Touch

That night found me once again in the shared bedroom, listening to Lamia's enthusiastic—and thoroughly mortifying—advice.

"I heard you received an apology for yesterday?"

"S-so what?!"

"Then tonight is definitely the night!"

"W-what do you mean?"

Lamia chuckled and nudged my shoulder with her elbow, grinning like a cat who'd cornered a mouse.

"Oh, you know exactly what I mean. Don't play innocent."

I jumped up, attempting to straighten my expression into something appropriately dignified.

"You really have no manners!"

Truthfully, I wasn't genuinely angry—it was more that Lamia's teasing tone made my face burn hot enough to rival the fireplace.

She grinned wider and shrugged without the slightest hint of remorse.

"I hear that a lot!"

"That's not a compliment."

"Doesn't matter right now. More importantly..."

Lamia's expression shifted, becoming unexpectedly serious.

"What did I tell you to remember?"

I answered hesitantly, avoiding her gaze as heat flooded my cheeks.

"If... if I don't like something, push it away with all my strength."

"And?"

"A-and if it's... good... then it's good..."

My voice grew progressively quieter until it was barely a whisper. I felt certain my face would combust at any moment.

Lamia nodded with satisfaction, looking thoroughly pleased with herself.

"If you keep what I've told you in mind, there won't be much to surprise you. Don't be too frightened."

After she left, I repeated to myself like a mantra:

'This is a duty. A marital duty. Just a responsibility that needs fulfilling.'

But before she'd gone, Lamia had patted my shoulder one last time.

"Don't think of it as merely a duty. Think of it as something enjoyable."

"There's no way it could be enjoyable!"

"Oh?"

Her eyes had widened with exaggerated innocence.

"It's absolutely a pleasure. The lady clearly has feelings for our master."

"I don't—that's not—"

I'd denied it immediately, then grumbled:

"And what does that have to do with whether it's enjoyable or not?"

"It has everything to do with it. Trust me. Spending the night with someone you love is a truly happy and pleasurable experience."

'The problem is that it's not just "spending the night"...'

I couldn't bring myself to believe Lamia's assurances. Continuing to grumble, I'd protested:

"What would you even know about it?"

In my previous life, I'd experienced marriage—however disastrous. But Lamia, who spoke as though she were worldly and experienced, most likely knew nothing.

Someone with no home to return to typically had no family waiting, no husband to greet them.

But Lamia had said something completely unexpected.

"I know because I've been married."

She'd chuckled with supreme confidence.

"Besides, I've had several lovers."

"...What?"

Lamia had winked at me with a mischievous expression.

"I'll explain in detail later if you're curious. Anyway, this is advice from someone with genuine experience, so trust me. And of course, the master will treat you well! I'm going now!"

She'd waved cheerfully and swept out of the room.

I'd gaped at the door she'd disappeared through.

'Marriage... multiple lovers... what on earth is her true identity?'

'And she mentioned knowing magic, too.'

According to her, it wasn't powerful magic—just minor illusion spells that could briefly alter someone's appearance.

She'd claimed that even the Magic Tower, which supposedly recruited anyone with magical talent, had rejected her because her abilities were too trivial.

The fragmentary glimpse Lamia had offered into her past was so provocative that I'd found myself momentarily distracted from thoughts of Callius, instead seriously contemplating her mysterious background.

Then I'd been startled to realize that Callius had already entered the room.

"Oh!"

I'd jumped up from where I sat on the bed as our eyes met—he stood beside me, watching with quiet amusement.

"What were you thinking about so intently?"

At Callius's gentle, teasing tone, I'd panicked and blurted out the first thing that came to mind:

"I was thinking about my relationship with Callius, not about Lamia!"

The words tumbled out in a rush, and I'd frozen in horror.

'Wait. Wait just a moment.'

'Why do I have this horrible feeling that I just said the exact opposite of what I meant?'

'I meant to say I was thinking about Lamia's marriage, not about Callius—didn't I?'

I'd looked up at Callius with wide, mortified eyes.

He stood speechless, his expression clearly asking whether he'd heard correctly.

I felt as though I were melting from head to toe with embarrassment.

Without another word, I'd yanked the blanket over my head and laid down flat as a corpse.

'It's a dream. This is all just a dream.'

But even in this supposed dream, why could I hear his quiet laughter so clearly beside me?

I kept my eyes squeezed shut, feigning unconsciousness.

Fortunately, Callius didn't tease me further about my slip of the tongue. If he had, I genuinely wouldn't have been able to endure the shame.

Then I heard the soft rustle of fabric near my ear.

'What...?'

Curiosity overcame embarrassment. I cracked one eye open slightly to investigate the sound—and found myself locking gazes with Callius, who had unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it halfway down his shoulder.

"Ah, would it be all right if I removed my shirt? I've grown accustomed to sleeping without one, so I'd prefer to do so at least in the bedroom."

"...!"

I clapped my hand over my open mouth.

Callius stood there frozen—unable to either remove or replace his shirt—his broad shoulders and firm chest half-exposed as I remained speechless.

In that moment, everything Lamia had instructed flashed through my mind. She'd given me very detailed guidance on what to do after he entered the room and lay down beside me.

'Oh, I feel dizzy...'

I closed my eyes and pressed my hand to my forehead.

"Chloe?"

"J-just... do whatever you want..."

I said it with my eyes still tightly shut.

'Right. Let's just get this over with quickly.'

With that resolution firmly in mind, I laid down flat with my eyes closed and my body deliberately relaxed.

Soon I felt Callius settling onto the bed, his shirt removed.

The blanket lifted slightly, and the warm, smoky air from the fireplace seeped beneath it.

The covers rustled with each small movement he made.

'He's lying down...!'

I don't think I'd been this nervous even on my first night with Viscount Pelsus. Why was I so anxious now?

Back then, I'd merely felt awkward and uncomfortable about sharing a bed with a man I barely knew. Afterward, it had only been fear.

'Fortunately, I never shared a room with Viscount Pelsus after that first encounter.'

But now everything felt completely different.

'My heart feels like it's going to burst out of my chest.'

I clasped my hands together anxiously, waiting for what would happen next.

But Callius remained unexpectedly quiet.

After a long moment of silence, I cautiously opened my eyes again and glanced at Callius.

"Have you seen this?"

He sat propped against his pillow, holding up a piece of wood he was carving.

"...Yes?"

"I set out to carve a snow cat sculpture, but it's taking longer than I expected."

"Oh... yes..."

'Why are we suddenly discussing sculptures?'

He examined the carving with a serious expression and asked for my opinion.

"What do you think, Chloe? Does this look like a snow cat to you?"

I studied the piece he held out.

"I think the tail should be longer."

"Is that so?"

He listened attentively and used a quill from the bedside table to mark the desired tail length on the wood.

"This much?"

"A little longer than that."

"Like this, then?"

"Yes, exactly."

I'd been somewhat taken aback initially, but he seemed genuinely invested, so I found myself studying the sculpture seriously as well.

A sense of responsibility settled over me as he listened carefully to my suggestions and incorporated them into his modifications.

'He probably knows far more about snow cats than I do, yet he's listening to my opinion so earnestly.'

I grew a bit excited and began offering more observations without realizing it.

"I think it would look much more realistic if the ears were slightly more pointed. I noticed earlier that snow cats' ears are closer to triangles."

"Ah, now that you mention it!"

Without showing the slightest sign of annoyance, Callius picked up his chisel and carefully carved the rounded ears into sharper triangular points, just as I'd suggested.

"I followed your advice, and it does look much more like a snow cat now."

"It really does!"

After that, we conversed at length about how best to refine the piece.

"Wouldn't it be better if the paws were slightly larger?"

"You're absolutely right. Snow cats have large paws relative to their body size."

"Wow, you carved that so smoothly!"

"It's all thanks to your excellent direction."

"I think you need to work on the tail now."

"That's the most difficult part. Last time I attempted the tail, I ended up splitting it clean in two."

"Oh no! Be careful."

As we sat close together, chatting easily like this, my heart—which had been pounding frantically earlier—gradually calmed.

I watched Callius work the carving knife with a growing sense of relaxation.

The gentle scraping sound of wood being shaved was oddly soothing.

Then my gaze was gradually drawn to the muscles in his forearms, which flexed subtly with each movement of the knife.

I glanced back and forth between his arm and my own, then—unable to resist the sudden surge of curiosity—spoke up.

"Callius."

He looked at me.

His face, illuminated by the warm glow from the fireplace, held a soft golden radiance.

"If you don't mind... may I..."

I hesitated, suddenly uncertain.

But the question escaped before I could stop it:

"Can I touch you?"

The words hung in the firelit air between them—innocent in intent, yet carrying a weightneither of them had quite expected.

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