With Giselle in the Jjimjilbang
First Prince Arzen is heading for the North.
That single parting line Viola had left behind was tearing through my skull.
"Ah, crap. My head hurts."
Enoch, the brother the Emperor had sent before, was a rigid stickler for the rules. I could always work around him inside the letter of the law. Arzen was a completely different animal.
In Kael's original memories, and from the way the story had gone, the guy was the type who smiled to your face while you never knew what he was cooking up behind your back. On top of that, I had zero idea what he was actually after. I couldn't even rule out the possibility that he was the true mastermind lurking in the shadows.
One thing was certain: unlike Enoch, Arzen wielded real, crushing power. Would the Emperor really say something as casual as, Son, I'm curious what schemes that Kael brat is cooking up. Why don't you go take a look? If that were the case, he would have sent someone else.
There was obviously something going on here. So why the hell was he bothering to travel all the way out to this barren North himself? Had the rumors of me raking in cash with the hot springs made him jealous? Or had he sniffed out my real intentions and decided it was time to take my head?
"Haaah. I'm going insane."
Thoughts kept chaining into more thoughts until my brain felt ready to explode. I needed to cool my head, so I headed downstairs toward the first-floor public bath area for a walk. That was when I witnessed a truly fascinating sight.
"...When did that old man get here?"
Hexion was there. His massive, muscular frame was wrapped only in a towel that barely covered the essentials as he paced awkwardly outside the hot tub. His face was flushed bright red with embarrassment—hardly surprising, considering the territory folk kept sneaking glances at him.
Oh-ho. Perfect timing.
I was already stressed out of my mind. Might as well blow off a little steam.
I sauntered over with a sly grin.
"Hey, old man! What are you doing here? Showing off that body of yours?"
"Hieeek! Y-Your Highness?!"
Hexion nearly jumped out of his skin at my sudden appearance and clutched the towel covering his important bits for dear life.
"N-No! I merely came to inspect the area out of concern for the safety of the territory's people! I have no intention of enjoying a bath in this... this indecent state...!"
"Sure. I'll pretend I believe that."
I cackled and smacked him hard on the back.
"Well, the Knight Commander himself has graced us with a visit, so I ought to treat you properly! First, get in there and soak for about five minutes to loosen up the grime!"
Splash!
"Gyaaaah!! I-It's too hot!!"
"That's how it's supposed to be. Tough it out!"
Five minutes later.
"Alright, out."
"U-Uh?"
"Hey, scrubber! The North's greatest sword is here! Prep the roughest towel you've got!"
"N-No! I'm fine! Aaaargh!"
I forced the thrashing Hexion down onto the scrubbing bed. A burly attendant soon approached, slipped on a green towel mitt, and began vigorously scouring Hexion's back.
"Kraaaaaagh!! My skin!! It feels like my skin is being peeled off!!"
The same Hexion who supposedly never made a sound even when a magic beast's claws tore into him on the battlefield was now squealing like a maiden under a scrubbing towel. I crossed my arms and laughed under my breath at the spectacle.
But the agony didn't last long. The attendant flicked away the thick clumps of dead skin that had rolled off Hexion's back in fat noodles and remarked,
"Goodness, guest. The grime's coming off in noodles. Oh dear, what are we gonna do with you."
"Th-This came out of my body...?!"
"That's right. Even if you wash every day, the old filth stuck deep in the pores only comes out when you scrub it like this."
The North's greatest sword, a man who had prided himself his entire life on living clean under the knight's code, watched his own pride collapse into rubble before the mountain of his own dead skin. Face scarlet with shame, Hexion meekly folded his hands and lay prone.
"...Gently. Please be a little gentler."
"Aw, don't you worry! I'll make a brand-new man out of you!"
About three minutes later—
"Urrghnnn... th-there... a little harder on the shoulder..."
"How is it? Killer, right?"
Hexion couldn't even lift his head. He buried his face in the towel and mumbled,
"Your Highness is... still detestable and unpleasant. B-But this 'scrubbing' technique and the hot spring water... I have no choice but to acknowledge them. I feel as if every last bit of fatigue has melted away."
In the end, even the North's old-school hardass had surrendered to the true power of a Korean-style bathhouse. I smiled in satisfaction, left him there, and walked away.
Before I knew it, the sun was setting outside the windows and evening had arrived. The chaotic rush of opening day had finally begun to settle.
I should roast myself a little too while I'm at it.
I had built the place and still hadn't used it once. I stripped out of my sweat-soaked clothes, put on the official jjimjilbang uniform, and headed for the third-floor VIP kiln room. The moment I opened the door, a wave of thick, dry heat washed over me.
Exactly that feeling. Ahhh, this is it!
Still... if old man Hexion was here earlier, doesn't that mean Giselle is somewhere in this building too?
There was no way the Ironblood Grand Duchess would be wandering around in a jjimjilbok. And if she had come, the staff would have informed me.
And yet—
Click.
The door to the kiln room opened and someone stepped inside.
"...Huh?"
It was none other than Giselle. And she was wearing the exact same ochre short-sleeved top and shorts as me. On top of that, perched neatly atop her cascading silver hair was—
...A sheep-horn towel?
Yes. The classic towel with both ends rolled up into little horns, sitting demurely on her head.
Damn. Giselle looked good in anything. But like this? She was ridiculously cute. I nearly dislocated my jaw before I managed to clamp it shut and force my face back into its usual cocky expression.
"Hey. You show up here and the staff outside don't even bother telling me?"
Giselle answered without a hint of fluster, perfectly composed.
"I ordered them not to."
"Ha. Seriously. What authority do you have?"
"Better than stirring up unnecessary fuss, wouldn't you say?"
She glanced at me once, then settled herself in the opposite corner, a careful distance away from where I sat.
"The staff were quite attentive. They even recommended I enter this 'jjimjilbang' first to purge toxins."
"Give me a break."
Well, from their perspective, the lord of the territory herself had just descended upon them. What were they supposed to do? An unstoppable force of nature had appeared; of course they had to treat her like royalty.
I snorted and jerked my chin toward her head.
"Anyway, that towel. It looks surprisingly good on you."
Giselle flinched and fussed with the sheep-horn towel atop her head.
"...A small child on the first floor insisted that one must wear it this way in a jjimjilbang and put it on me. I assumed it was the local custom, so I left it alone."
Mmm, mmm! Our neighborhood kids know what's up! Good job, you little gremlins!
Before long an awkward silence settled over the room. I had fully expected her to leave the moment she spotted me, yet for some reason she stayed put, eyes closed. Whether from the intense heat of the earthen kiln or something else, a faint pink flush began to rise in her cheeks. I didn't particularly feel like ordering her out either, so I simply sat there.
Then Giselle opened her eyes and spoke first.
"I intend to use you."
"...What?"
Out of nowhere?
She continued without looking at me.
"The fact that you are an imperial spy and an irredeemable piece of trash remains unchanged. I still despise you."
"..."
"However, the whims and madness you display for your own selfish gain have, on occasion, brought benefit to the North. Forcing rotten nobles to cough up their money, giving the poor jobs and warmth—things of that nature."
Giselle added,
"Therefore, if it means I can save my people, I will thoroughly exploit even that selfish greed of yours."
The words were ice-cold on the surface. But if you listened carefully, wasn't she basically saying, Even if you keep pulling trash stunts, as long as they help the North, I'll look the other way?
In the end she's declaring a temporary ceasefire and giving me legal cover to do whatever I want.
I let out an incredulous little laugh.
"Ha. Wow. Our Grand Duchess really is terrible at human relationships."
"What?"
"Who announces to someone's face that they're going to use them? It's so ridiculous I don't even know what to say."
"..."
The remark must have hit home; Giselle's lips twitched. I waved a hand dismissively and tossed the bottle I'd set beside me toward her.
"Ah, whatever. Just drink this."
Thud.
Giselle casually snagged the flying bottle out of the air. It was banana milk, yellow and sweetly fragrant.
"...What is this? Did you put poison in it?"
"Yeah, it's poisoned. Drink up and die already."
When I snorted, Giselle peered into the bottle.
"I brought it so I could drink it nice and cold, but you started spouting nonsense and ruined the timing. It's lukewarm now. Tastes like crap, so you drink it."
Still wary, Giselle carefully opened the banana milk and took a sip.
"...!"
Her eyes went round. The soft, sweet banana flavor coating her mouth, the sudden rush of sugar into a body exhausted by heat—her expression brightened just a fraction.
She always did have a sweet tooth, didn't she?
I watched her with the corner of my mouth curled up. Giselle wiped her lips and schooled her face again. I laced my fingers behind my head and sprawled out on the floor.
"Anyway, I heard your declaration of war loud and clear—you're going to use me. Do whatever you want. I'll keep living however I please and burning through cash while I'm at it."
"...Fine."
Giselle didn't argue further. She simply sat there, quietly sipping her banana milk.
Inside the sweltering jjimjilbang, even after such a cutthroat conversation, the atmosphere was strangely peaceful and languid.
Time passed. Having sweated thoroughly, Giselle rose first. She opened the door to leave, then glanced down at me lying on the floor.
"Kael."
"Ah, what now."
Giselle let out a soft little snort of a smile and left me with one parting line.
"That sheep-horn towel of yours... it suits you rather well."
"..."
With that, she was gone.
Having finished her thorough sweat session, Giselle walked toward the terrace of the grand hot spring hall, empty milk bottle still in hand. When she opened the terrace door, the cool night air of the North soothed her heated cheeks.
She leaned against the railing and looked down. On any ordinary night the slums would have been deathly silent, people shivering in the dark and cold. Now, under the bright glow of mana-stone streetlamps, the air was filled with the lively voices of territory folk who had finished bathing and were laughing and chatting.
"Hahaha! I feel brand new!"
"Let's come again tomorrow!"
Warm flushes of color had replaced the usual chill on people's faces. Giselle quietly took in the strange, overwhelming sight.
...I intend to use you.
The words she had spoken to him just moments ago had been a vow as a ruler—but they had also been a defense mechanism, a way to rein in her own weak heart that kept wanting to waver toward him.
And yet.
Giselle absently turned the milk bottle in her hands.
"It may only be a whim..."
She breathed out a soft white puff of air that scattered into the night sky and murmured,
"...but you have brought a truly warm spring to this frozen North."
The North's bitter winter night felt unusually gentle that evening.