Chapter 90 : Training (7)

It’s more exhausting to be touched by Ayla even a little than to roll around so hard during the day.

I once researched sexual activity.

Well, you know…

Just in case I really ended up with Ayla, I figured I should at least know something.

I didn’t want to ruin our first night together.

If there’s one fortunate thing, it’s that I didn’t have any male friends to talk about those things with.

When I used to travel around with Ayla, no other guys bothered trying to get close to me.

After Ayla left and I left the dojo, most of the people I got to know were women rather than men.

I wasn’t close enough with my younger sibling to discuss things like that, and by the time we got closer, we were already mature enough that it would’ve been awkward to talk about it.

Besides, my sibling is reserved. If I brought up that kind of topic, they would probably be extremely embarrassed.

So, the good thing was that I wasn’t influenced by the over-the-top relationship stories boys my age liked to boast about.

Instead, I was able to learn in a much more objective and physiological way.

In most cases, the person who moves more during sexual activity is the man.

But that doesn’t mean the woman isn’t using her strength.

If moaning and sweating aren’t a form of exercise, then what are they?

There’s a general difference in average physical strength between men and women, and it varies from person to person, so I can’t say for sure—but judging from how my body feels, it’s certainly possible.

…That’s what I decided to think, anyway. I chose not to dwell on the fact that I only feel that way when Ayla touches me.

“Luna, I have something to say.”

Ayla’s voice echoed through the bathroom.

“Yes, please speak.”

“Luna, you are my personal maid, correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

I don’t want to give up on this.

To be honest, I’ve had plenty of embarrassing moments every day, but I’ve never once disliked them.

“And that’s why you’re washing my body, right?”

“…That’s right.”

“In that case, Luna… Do you want me to be embarrassed in public?”

“Ayla?”

“What if I don’t wash properly and end up smelling bad? Sure, right now there are only guests staying here, but what if we have to attend a ball someday? I’m the Countess, and since the Count is dead, I’m also the master of this estate.”

“Besides, we need to consider Seila’s education.”

Talking about Seila’s education wasn’t out of the ordinary for us, so it wasn’t strange for her to bring it up here.

But… why did it feel so off?

As I tried to figure out the source of that discomfort, Ayla’s voice followed.

“Seila will get married someday too.”

“Yes.”

“So, I’d like her to understand what it means to be a noble before that happens. If Seila ends up liking someone, that’s one thing—but if not, then the man she marries will most likely be a noble.”

I understood Ayla’s concern.

If they were planning to leave this place, there wouldn’t be a need to worry about that.

But if Seila was going to stay here, then it was a valid concern.

For nobles, getting married after twenty was considered relatively late.

Marriage for nobles was essentially a contract, and most had their marriage arrangements decided at birth—or at least a list of potential candidates.

Parents would send their children to banquets and tea parties to help them build connections.

Sometimes, nobles fell in love with people outside those lists, but the higher the noble’s rank, the lower the likelihood of that happening.

After Ayla gets married, she might move to another noble’s territory—or she might stay here longer, depending on who she marries.

Perhaps it would be better to bring in the second or third son of a lower-ranking noble as a live-in son-in-law.

That’s how noble families without sons often continued their lineage.

“No.”

But Ayla interrupted my deepening thoughts.

“What I mean is… I want Seila to know what kind of men might try to use her.”

Ayla’s voice was serious.

“I don’t want Seila to marry just any man.”

I see.

Ayla stayed here because she couldn’t abandon Seila.

She must have felt a sense of kinship.

Ayla also lost her mother when she was young, and her father never showed her any love.

But compared to others in similar situations, Ayla had been relatively lucky.

At least she was able to learn swordsmanship at the dojo and live the life she wanted—if only for a few years.

If Seila had grown up as a sheltered flower in a greenhouse, she would have been torn apart by the surrounding nobles the moment she was left alone.

Especially by the barons.

“If Seila truly loves someone, it doesn’t matter if he’s a commoner. We can think about titles later.”

But if her partner is really a commoner, things would get complicated because we’d have to figure out a way to grant him a title.

So it would be better if Seila ended up with a reasonably decent nobleman.

Preferably someone Seila herself chose. That’s what Ayla must have meant.

Seila was still just barely at an age where she would be treated as a child.

Under normal circumstances, she should already have been attending the birthday banquets of other children her age.

“So, I might have to attend those events someday, as Seila’s mother.”

“I see.”

“Yes, that’s how it is.”

The water in the bathtub rippled softly.

Ayla, who had been sitting with her back to me, glanced over her shoulder toward me.

My gaze inadvertently landed on her chest. Embarrassed, I quickly shifted my gaze away—but thankfully, Ayla didn’t seem to mind—

“So, shouldn’t I make sure I’m always clean? If Seila falls for someone, we wouldn’t want to make a bad impression on his parents.”

“…”

Is this really where this conversation was leading?

“Luna. Ever since you started washing me, you’ve only been washing certain parts of my body, right?”

“…”

“At first, you only washed my arms while I was sitting in the bathtub. Can you really say you were washing me?”

“But, Ayla…”

“Then you started washing my arms, underarms, and neck—but still not my whole body. There are plenty of places on the body that can give off an odor, you know that, right?”

There were times I wondered if Ayla even realized when she pressed her body against mine.

Even today, Ayla had rested her face on my chest while sitting with me on her lap.

I could still remember that scent.

The smell of a person’s sweat—but the atmosphere, the warmth, and Ayla’s soft, whispering voice—

Did Ayla mean that she wanted me to remember her scent?

“Or… should I get up now?”

“…No, Ayla.”

Carefully, I reached out my hand toward Ayla’s body.

And just like last time, I slowly began washing Ayla’s body.

Ayla’s skin was still soft and smooth. Honestly, I was worried that if I scrubbed too hard, it might damage her skin.

Well, I didn’t really have those thoughts when we were swinging swords at each other.

“Fufu.”

Ayla smiled as my hand brushed past her underarm.

Just like Ayla had done yesterday, I washed beneath her ribs.

To be honest, considering the ‘smell,’ I probably should have washed between and beneath them with my hands, but…

I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

Ayla didn’t bother to point that out.

Once I had washed her body with enough foam, Ayla suddenly spun around and sat facing me.

Then, leaning against the edge of the bathtub, she stretched her legs toward me.

I reflexively covered my stomach, but it wasn’t that she was trying to step on me.

Ayla’s foot rose above the water’s surface. Despite all the running and training she did, there were no noticeable calluses—her foot retained a beautiful shape.

In a way, that’s a kind of talent too.

Just like how I was able to defeat a dragon—an innate talent that came from the swordsmanship skills passed down through the bloodline of the Marquis family.

I found myself wondering if maybe one of her distant ancestors had been a fairy.

Then, I carefully took her foot in my hands.

Slowly, I began washing her foot with my hands.

A satisfied hum slipped from Ayla’s lips.

Ayla naturally rested her feet and legs on my body.

While washing her right leg, I worked my way up from the ankle to her calf.

When my hand passed behind her knee, Ayla’s body flinched slightly.

I hesitated for a moment, wondering if I should continue up to her knee—but then, I gently lowered her leg.

Again, Ayla didn’t say anything.

After finishing the other leg as well, Ayla opened her eyes slightly and gazed quietly at me.

Her lips curled into a faint smile.

A teasing expression.

It was the kind of look that seemed to say, “Coward.”

…And I couldn’t even argue with that look.

Because I was a coward.

A man who couldn’t even muster the courage to tell a single woman that he loved her—running away, over and over, until he ended up standing before a dragon.

There probably isn’t another coward like me in the world.

Since I didn’t respond, Ayla eventually smiled and reached out her hand toward me.

I silently turned my back to her.