MTHBV 33

Chapter 33

Tom Jekin was indignant.

He, more than anyone else, knew exactly what had happened between those two.

To be precise—he knew better than anyone else that nothing had happened.

The previous night, Rosy had been drinking wine without pause until she eventually fell asleep, completely drunk, and it was Ainar who carried her all the way back to her room in his arms.

Even though Tom had pleaded that he would take care of it so Ainar didn’t have to do something so menial himself, Ainar insisted, stubbornly carrying Rosy back to the cabin.

The way Ainar looked at the sleeping Rosy—like he was cradling something precious—left Tom unable to do anything but follow behind him.

And then, the problem erupted.

Whether it was the rocking of the ship or the alcohol she had practically poured into herself—Rosy, still nestled in Ainar’s arms, suddenly grabbed his shirt collar and vomited on him.

Tom would never forget the suffocating silence of that moment.

Man or woman—who in this world would dare vomit right onto the clothes of a direct descendant of the Portrey family?!

…Bring clothes.

Thankfully, Ainar hadn’t hurled Rosy to the ground, nor had he barked orders at Tom, but his voice had been icy as stone.

Tom immediately ran to fetch fresh clothes for both Ainar and Rosy—thank goodness he had prepared replacements in advance.

But then—

Get out.

That night, when Tom first entered the room to check on Rosy, she had rolled over and yelled at him for being noisy before kicking him out. And now—

“Are you deaf, Tom?”

—Ainar was throwing him out as if he didn’t want anyone else to see Rosy.

As if they were lovers.

Realizing where his thoughts were going, Tom flinched, bowed deeply, and stammered,

“M-my apologies! I’ll leave the clothes here!”

Then—bang!

In his panic, Tom slammed the door shut behind him and vanished.

“…He’s gone?”

Only then did Rosy push away the blanket wrapped around her and sit up.

The first thing she saw was Ainar’s furious face.

“What possessed you to show your face at that moment, Rosy?”

“…Huh?”

“Looking like that, of all things—!”

Ainar stared down at her in disbelief.

Her crumpled dress and disheveled appearance somehow held a strangely dangerous allure—provoking the basest parts of a man’s instincts.

Even though he knew the faint marks on her dress were from hastily cleaned vomit, he couldn’t help it.

Irritated by his own gaze drifting where it shouldn’t, Ainar sharply turned his head away.

“If we’re talking about being disheveled, Sir Manager, you’re far worse than I am.”

Rosy muttered as she looked at his bare, naked upper body. Ainar shot her a glare, as if to ask if that was really something she should be saying.

Rosy quickly turned her head away.

“…Sorry. I was just embarrassed, so I said whatever came to mind.”

A sigh fell onto her head from above.

Feeling like a scolded child, Rosy muttered under her breath,

“…Anyway, acting like that will make Tom misunderstand.”

“Misunderstand? About what?”

Ainar casually picked a shirt from the pile Tom had brought and pulled it on.

Rosy’s face flushed as she answered,

“Th-that… what if he misunderstands and thinks something happened between us!”

She said it outright, even as her face burned.

“I may not have experience, but I’m not ignorant. Nothing happened last night… right?”

“…”

Ainar didn’t answer her, but after a moment, his expression cooled.

“Wash up. Your clothes are here. Join me in the dining hall afterward.”

…Of course.

Rosy could tell the answer from that reaction alone and nodded, annoyed despite herself.

He must have been teasing her again—wanting to watch her squirm.

It was infuriating and comforting at the same time.

Still… even if nothing happened, he did take care of me.

He had looked after her when she remembered nothing, let her sleep in his room, and shielded her disheveled appearance from Tom’s eyes.

Rosy felt her irritation dissolve more quickly than she liked.

Rosy sat in the ship’s deck restaurant overlooking the sea, taking a bite of the veal steak before her. The juices burst in her mouth, savory and rich.

Ainar chuckled quietly at the sight of Rosy stuffing meat into her small mouth.

“Is the meal to your liking?”

“Yes, very much.”

Her enthusiasm pleased him. He sipped his tea, and Rosy tilted her head.

“But why aren’t you eating, Sir Manager?”

She had a whole steak, but Ainar only had tea.

“I don’t usually eat breakfast.”

“Now that you mention it, most nobles seem like that.”

Rosy thought of the Kikkern Count’s household.

The Count occasionally breakfasted alone on busy days, but the Countess and Lady Lily only woke near midday, starting their day with tea and sweets.

Ainar spoke lightly.

“You talk as if it has nothing to do with you.”

He still didn’t believe she was actually a commoner.

Even after seeing Mayblin verbally abuse her yesterday, he doubted it. After all, Rosy was still eating with impeccable etiquette—using her fork and knife correctly, a napkin draped neatly over her lap.

Probably some low-ranking countryside noble, he reasoned.

That would explain why a capital noble like Mayblin treated her with such disdain.

“Pardon? What did you say?”

“Nothing. More importantly, we have a very interesting event planned later. Have you heard about it?”

“A… fun event?”

“Yes.”

Ainar leaned in, confidence shining in his voice.

Rosy blinked. Her life already felt luxurious enough just sitting here—what more could there be?

Seeing her curiosity, Ainar continued,

“This cruise isn’t famous only for its sunsets, sunrises, or sea parties, Rosy.”

“No?”

“There’s a marketplace held exclusively on this ship. Invitation-only. You can’t join just because you want to.”