger. A different kind of embarrassment flooded her, quite unlike the situation when her own mouth had been violated moments ago.
After hesitating briefly, she felt a flicker of doubt. Why should she feel embarrassed about simply applying medicine inside his mouth?
In fact, he could have done it himself, but she decided against letting him. What kind of master couldn’t even apply ointment to her own disciple?
Odeliana slid her ointment-covered finger into his mouth and carefully traced the torn wound. It wasn’t as unpleasant or dirty as she had expected. She simply felt sorry that it must hurt.
Mathias stared intently at her face as she applied the medicine with such care. He repeatedly bared his teeth as if to bite, then stopped. Odeliana frowned slightly and glared at him.
“Stay still.”
He laughed out loud and, as if rebelling, bared his teeth again, gently biting her finger without causing pain. Seeing him act like a puppy desperate for attention, Odeliana couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief.
“You really are…”
The heavily tense atmosphere melted away in an instant.
The two of them faced each other, teasing and laughing for a long while. The unpleasant situation that had left them with wounds ended in that unexpectedly cheerful mood.