Chloe - 1: Kisses on Every Scar
Chloe - 1
“Mmm…”
When she opened her eyes, a familiar ceiling greeted her. Its ornate design spoke of old money. The furniture decorating the room was so luxurious it would have been impossible to buy on a knight’s salary—no matter how generous. Chloe lay on a bed far softer than her own and let her gaze drift across the space for a moment.
“This is…”
Her master’s room. Leoric Franz’s bedroom.
The moment the realization hit, she frantically checked her body. The fingers that magic had erased, the flayed skin, the torn muscle, the shattered bones—everything was perfectly, flawlessly healed.
“It doesn’t hurt…”
Healing magic was never perfect. Some illnesses simply refused to yield, and the technique itself was so advanced that even Chloe—who took quiet pride in her magic control—couldn’t wield it without flaw. Without Lord Leoric’s guidance, she would still be struggling to mend even the smallest cut on herself. That was how difficult the art was.
Yet now she stared at her outstretched hand.
As expected of Lord Leoric…
It wasn’t a matter of raw power. She had sensed the overwhelming scale of his magic, but what truly stole her breath was the godlike precision of his control.
“What about me?”
“Eek!”
Chloe whipped around with a startled cry. There, framed by morning sunlight that haloed his silver hair like a blessing, stood her master—Leoric Franz.
“L-Lord Leoric!”
“Whoa, easy. Easy. Just because the wounds are gone doesn’t mean the blood you lost has come back.”
“Y-yes… understood.”
She had been trying to leap out of bed. He waved her back down. Though she clearly had a mountain of things she wanted to say, Chloe’s complicated expression softened into a nod as he approached her bedside.
Hmm.
He had been careful with the healing, but the truth was that true restoration remained an incredibly delicate art. Honestly, he still didn’t fully understand the underlying mechanism. After all, this was magic capable of regenerating lost body parts. It could even cure diseases whose causes this world’s people couldn’t begin to identify—provided they weren’t purely physical defects. Of course, most of those fortunate enough to receive such treatment were nobles.
Still, unless the injury was life-threatening or likely to leave permanent aftereffects, slow natural recovery was usually wiser.
“How does your body feel?”
“Perfectly fine. Once again I’ve burdened you—Lord Leoric… President—because of my own inadequacy. Please forgive this disloyalty.”
“Well, I’d say this one was unavoidable. It was Duke-class magic power, after all.”
“Duke-class!”
Chloe’s sharp blue eyes flew wide. She had guessed the power was of a high noble rank, but apparently she hadn’t imagined it could truly be Duke-class. In this world, Duke-class magic was the highest tier—equivalent to that of royalty itself. True, storing it inside a Magic Stone and detonating it lowered the spell’s overall quality, yet the fact that a single knight had perfectly controlled her own magic to neutralize the blast without collateral damage was nothing short of extraordinary.
She deserved praise. The full story of the incident could wait. For now, what should he say first?
Right.
“You did well, Chloe. As expected of my first blade.”
“…Th-thank you.”
She stared at him in a daze. Come to think of it, this might have been the first time he had praised her so directly.
“Perfectly controlling a Magic Stone bomb infused with the magic power of a high-ranking noble and ensuring zero damage to the surroundings. Subduing the merchant owner of a slave caravan that was moving with suspicious purpose. Excellent work on both counts.”
“This glory belongs to Franz!”
Chloe pushed herself halfway up on the bed and offered a crisp, abbreviated salute. Her faintly flushed cheeks revealed how happy she was. On the other hand, the sight left a faintly bitter taste in his mouth.
“Since you’ve earned such merit, it’s only right that you receive a suitable reward. I shall bestow land upon House Tristan.”
“Land, my lord?”
“Inside the inner citadel. The central district—prime real estate. I don’t know what’s currently fashionable among the common folk, but whether you open a shop or build whatever you like, there will be no objection.”
“But land like that is already almost entirely…”
“Hahaha.”
When a vassal performed a great service, a lord granted a reward. That was common sense. The question was what form it should take. Money, honor, a noble daughter, or land.
The Franz domain consisted of the great city of Franz itself, smaller cities ruled by lesser nobles sworn to the Franz family, and a handful of towns and villages scattered between them. In a territory this vast, once land had been granted it was rarely reclaimed and reassigned—unless the recipient committed treason.
Therefore the land usually bestowed upon vassals fell into two categories. The first was small cities or villages lying between major territories—places where the recipient could collect taxes directly. The second was land within an existing city. That was closer to a real-estate grant than outright ownership. If the recipient committed a crime, or failed to produce the expected revenue from the property, the land could be reclaimed.
However, the plot he was giving her now was slightly different.
“This is my land.”
“You said… your own land, my lord?”
He was only the second son, after all. Most of the inheritance would go to his elder brother Aidan, but he was hardly left with nothing. Besides, rewarding his own knight with his father’s or brother’s land would have been strange.
“That is far too generous, Lord Leoric!”
“There you go slipping back into formal speech again. Ah, well. In any case, if you fail to perform your duties properly, the land will be taken back. You’ll continue to give it your all as you always have, yes?”
“…Of course. Chloe Tristan, first blade of her lord, once again swears her life in loyal service.”
It was good that she spoke with such sincerity, yet the part about staking her life left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.
Good. Time to move on to the points.
“You reached a hundred points some time ago, but I’ve been too busy lately to keep up with it. My apologies.”
The sudden shift in topic made Chloe’s expression flicker with confusion. Having just woken up, her face was cycling through emotions far more openly than usual—adorable. He smiled at the sight and continued.
“It feels a little unfair to change the terms of a promise we’ve already begun, but I think this is necessary.”
“My lord? What are you—eek!”
He moved closer. Chloe, sitting up on the soft bed, startled visibly. The thin nightgown the maids had dressed her in clung lightly to her frame. As expected, a white shirt suited her best. He had commissioned one as close as possible to her usual style, and it looked perfect on her. A secretary’s uniform was a suit, after all. …Enough jokes.
“Now then, Chloe.”
“Y-yes?”
Her cheeks were faintly pink as she looked up at him. In her eyes he could see a small, swelling hope. Had yesterday’s events not occurred, he might have taken her right then and there, but—
“Point deduction.”
“…Pardon?”
His sudden words left her blank-faced. Perhaps she hadn’t understood. Even the usually sharp Chloe seemed unable to process what he meant. He took her hand. The skin was soft. These were the fingers that had once been lost, the flesh that had been torn away. The horrific scene from that day flashed through his mind again.
“There was a wound on your face. A deep one that would have left a terrible scar. Without me, this beautiful face would have been ruined. Point deduction.”
“W-wait… L-Lord Leoric? What are you suddenly—!”
“There was a wound on your chest. Half of your soft breast was gone, and your nipple had been severed. Point deduction.”
“P-please stop, Lord Leoric!”
“There was a wound on your arm. The muscle itself was shredded. Without me, that arm would never have moved again. Point deduction.”
“Lord Leoric!”
“You remember the finger that was blown off, yes? Obviously a deduction.”
“Ah… aah…!”
The words came like bullets. A single tear slid down Chloe’s cheek. Deduction. Deduction. Deduction. With every repetition her expression crumbled further, dying a little more.
“Lord Leoric…! Please, stop! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!”
Oh dear. This suddenly feels like one of those worn-out regret-and-obsession stories.
He gently stroked the cheek of the silver-haired knight who stared at him with hollow eyes.
“What exactly are you sorry for?”
“Th-that is…!”
She faltered. Of course it wouldn’t make sense to her. Sudden point deductions out of nowhere. He stroked her hair and slowly tilted his head.
Chu.
“Ah…!”
The warm taste of her lips. Then he licked away the tears still rolling down her cheek.
“Whose are you?”
“I-I am Lord Leoric’s.”
“Then whose is this body?”
“It is, of course, Lord Leoric’s.”
“Then I command you.”
“Yes!”
He cupped the face of the woman who had been unconscious until moments ago, her cheeks now streaked with tears.
“From this moment on, I forbid any wound on any place I kiss.”
“…Th-that is—”
She hesitated. Her usual silver hair, normally braided into three neat strands that fell to her chest, now spilled freely down her back. He lifted a lock, laid it across his palm, and kissed it.
“Lord Leoric…”
“From now on, I forbid anyone from cutting your hair.”
He turned and kissed her cheek.
“Do not carve any scar upon these cheeks.”
He kissed her eyelid.
“Your eyes when they look at me are beautiful. I forbid any wound upon them.”
He kissed the lobe of her ear.
“You were so adorable every time I teased you. I forbid any wound upon your ears.”
Her nose.
“Just as I love to smell your scent, you must smell mine. I forbid any wound upon your nose.”
Her lips.
“Your voice calling my name is something I need. I forbid any wound upon your mouth.”
“L-Leoric…”
Chloe gazed at him, eyes shimmering with fresh tears. He kissed her lips again. This time her arms rose to wrap around his neck.
Chuu.
“Don’t get hurt. Not for my sake. When you are in pain, I am in pain as well.”
He whispered the words while staring straight into her eyes.
“Lord Leoric.”
Their gazes locked.
“Call me Leo, Chloe.”
“…Leo… nim.”
Thump.
As the kiss deepened and he leaned closer, she sank back onto the bed. He looked down at her—pure white shirt against his sheets, silver hair spread like moonlight.
“I love you, Chloe.”
“I love you… Lord Leo.”