Face-to-Face Dinner (1)
Three days have passed since I possessed this body in this world.
All I've done in that time is lie in bed, eating the meals Hwaya brings me or diligently chewing the fruit she cuts into small pieces and feeds me by hand.
On the first day, I freaked out about possessions and all that nonsense by myself. But as the actual patient confined to this room for recovery, there wasn't much I could do.
I figured it was a romance-fantasy possession story, but since I have no idea what tale this body belongs to, I can't even plan for the future or worry based on the original plot.
And I can't meet people either. The massive fox I assume is the male lead hasn't visited me once in all this time... All I can manage is nodding at the mouse doctor's checkups or flashing big smiles at Hwaya whenever she chats with me.
"The peonies in the garden are starting to bloom. Summer must be here already."
"Really? It doesn't feel that hot yet."
"You've never been one to mind the heat, ma'am. Some of the girls are already wilting."
Even now, I'm nodding enthusiastically as Hwaya feeds me bite-sized apple pieces.
"So we should have the girls dry them before it gets any hotter."
"The peonies?"
"Yes. Tea made from dried peonies is something special."
Hwaya calls the other maids "the girls" when she assigns them tasks, so she must hold a high position among them. Yet instead of handing off my care, she stays by my side all day. Her relationship with Ryu Sua clearly isn't ordinary.
No matter how hard I dig through these hazy memories, I've never had parents nurse me this devotedly. It wouldn't be honest to say it doesn't feel burdensome, but it's not unwelcome either.
Who wouldn't like being loved? It's just that knowing this affection isn't really for me leaves a nagging discomfort in my heart.
"You must drink it often."
"Yes. You might enjoy trying it next time, ma'am."
She's choosing her words carefully even now, out of consideration for Ryu Sua's memory loss. The original Ryu Sua must have loved peony tea, but Hwaya stops at just recommending it.
She's probably avoiding anything too direct to spare me any anxiety about my amnesia. Every time I feel that thoughtfulness, a sharp pang stabs at the edge of my chest. Guess that's where my conscience lives.
If only I had some memories, I could say something Ryu Sua might have and pat myself on the back. But I can't even do that.
"I'll definitely give it a try once I'm allowed."
"Probably next week. You can look forward to it, ma'am."
"Yeah. I will, Hwaya."
I'm doing my best to pick words she'll like hearing too. It's the best way I can repay her.
That's why I started with this awkward half-polite speech. She prefers a nod and "Yeah" over a formal "Yes." She seems to secretly hope I'll switch to casual talk entirely.
But blurting casual speech at someone feels off to me, so I've just been smiling it away.
Hwaya finishes feeding me the last apple piece, neatly arranges the bowl on the tray, then flashes a warm eye-smile like something just occurred to her.
"Oh, right! Starting with dinner tonight, you'll have a proper table setting instead of porridge. The doctor says you're recovering fast enough for regular meals."
"Really?"
"Of course, no heavy, greasy foods that might be hard to digest yet."
No matter what they prepare, I'll eat it without complaint. I'm not some kid throwing a tantrum over food.
But just opening my mouth for spoonfuls of porridge was way more awkward than I'd imagined. Even now, being fed fruit feels a bit embarrassing, but I can't ignore Hwaya's worry if I refuse.
It'd be great if she'd just prepare chopsticks and let me eat on my own. For the first time, I'm actually looking forward to mealtime.
"Then I'll help you get ready, ma'am."
"Get ready for what?"
Her words make my head tilt instinctively. Get ready? For eating? What prep does dinner need that she'd help with?
"The lord will be dining with you tonight."
"Pardon?"
With who?
"So you need at least some basic preparation."
Hwaya's hands deftly untie the knot of my jacket strings. It's so natural that I only realize they've come undone after the fabric slips loose from my body.
She doesn't stop there, reaching for the remaining ties with a gentle smile. Dazed by that smile, I stare blankly—
"Shall we wipe you down first, ma'am?"
Her words snap me back to reality with a jolt.
Sure, I'm in a woman's body now, but my mind is still that of a healthy late-20s guy from Korea. No way could I bare myself sober to another woman.
"I-I can do it myself!"
"No, ma'am."
I yank desperately to keep my clothes from her grasp.
It's not like I haven't changed since possessing this body. Someone as attentive as Hwaya wouldn't let me wear the same outfit for days.
But that was just swapping the jacket, underblouse, or outer skirt. For undergarments like the breast cover or crotch liner, I'd change them myself, with her just tidying the pleats.
Even that had my face burning. Now, from the determined glint in Hwaya's eyes as she tries to strip me, my instincts scream: if she takes these, I'll be completely naked.
From day one, I'd thought this thin red underblouse was worse than nothing, but now I see it's pure symbolism of chastity and purity. Nothing guards a body like it.
Maybe pitying my pathetic grip, or perhaps softening, the blouse tugs slightly toward me—as if she might let go any second.
"Ma'am, my duty is to follow your wishes as much as possible."
"Yes! Just prepare everything and I'll—"
"But."
The loosening grip tightens again. My resistance barely counts as interference. The blouse slips from my fingers in an instant.
"Leaving you like this would be even more disloyal. Forgive me just this once."
"H-Hwaya!"
"Ma'am, someday you'll be more embarrassed by a sloppy undergarment than this shyness."
"N-No, this is way worse!"
I'm all dressed up... Ah, but in this body, I couldn't go to the groom's house anyway...
Not that I like calling it "married off." By that logic, with a fiancé already set, I'm basically there.
This is all Hwaya's fault for scrubbing every inch of me with that towel so diligently.
"Ma'am."
I don't answer Hwaya.
I can't.
Face burning, mortified, I cover it with both hands, head bowed, lips clamped shut—or I'll faint from the humiliation.
"I know what you're thinking, ma'am, but if this much bothers you, what will you do later?"
"Later? Why later...?"
"Later, a bunch of maids will attend your bath. What then?"
One person seeing me naked is already mortifying. A crowd of maids later? Impossible. No way.
"Let me do it alone..."
"Then the girls get in big trouble."
"Ugh..."
But I don't want to be embarrassed, and I hate seeing others scolded. From their side, they're just doing their jobs diligently, like always.
Thinking that way, do I even have the right to refuse?
"It's natural to feel resistant, ma'am. Exposing yourself to strangers all of a sudden."
Hwaya sets down the towel and begins dressing me in fresh clothes, layer by layer.
The unfamiliar garments brush silently against my skin under her skilled hands, settling perfectly. Unlike my tangled thoughts, my body accepts the service naturally—lifting arms when wiping, shifting positions as needed.
"But please understand our desire to present the one we serve as beautifully as possible."
"I-I'll try."
"Thank you, ma'am."
Even now, as she brushes my hair, my hands feel empty, itching to do something natural.
Has my body stayed the same in that regard? Are habits and sensations purely Ryu Sua's, lingering intact?
With the contents swapped to me, there's no way to know.
I fidget with my idle hands, letting her style my hair.
"Could you hold this for a moment, ma'am?"
Hwaya places a red hair ribbon in my hand. The emptiness vanishes instantly.
But instead of relief, my mood sinks. The void's gone, so I should feel better—yet I feel worse. Weird.
Meeting the male lead for the first time must be more daunting than I thought. Yeah, that's probably it.