Interlude (1)
It was that hazy state between dream and waking. Maybe because I'd stayed up all night and only fallen asleep at dawn — or maybe because I'd just lived through such a stimulating ordeal. Either way, my mind was fogbound and dim, and it was not a condition I could call pleasant.
When I slowly opened my eyes, I was greeted by Rihardt's sleeping face. My thoughts ground to a halt.
Why?
Unable to accept the situation, I squeezed my eyes shut. Only after a few seconds did I cautiously open them again, praying that all of this was merely an unpleasant daydream. Unfortunately, reality proved more nightmarish than any nightmare.
Still, I suppose it was a mercy of sorts that I'd built up a tolerance after going through something similar once before.
I calmly retraced how I'd fallen asleep. Back at the mansion, I had indulged in the luxury of a hot bath in Rihardt's private bathroom. Beyond that, my memory ended.
I must have fallen asleep in the tub.
It made sense — it had been an exhausting day, physically and mentally. The schedule was such that merely staying conscious from start to finish deserved commendation.
Which meant Rihardt must have carried me to the bed.
I pushed back the blanket covering me and looked down. My bare body, without a single stitch, lay fully exposed.
He could have at least put some clothes on me. Then again, expecting that kind of consideration from Rihardt was its own problem.
I tried to raise my upper body.
"Nngh?"
More precisely, I tried and was stopped. Rihardt's arm was wrapped around my body — exactly like a child hugging a beloved stuffed toy.
As I squirmed, Rihardt spoke with his eyes still closed.
"Let's sleep a little more. You're tired, aren't you?"
Had he been awake all along? Or had my thrashing woken him? Either way, fine. I promptly made my wishes known.
"As I've said before, I fail to see how I could possibly share a bed with you, Young Master Rihardt—"
"Lucy. Are you going to keep being noisy?"
There was a thread of irritation woven through Rihardt's low murmur. I stopped squirming at once, not daring to make another peep.
"I'm tired already, you know. Thanks to you."
"...Because of me?"
"While you were asleep, I spoke with Father and Mother separately."
"About what, may I ask?"
"The corporal punishment."
Come to think of it, the whole reason I'd trailed after Rihardt was to put off that punishment. I swallowed drily and waited for him to continue.
But no matter how long I waited, he showed no sign of saying another word.
Should I risk asking? Our young master certainly knew how to infuriate a person, didn't he?
"...Young Master?"
At my words, Rihardt, who had kept his eyes closed, slid them open.
"I take it you're curious?"
"Anyone would be curious if you trailed off like that."
At my retort, he grinned like a mischievous boy.
"You know what, Lucy? You look endlessly patient, but you're secretly quite the hot-head."
"I'm aware. I know my own temperament well enough."
"And you secretly hate losing, too."
Stop trying to sneak a grab at my chest.
I swatted away the hand creeping toward my breast and shot back, "Then let me ask you in return, Young Master — who anywhere wants to lose?"
"Lucy."
There he goes again with the low voice, laying it on thick.
I immediately bowed my head.
"That was out of line. My apologies."
Rihardt, who had been staring at me, gently stroked my hair.
"This is exactly what makes you fun, Lucy. You're perceptive, and you have a knack for skating right along the edge of the line."
You keep me around because I flatter your tastes so well. That's what you really want to say, isn't it? How deeply grateful I am.
I answered with a certain sulkiness.
"Do you find tormenting your personal maid entertaining?"
"Very. Immensely. That's why I went ahead and did a little pushing of my own."
"Pushing?"
"The punishment. If anyone takes it, it'll be me. You won't be punished unfairly — not ever."
I stared at Rihardt, wide-eyed. He was saying he'd settled the punishment matter while I slept. One weight off my shoulders, at least.
"...Thank you."
"No thanks needed. It's only right."
Abruptly, his lips pressed against my forehead — a dry kiss, carrying not one grain of affection. Not that I had any use for that revolting emotion anyway.
"I'm simply protecting what's mine."
I answered with rather more exasperation than the words deserved.
"The man who disposes of whatever displeases him without mercy is telling me that?"
"Things that serve no purpose and only take up space can be cleared out."
"Like Nilla?"
A flicker of interest crossed Rihardt's eyes.
"You knew?"
The blonde, blue-eyed maid who had once been hostile to me — I already knew that 'Nilla' had been driven out of this mansion by Rihardt.
"With rumors spreading that far and wide, would it not be stranger if I didn't know?"
Truthfully, part of me had envied her. At the very least, Nilla was free of the ever-present threat of falling victim to Rihardt's clutches.
He looked at me with a sly expression.
"What rumor, exactly?"
"That Rihardt de Line, eldest son of the Line Count family, took a shine to Lucy and drove out Nilla, who had made her life hell."
"Not a rumor. A fact. And Nilla is about to meet with a very unfortunate accident, too."
His next words washed away any envy I'd felt for her on the spot. Thorough to the very end, this man — even his cleanup work.
"Which brings us to one more thing that needs handling."
Something that needs handling.
I had a fair idea what it was.
"You mean Bianca."
"I'm hardly cut out for charity — feeding and housing a toy that's stopped being fun."
Admittedly, it was the expected step. What had been the fundamental reason Karen was brought in as a new toy, after all? Wasn't it precisely that his interest in Bianca had waned? New toy in, old toy out — surely that was the logic at work.
His crimson eyes looked colder than ever today.
"I see."
"You can handle it well, can't you, Lucy?"
"You mean to entrust it entirely to me?"
"I'll be rather busy these next few days."
Busy with what?
When I showed my puzzlement, Rihardt said, offhand, "My knighting ceremony is coming up soon."
A knighting ceremony.
Come to think of it, Rihardt's current rank was squire. Too ambiguous to call a true knight — a quasi-knight, if one insisted on a word? The irony, of course, was his skill, which in no way befitted a mere squire. Rihardt already possessed the prowess to casually overwhelm most any knight; he had simply delayed the formality out of procedure and custom.
"I heard it from Father directly, so it will proceed within days."
From his father directly? Something in those words set my instincts prickling.
"Could it be — did you strike some bargain with the Count on my account...?"
He smiled brightly.
"Overthinking it, Lucy."
It was as good as an order to drop the subject, and I realized nothing good could come of pressing further.
"Then let me offer my early congratulations on your knighthood, Young Master."
"Spare me the congratulations."
He was neither excited by nor pleased with his new title. A knighthood carried genuine weight in the world, yet apparently even that could leave a man this unmoved.
"All of which is to say, I truly won't have the time to deal with it — hence leaving it to you, Lucy."
"...Then couldn't you simply postpone the matter of Bianca?"
Rihardt answered by pulling me into his arms.
"Why would I, when I have such a dependable Lucy right here?"
"Ahh—ugh."
The embrace was fiercer than I expected — strong enough that I half-wondered whether my body might be crushed.
"Oh, right. Your muscles must be aching by now. Does being held like this hurt?"
He had that exactly right. I was only now realizing it myself: the slightest movement made my body cry out. My condition was bad enough that even trivial motions brought tears welling at the corners of my eyes — all thanks to how roughly I'd moved yesterday.
I answered with rather more feeling than I intended.
"It hurts, Young Master."
"…………."
No reply.
Wondering what game he was playing this time, I turned to look at him. His eyes held the glazed look of a man entranced by something.
"...Young Master?"
Even calling him again drew only the faintest reaction.
Why did it unsettle me so much when this man went quiet?
Tears had welled in Lucy's eyes.
Surely it was a purely physiological reaction — in short, the result of my crushing her too tightly. My overzealous embrace had raised the pressure behind her eyes and set her tear ducts off. I'd seen this a time or two before, so I could have written it off as nothing out of the ordinary...
And yet, somehow, my chest gave a sharp twinge.
It was an unfamiliar sensation — and an immense stimulus.
What is this?
It was plainly an abnormal reaction. Nothing like when other women had cried — this was more intimate, and far more potent.
I really have started to think of Luciper as something special.
Otherwise there'd be no explaining an emotion like this, would there? It wasn't unpleasant, or a bad feeling of any kind.
I had stayed silent so long that she recoiled in alarm. Even that reaction of hers struck me as adorable.
"Looking at you stirs up a lot in me, Lucy."
"...What do you mean by that?"
Had my musing slipped right out of my mouth? Well, since it was out, I figured I might as well tell her exactly what I'd felt. I reached out and caressed her lovely cheek.
"I've started wanting to make you cry."
She must have taken that for a thoroughly suspicious remark. Like a cat with its fur bristling, Luciper flinched back.
"Ah — not right now, of course. I've no pretext for it yet."
"...I see?"
Her gray eyes were taut with a very specific question: So the moment you do have a pretext, you fully intend to?
Which was funny, too.
"Lucy."
"Yes."
"Why do you think that might be?"
"Do people normally ask that of the person concerned?"
"You looked curious."
"And if I ask, will you tell me?"
"Anyone else, I wouldn't tell. But since it's you, Lucy, I will."
I brought my lips close to her ear and whispered, gentle as anything.
"It seems you've become special to me."
How to describe Lucy's expression upon hearing that...
It was priceless.