In a Harmonious Baron's Household (2)
The storm of a night had passed.
I, who had lost consciousness, opened my eyes to the warm morning sunlight seeping into the room.
Fucking bastard… haah…
I spat the curse under my breath and pushed myself upright. After sitting blankly for a moment, I came back to myself and took stock of my body. Traces of last night still marked my naked skin here and there.
Hic… what am I supposed to do?
I couldn't calm the hammering in my chest no matter how hard I tried. Why hadn't my body moved? I should have beaten him senseless. Growing up, I had rarely ever lost a fight.
But this body isn't built for fighting.
One look was enough — thin arms, thin legs. The full breasts and wide hips were attractive, sure, but they would only get in the way in a brawl. Pick a fight with Ian, whose hobby was hunting, and I could end up dead…
Huuu…
I let out another long breath, told myself it was time to move, and got up from the bed.
Ugh…
How hard had I clenched my thighs while enduring last night? Pain surged up and I couldn't help frowning. I managed a few shaky steps and made my way over to the desk. Wetting a towel with water from a bottle that looked as if it had been left out for drinking, I began wiping myself down. As I scrubbed away the yellowed, crusted semen caked thickly between my legs, I swallowed hard. My thighs still burned and ached so badly that every step was a struggle.
After roughly cleaning myself off, I picked up the nightgown discarded on the floor, pulled it on, and surveyed the bed.
This isn't something I can just half-ass…
The semen stains on the sheets dragged the humiliating memories of the night before back up, and my body flinched. I was about to try piecing together the hazy recollections when my movement stopped cold. Something low in the corner of my turned vision snagged my eye.
A note.
Hastily scrawled handwriting on roughly torn paper — anyone could tell it had been written in a rush. Was there anyone who would leave me a note? And even if there were, what would it say?
My hand reached for it on its own. My eyes began to read.
The characters were unfamiliar, yet somehow I could understand them.
To the new May Blair.
I'm sorry you had to go through something so terrible.
Open the bottommost drawer of the desk in my room.
You'll find things you need inside.
The password is 0926.
After reading it, I fell silent for a moment. The writing was rushed, but the round, pretty letters looked like a woman's hand.
What the hell is this? Who sent it?
I gave a hollow, disbelieving smile and started to crumple the note — then stopped.
"The new May Blair"… that means me, doesn't it?
And "something terrible" is what happened last night…
Written by someone who knows my situation?
The desk drawer…
My gaze swung back to the desk. A solid hardwood desk sat in the corner of the room. When I opened the bottommost drawer, something like a large box was nestled inside.
What's this?
A wooden box of black timber and metal. Unknown characters were etched on its surface, but I knew instinctively they were numbers.
0926, right?
My throat was dry. I lifted the water bottle, gulped several mouthfuls, then carefully began pressing the digits.
Click!
With a small sound, the lid of the box sprang open. Confirming it, I carefully lifted the cover. This was probably a safe, by this world's standards.
The phrase on the note — from my room's desk — kept nagging at me. That would mean the original owner of this body, May, had written it…
When I opened the box, the first thing that caught my eye was a small dagger of gleaming metal. I carefully drew the roughly two-handspan blade from its finely worked sheath.
Shiiing!
With a cold rasp, a blade that shone like midwinter frost flashed into view.
A women's self-defense dagger?
The beautifully carved fish-shaped exterior made it clear this had never been meant for a man. A leather strap was fixed to the sheath so it could be secured somewhere on the body. I felt a flicker of unease, but tilted my head and set the dagger on the floor for now.
A dozen or so glass bottles filled with pills of every color came into view next.
These medicine bottles?
One of them looked familiar. It was the same kind of bottle that had held the rat poison I'd seen in the warehouse.
So it came from here…
Is this a contraceptive?
A bottle packed with pink pills was labeled as such. Instructions to take it within twelve hours after intercourse were helpfully attached. A morning-after pill? Was the level of science here that high? Without proof I couldn't know if it actually worked. But I might need it going forward, so I made a point of remembering it.
And there was one more eye-catching object inside the safe.
A book bound in black leather. At a glance it looked anything but ordinary. I could even feel a faintly spreading, wicked aura seeping from it. Tense, I opened the first page — a year and a date were written there.
"You who suffer from a seductive body — eat the rat poison in the second-floor warehouse."
It wasn't writing pressed in by a pen. It felt as if the letters themselves had bled up out of the paper.
Eat the rat poison…?
That was exactly what May had done.
A seductive body?
Something clicked. The words Ian had spoken last night floated unbidden into my mind.
"It's your fault. Because you go around giving off a female scent…"
Female scent…
He didn't mean armpit odor. He meant my body gave off a bitch's scent — that he was the victim, seduced by May. Cliché lines like that were the stock excuses of sexual predators, but still…
I looked once more at the mirror hanging on the wall.
A body full of sin.
The words just spilled out of my mouth without thought. Silver hair glittering in the morning light. Deep blue eyes the color of aquamarine. An innocent face with dried tear tracks still clinging to it looked pitiful — and yet it seemed like the kind of face that could drive a man out of his mind.
My gaze drifted slowly below the nape of my neck. The curves of my breasts, boasting overwhelming elasticity and presence, could not be hidden by a thin nightgown. The soft, yielding give I'd felt when they were touched last night came back to me. I brushed them lightly over the fabric once more. How much spring would breasts this full need just to hold their shape? It wasn't only the size — they sat high on the chest, which made them even more striking.
How embarrassing.
Looking at my own face flushed red with shame was unbearable, so I turned away. I wasn't about to take a criminal's side — but living under the same roof as a woman this alluring would be hell on any man, too.
Beloved daughter…
Even the baron's words at dinner — that he was sad he wouldn't get to see her anymore — now felt unsettling. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head. My chest tightened until it was hard to breathe. At this rate I couldn't handle it. I wanted to run from this pressure. But with the household in this state, May — who had already lost every place to flee…
I gave a bitter smile and turned to the next page of the book in my hand.
"What you need today is the dagger."
Ominous wording. Needing a dagger meant something urgent enough to require a weapon was coming, didn't it?
I'll hide the dagger on my thigh.
If I was wearing a skirt, that was the only practical place. I used the strap on the sheath to fix it firmly against my right thigh. I wondered why May hadn't used this dagger to fight back. But resisting a rough man was a fool's move. You could get killed for it.
"May, it's breakfast time! Don't be late!"
The baron knocked on the door from outside and called out.
"Yes — I'll be right out!"
Just the sound of a man's voice sent a chill down my spine. But if I stayed cooped up in this room without coming out, it would only raise suspicion. I hurriedly pulled the blanket over the semen-stained sheets, took out a dress, changed into it, and headed for the dining room on the first floor. The thought of facing Ian was worse than dying — but I had no choice.
I opened the door and stepped out. The baron was standing right there. Caught completely off guard, I froze solid.
Hah…
"Why do you look like you've seen a ghost? Is something wrong?"
The baron regarded me with a smile on his face.
"No… it's nothing…"
I forced a smile and let the words trail off. That was what I said — but what was this old man doing alone in the empty second-floor hallway…?
Without thinking, my right hand moved, groping for the dagger on my thigh.
"Fana's already downstairs waiting. Hurry along."
Fana…
Thank god. We'd be going to the academy together. Stay in this house and there was no telling what might be done to me.
With every step I swallowed the shame and the anger rising in my throat, went down to the dining room, and sat. Ian greeted me with a smile as if nothing at all had happened.
Happy, you fucking bastard? Feel good tormenting your little sister?
I forced a smile back at him — but my right hand stayed on the dagger's hilt. When the cool touch of the metal reached my fingertips, I finally felt a little safer.