Chapter 73 : I Don’t Want to Watch It

Droplets slid silently down the marble angel wings, merging into the pool without a ripple. The grand bath was eerily quiet, thick rose-scented mist cloaking everything in a hazy white veil, blurring the world into a dreamlike haze.

Ailiya stood frozen, the warm water lapping at her chest, yet a chill shot from her feet to her scalp. Her face, ears, and neck flushed red, as if boiled. Her heartbeat thundered, each thump shaking her sanity.

She’d seen it. In that fleeting moment when the mist parted, she clearly saw the figure on the jade steps—Lady Liliane.

Wasn’t she done bathing? The maid had said so! Ailiya’s mind spiraled. Is this a prank? Did the maid set me up to look like a creep, just to get me kicked out? What’s her angle? Or… a test from Liliane to gauge my loyalty? No, what noble uses their body for that?! Maybe some bizarre aristocratic hospitality she didn’t know? Her thoughts ran wild, dizzying her.

“Ailiya?” Liliane’s cool, puzzled voice cut through the mist.

“Eek!” Ailiya yelped, ducking underwater, facing away, wishing she could burrow into the pool’s floor. “S-Sorry! I didn’t mean to!” Her voice trembled, near tears. “I thought it was empty! The maid said you were done… I didn’t see anything, I swear!”

She flailed toward the edge, desperate to flee this mortifying scene. “I’m not like Aurora! I’ve got no interest in your body! I’m leaving!”

“No need to go,” Liliane said, her tone flat.

Ailiya froze, a giant question mark forming. Not leave? She’s not mad? Or… is this sarcasm, and she’s got an ice blade ready to gut me?

“I told the maid to bring you,” Liliane continued, water rippling softly.

Ailiya’s jaw dropped. She… planned this? Louder than seeing Liliane was the sound of water parting. Through the mist and her peripheral vision, Ailiya glimpsed Liliane rise, water sliding down her silky skin, pooling at her collarbone before trailing off. She dried her arm with a soft towel, each move graceful, like a sacred ritual.

Liliane stepped deeper into the mist, sitting again. “If you caught a cold caring for me, I’d feel guilty,” she explained. “I thought this bath was big enough, the mist thick enough, to avoid awkwardness.”

A hint of resignation crept in. “Seems we still saw each other.”

“Finish soaking,” she added. “I won’t look.”

Ailiya’s inner scream echoed. Who cares if you look?! My beanpole figure’s got nothing to see! Sneaking a glance, she caught Liliane’s perfect curves through the haze. Unlike you…

Unaware of Ailiya’s turmoil, Liliane offered, “Relax fully, lean against the wall, let the water cover your shoulders—it’s more comfortable.”

Blushing but curious, Ailiya complied. The warmth eased her tension. “Then, slowly…” Liliane began, trailing off.

Silence fell, the mist heavy with unspoken tension. “Thank you, Ailiya,” Liliane said suddenly, “for coming today.”

The unexpected gratitude jolted Ailiya. Flustered, she turned, hiding her racing heart with complaints. “If Clara hadn’t sent me, you think I’d bother with a fussy patient like you?” Glaring through the mist, she huffed, “I’ve said it a million times—this is my job! If you wanna thank me, apologize for not staying in bed! Now we’re soaked, and my clothes are ruined!”

Liliane’s light chuckle came through the fog. “That’s because you’re too useless to stop me.”

“I—!” Ailiya choked, cheeks puffing. “You’re the master, I’m the maid! You could order me to roll like a dog, and I’d have to! How could I stop you?!”

Liliane didn’t reply. The mist hid her expression, her figure still. Ailiya’s anger fizzled into unease. Did I go too far? She’s still sick… She fidgeted, tracing ripples in the water, debating an apology.

Then Liliane spoke, her voice stripped of jest, heavy with fatigue. “Even I can’t always walk the right path or make choices true to my heart.”

Ailiya stilled.

“Carrying the Winter family’s centuries-old legacy, shouldering the kingdom’s future, walking a path paved by countless expectations and interests, with no room for error…” Her voice echoed softly. “Even Liliane von Winter has weaknesses, struggles, and fears of straying onto the wrong road.”

“…Can’t tell,” Ailiya said honestly. To her, Liliane was always right.

“When I was six…” Liliane began, ignoring her. “An old woman nearby made me a beautiful doll from fabric she’d saved for years. It was my birthday gift. But I didn’t play with dolls anymore. I tossed it aside, saying, ‘I don’t like it.’”

Ailiya listened, silent.

“Later, I learned her children had taken her home, and she worked tirelessly, cared for by kind strangers. That doll was likely her most precious possession. I hurt her deeply.”

Ailiya searched for words, finally blurting, “You were awful.”

A chill pierced the mist, locking onto her. Ailiya backpedaled. “Y-You were six! Kids mess up, it’s normal!”

“It was a mistake,” Liliane said coldly. “I never found her again… or apologized.”

A heavy silence settled. Ailiya felt her skin prune.

With a splash, Liliane stood. “Thank you for listening to my nonsense. Let’s go—any longer, and we’ll faint.”

Her slender figure faded toward the changing room. As she neared the door, Ailiya called out, “Lady Liliane.”

Her voice was soft but clear. “Back in your room, I have something for you.”

The bath’s crystal lights gleamed, the ambiguous mist parting. Liliane turned, meeting Ailiya’s calm, water-reflecting eyes.