Home/I confined you, but I have no ill will/ch 22

22.

Leonhardt—his young nephew—worried him.

The very fact that someone would harm Kite, who normally supported and protected the Emperor, meant someone was targeting the Emperor. So when the time was right, he intended to leave the basement—though not alone. Ibelin would come with him. She had the ability to see the future and had been trained by Baron Frillie—why would he leave her behind? Where else would he find someone so useful?

---

Unaware of Kite's thoughts, Ibelin had retreated to her room and was thrashing about.

"Agh! Agh!"

She cried out like a crow, then stifled herself for fear the neighbors would hear.

"Th-that womanizer!"

Even if it was just pretending to be lovers—what did he think he was doing? No wonder people kept clinging to him despite all his atrocities.

Ibelin stomped her feet, then collapsed limply onto the bed.

"Grandfather."

Your benefactor is too hard to deal with. I know I should be able to brush things off, but I just can't.

Truth be told, Ibelin had never seen anyone as handsome as Kite. And now that man was clinging to her, whispering sweetly.

"No, that's not it—it's just a pose. A pose."

To calm herself, Ibelin recalled all the things Kite had done. Breaking a young lord's leg for no reason, making a lady cry. A man who hurled harsh words without hesitation when displeased.

This whole thing was just him trying to tease her.

"Since when do lovers act like that?"

She had never observed real lovers, but this wasn't it. Ibelin firmly resolved to protest to Kite. She wouldn't fall for his games anymore.

That's what she thought—and yet.

"Darling."

Ibelin stood frozen, staring at Kite. His hair was dripping wet, and his upper body was bare.

"Wh-what are you doing?"

"What else? I need to wash."

Yes—wash. He was right to wash. Ibelin squeezed her eyes shut in alarm and backed away.

"Water's dripping from my hair."

"Th-there's a towel."

"Where?"

"In the bathroom."

"Oh, is there? I couldn't find it."

Don't lie! There were several towels right in plain sight—how could he not find them?

"Can't you get one for me? At this rate, your benefactor will catch a cold."

A curse nearly burst from the depths of her chest.

What a jerk!

Ibelin narrowed her eyes and made her way to the bathroom by dim sight. She fumbled along the wall, found the drawer, pulled out a towel, and immediately threw it at Kite.

"Here's your towel!"

But Kite didn't catch it.

"I missed."

Right—throwing it too hard might make it hard to catch. Ibelin took a deep breath and got another towel.

"If you don't hand it to me, I might drop it again."

What utter nonsense. Still, his intent to refuse unless handed it directly was clear. Ibelin crept toward Kite like a wary cat approaching a stranger.

"Here—your towel."

"Thanks. You can open your eyes, you know."

"...You shouldn't show your bare body to others."

"Are we strangers?"

Kite quickly caught Ibelin as she tried to turn and flee. He pulled her closer, and her back became damp from his wet chest. The thought of turning around and seeing his bare body made her freeze.

"H-help me!"

At her involuntary cry, Kite laughed out loud.

"Who said anything about killing you?"

"Sniff—I'm going to die."

"It's fine—you won't die from seeing a naked body."

"This is sexual harassment!"

Only then did Kite release her.

"Sorry—I was just joking around."

He made a sullen face, like a dejected puppy, and Ibelin almost said it's alright.

"E-even so, that kind of joke isn't okay."

Still, water continued to drip from Kite's hair. Ibelin sighed deeply and went back to the bathroom to fetch more towels.

"Sit down here for now."

Kite obediently did as she said.

Once he was seated on the bed, Ibelin wrapped a towel around his bare body. After confirming he was fully covered, she patted his hair dry with another towel. He had long golden hair, finer and more beautiful than her own.

"You should dry your hair properly."

"Mm."

Kite closed his eyes lightly and left everything to her.

"You have nice hair."

"The higher your swordsmanship, the tougher your body becomes—including your hair."

"Then what if a knight is bald?"

"That means they lack ability."

A cruel remark—but it made sense. Come to think of it, her grandfather had also had thick, beautiful hair. She wished she had inherited that—but hers was average. Not sparse, not thick, just a plain brown.

"Alright, done!"

"Already?"

"I'm quick. The longer the hair, the longer it takes."

"I see."

Kite slipped his arms out from the towel, touched his nearly dry hair, and smiled.

"Not bad."

"Right?"

"From now on, you can dry my hair."

"Excuse me?"

Ibelin rubbed her ear as if doubting it.

"I mean—do it every day."

"Me?"

"Yes—you."

The man everyone called a madman was surprisingly playful. And he seemed to have no hesitation in expressing that to Ibelin. Whether this was his true nature, or whether he'd grown comfortable because she was Baron Frillie's granddaughter—she didn't know. But it was Ibelin who suffered for it.

"I'll teach you how to do it."

"I can't."

Kite said firmly.

"When have I, raised so delicately, ever dried my own hair?"

Thinking of Kite's childhood—he was far from delicately raised. Back then, his hair had been short, but he had taken care of himself. There was no way he didn't know how to dry his own hair.

Ibelin knew that too, but she couldn't easily contradict him.

His smiling face was so endearing that she couldn't bring herself to refuse. Even though she knew it was excessive teasing.

Ibelin hesitated, then slowly backed away. She executed a tactical retreat. As she scurried away, she heard Kite's laughter behind her—cheerful and amused.

---

She didn't know how the days passed. After going down to the basement in the morning to give Kite his meal, she would be kept there until evening. She often tried to escape midway, but Kite was always quicker.

"You need to get used to it quickly."

He often said things like that. Get used to playing lovers—it was a task more monumental and difficult than any she had ever faced.

"How am I supposed to get used to this?"

"Everyone else does it."

Did real lovers really act like this? Ibelin had her doubts.

"Really, they do."

Still, Kite didn't stop his brazen behavior. And before she knew it, the birthday was right around the corner.

That morning was different from the others. An inexplicable unease had been pounding in her chest all day. She prepared breakfast and went down to the basement—where Kite, fully dressed, was looking at her.

"Morning."

It was the first greeting in a long time without that tiresome darling.

"I think it's time for me to go out."

Go out—where? You were supposed to stay here until the birthday passed!

Panicking, Ibelin tried to grab Kite—but this time, he didn't let himself be caught.

"Everyone has something precious to them. And I want to protect my nephew."

Kite's words brought someone to mind—Leonhardt von Pabeln, the Emperor of the Empire. The young Emperor, now fourteen, was surely the nephew Kite wanted to protect.

It's dangerous!

"Even so, I have to go. If they're trying to harm me, that means my nephew is in danger too."

Maybe that wasn't true. Still, Kite's mind didn't seem to be changing.

"Ah—and there's my welcoming party."

Who?

Around then, Ibelin opened her eyes, breaking out in a cold sweat.

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