25. Seria's Soft and Chewy Thigh
A month flew by faster than I'd expected. Finally, the day had come to head to the neighboring Roan Earldom.
Thud! Thud!
"Whoa, almost bit my tongue there."
Every time the carriage wheels hit a rock, my body jolted right along with it. Father was up front in the first carriage, loaded with shampoo samples and gift baskets galore, while Seria and I were alone in the second one trailing behind.
"This road is rough. We seriously need asphalt."
"As... what?"
Seria, sitting across from me, tilted her head. Today, she was decked out in the deep navy escort knight uniform Father had specially commissioned for her. The Martel family's blue rose emblem, embroidered with silver thread, glittered on her shoulders, and my handmade dark brown wooden sword hung neatly at her waist. I'd been hoping for a dress, but damn, this looked just as good.
"Nah, just talking to myself. You holding up okay, Seria?"
"I'm fine, young master. I absorb the vibrations with my core muscles..."
"Pass. Spare me the core muscle talk."
I waved her off and peered out the window. After that weird incident a month ago in the drawing room—tumbling around during dance practice—I'd worried things might get awkward between us. But luckily, we slipped right back to normal. We've been in each other's faces since we were kids, seen all the good, bad, and ugly. Getting weird now would just be silly.
Thud! Boom!
"Ow!"
The carriage bounced hard, slamming my butt down. I thought my tailbone was done for.
"Oof, my ass hurts."
Tears pricking my eyes, I rubbed it gingerly. Should've piled on more cushions. I underestimated these unpaved northern roads.
"Young master, are you alright?"
"Nope. My butt's gonna split in two before we even get to the venue... oh wait, it already is. Anyway, it's gonna end up in your pieces."
Seria let out a soft sigh at my whining, then patted the seat beside her and pointed to her thigh.
"Lie here."
"...Huh?"
"The seat's too hard, right? Rest your head on my lap—it'll cushion the bumps better."
She said it so casually. I froze for a second. Lap pillow? On Seria's thigh? We're 12 and 14, hitting puberty. A guy and girl alone in a carriage doing that? Even for us, isn't this some next-level skinship?
What do I do?
What do you mean, what? Let's go.
"Excuse me for a sec."
Throwing caution to the wind, I scooted over and flopped my head right onto her thigh.
"...Oh."
Insane. What is this? Why's it so damn soft?
Seria's thigh was way squishier and chewier than I'd imagined. But she runs laps around the training ground every day, swings that wooden sword thousands of times. Shouldn't it be rock-hard muscle? This is straight-up cheating. What kind of body is this?
"Uncomfortable?"
She peered down at me.
"Nah... it's perfect. Thanks, Seria."
"Hehe, glad to hear it. Sleep until we get there."
"You sure? Won't it bother you?"
"I'm fine. Don't worry about me—just relax."
She rested her hand on my head and started stroking gently. The carriage's steady rocking, the faint lavender shampoo scent tickling my nose, her soft touch... I wasn't gonna sleep out of guilt, but damn, drowsiness hit hard.
"Mm... wake me when we arrive, then..."
I couldn't fight it anymore and drifted off to dreamland in seconds.
—
Meanwhile, Seria.
"..."
Zzz...
Young master's steady breathing filled the quiet carriage. I gazed down at his sleeping face, pillowed on my thigh.
He usually acts like a wise old soul, teasing me nonstop, but like this—with his eyes closed—he was every bit the innocent 12-year-old boy.
He's grown so much.
When we first met, he barely reached my shoulder. Lately, he's shooting up by the day, eye-level with me now. His shoulders had broadened too, and thinking back to those firm abs I'd glimpsed by chance...
Whoosh.
Heat rushed to my face. I shook my head furiously.
What am I thinking, Seria? Such irreverence toward your lord!
Calming myself, I gently stroked his silver hair. Thanks to the shampoo he invented, it was cloud-soft, slipping through my fingers so smoothly I couldn't stop.
I'd been admiring his sleeping face for a while when...
Just... touch it once?
The random urge hit me. As his escort knight, touching his face without permission crosses a line. But... we're alone in here, and he's out cold. Maybe just a little?
Gulp.
I reached out tentatively. First, those long lashes caught my eye. My fingertip brushed his eyelid lightly.
So thick and long.
Girls would kill for these. Sliding down his straight nose, I spotted those pale, squishy cheeks. Like a spell, I poked one.
Squish.
Even softer than expected—my lips twitched into a grin. Emboldened, I pinched it ever so lightly between thumb and forefinger.
"Mm..."
He frowned faintly in his sleep, let out a little groan, then turned, burying his face against my stomach and snuggling deeper.
"...!!"
His warm breath seeped through my uniform shirt. My heart plummeted, then pounded wildly. My face burned, fingers trembled. But pushing him away? No way.
Young master... you're too cute.
The thought flooded my mind. I loved his usual mischievous grin, but this defenseless cuddling? Lethal to my heart.
I turned to the window to cool my flushed cheeks but kept stroking his hair. In the bumpy carriage, with Roan Earldom still far off, I secretly wished this cramped, shaky time would stretch out just a bit longer.
—
"Young master, wake up. We're here."
A gentle shake on my shoulder snapped my eyes open. Outside, the carriage had stopped at the grand gates of Roan Earldom's mansion.
"Yaaawn... Already?"
Stretching, I sat up. Thanks to Seria's squishy thigh, I'd slept like the dead. First thought upon rising: guilt. Even at 12, I'm still a boy—my head's gotta be heavy. Her leg must be numb as hell.
I hopped out first, opening the door, then offered my hand to her still-seated self in full escort pose.
"Seria, seriously sorry. Your leg okay?"
She stared at my outstretched hand, then took it lightly with her gloved one and hopped down gracefully.
"Mhm, it's fine."
Huh? Something's off. I eyed her face. That soft voice—what? And that suspiciously bright smile?
Rational suspicion kicked in.
"Seria, why're you grinning like that?"
I rubbed my cheeks.
"You didn't do anything weird to my face while I was out, did you? Like draw a mustache with a quill or write 'idiot' on my forehead!?"
She burst into giggles at my freakout.
"As if. I'm not a kid pulling pranks like that."
"Nah, you're super suspicious. You were just eyeing my cheeks and licking your lips!"
"I didn't! Your cheeks were just... surprisingly sticky-rice-cake-like, that's all... Ah."
She clapped a hand over her mouth, realizing her slip.
I narrowed my eyes, grilling her.
"See? You touched 'em! Pinched 'em!"
"N-no pinching! I just held your head so it wouldn't hit during bumps!"
"Liar! Did I drool? You wiped my drool!?"
That'd be mortifying.
"N-no drool! And how dare I touch my lord's face anyway!"
Face red, she whipped her head away. But those twitching lips gave her away.
Hmm, whatever, no big deal. But it's bugging me. No proof, can't press it.
"Sketchy... Gonna check a mirror later."
"Go ahead. Perfectly fine and smooth."
She shoved my back lightly and strode ahead. Her navy uniform fluttered as she walked—her steps seemed lighter than usual.
"Wait up, Seria!"
Still miffed, I pinched my cheek one more time, grumbled, and hurried after her toward the venue.