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Chapter 7
After coming out of the bath and entering the room following the servant’s guidance, Deiton quickly turned his body—
But he froze in place.
“Where are you going?”
A small figure blocked the doorway.
“You were just about to leave, weren’t you?”
Deiton carefully chose his words as he looked at Princess Melissa, who was standing in front of the doorknob, blinking innocently and refusing to move.
If anyone who knew his usual habit of speaking first and thinking later saw him now, they would have been shocked by how restrained he was.
“Why is the maid guiding me here?”
“Because you’re going to sleep with me.”
Deiton instinctively took a half-step back.
No matter how carefully he chose his words, he still could not understand this princess.
What is this? Why am I stepping back?
His face remained composed, but he quietly increased the distance between them, showing subtle caution.
“I’m not going to eat you.”
Deiton took another step back.
“Ah?”
“….”
A man of such large build—yet flinching at her gaze.
It was both amusing and oddly endearing. This was a side of him unseen in the original story where he always maintained a stern presence.
‘What did I even say to make him react like that? Suspicious guy.’
Still… Deiton wasn’t bad.
I slowly looked him over from head to toe.
Long legs, a sturdy upper body befitting a war hero, broad shoulders.
Dark, ruby-like eyes. Black hair.
And most of all, a naturally impressive physique that couldn’t be achieved through training alone…
While I was briefly admiring him, I noticed he had stepped back even further.
“Why are you moving away more and more?”
As if I were trying to close the distance.
When I stepped forward, he stepped back. When I stepped forward again, he widened the gap again.
“Just now… you were looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“That… from bottom to top…”
“Bottom to top?”
“…Never mind.”
Deiton exhaled and shook his head.
“I’ll ask for another room.”
“Sit.”
I was already seated at the table and gestured for him to sit opposite me.
It was late for tea, but there was a teapot and cups steaming gently on the table.
Nothing was better for easing tension and fatigue.
When I used to go to therapy in my past life, I never skipped this routine no matter how tired I was.
A warm bath with aromatic oils, then tea.
There was nothing better for relaxing both body and mind.
“You have something else you want to ask me about besides the mine, don’t you?”
Deiton sat down, watching me quietly.
“How did you know about the mine in Ine, and about me…”
Those red eyes met mine directly before he lowered his gaze first.
A faint laugh escaped me.
“I didn’t know you had a habit of seeking confirmation for everything.”
Clink.
The tea cup filled with a clear sound.
“Or are you not in that much of a hurry yet?”
“Not in a hurry?”
“Sleepwalking.”
One of the early symptoms of his post-traumatic stress disorder.
Locking the door didn’t help. His body would open it out of habit—or break it—and wander the mansion.
With a sword sharp enough to cut through steel.
Servants had naturally been terrified, and there had even been injuries.
“I just had a bad dream,” he had said to cover it up.
But when it happens every night, rumors are inevitable.
A war hero wandering through battles that were already over.
If it continued, he would slowly fall apart.
“Those dead you’re being chased by—I will protect you from them.”
“And the cure?”
“…There’s no quick cure for this.”
“I understand.”
Deiton stood, looking thoughtful.
I smiled.
“But there is a way to get through tonight safely.”
“What is it?”
I placed a rope on the table.
The problem was simple.
He leaves the room—or breaks out of it.
“Then just make it so he can’t move.”
“…What are you saying?”
“I prepared everything.”
You can trust me.
That night—
“I still think a gag might have been unnecessary.”
He hadn’t screamed even once. He only struggled.
“I truly dislike you, Princess.”
“Of course you do.”
The next morning.
“But you didn’t leave the room last night.”
“…So the method you mentioned was this?”
“You ate your breakfast, didn’t you?”
“You were waiting for me?”
“Why are you making that face again?”
“…Never mind. I’ll be unable to visit the estate for a few days due to mine preparations.”
“Report to me directly.”
“Yes. I will come for reports.”
Before leaving, Deiton briefly glanced at the plate.
“…I will send the Duke’s chef. Dinner will improve starting tonight.”
“?”
He left without looking back.
I tapped the plate with my fork.
So bland.
Only now did I realize something.
The food here wasn’t “simple because of the era.”
It was just… low quality.
I looked at Lena.
“Be honest.”
“…It’s similar to what lower-class commoners eat! Well, a bit more minimal… but the ingredients are good!”
So that’s why Deiton had been glaring at the servants.
‘Using food as a form of petty control, huh. How classic.’
A dull kind of harassment.
Boring.
