Chapter 84
Mornings at any inn were chaotically bustling to the point of madness. The small inn where Isaac and Sasha had spent the night was no different. From the first-floor kitchen came the rich aroma of frying eggs. At the tables scattered nearby, people worn out from the previous night's party sat one by one, spooning up soup.
Isaac had risen before the sun. When he awoke, the rain had fortunately stopped, so he retied his boots and left the room at once. Then, naturally, as if on patrol, he circled around the inn and the surrounding buildings before coming back inside.
Sasha was still fast asleep. Thinking it would be rude even to look at her sleeping form, Isaac returned midway and crept in and out with his back turned to the bed. He asked an employee he met in the hallway to bring Sasha's meal to the room in about an hour.
He went down to the first floor, sat among the drunkards from earlier, and quickly finished his meal as if simply getting it over with. Judging by how much they must have drunk last night, the people sitting nearby reeked of stale alcohol. Of course, to Isaac, that hardly qualified as a foul odor.
After nearly inhaling his breakfast, Isaac got up from his seat and exited the inn. He saw a familiar face—the coachman, Charles.
"Did you have a comfortable night?"
Leading a horse over to the carriage, Charles greeted him casually. Isaac nodded with a stony face and glanced at him sideways. No matter the situation, putting an unmarried master in the same room as him....
Thinking that far, Isaac suddenly looked down at his right hand as if he had just realized something. A glittering engagement ring was on his ring finger. Compared to Sasha's, it was on the simpler side, but it was unmistakably an ornate engagement ring on his finger. Good God. Looking at it now, it really didn't suit him at all.
Charles looked up at him with puzzled eyes as Isaac, who had been glaring at him, suddenly became restless.
"Was the room uncomfortable?"
"No, no. That's not it. ...When can we depart again?"
"The rain has stopped, but the roads are a mess. A tree has fallen near the village entrance, and people are clearing it. Probably once that's taken care of...."
"Good. We'll depart by noon at the latest."
Isaac's eyes darted about with an air of lingering discomfort.
"How are the carriage wheels? Should I help?"
"No, it's fine. Have you eaten? Or perhaps you'd like a bath?"
Unable to bear it, Charles tossed out suggestions as if giving him tasks.
At his suggestion, Isaac raised only his eyebrows with an expressionless face. Then he lifted his right arm and sniffed at it as he had done earlier.
"A bath would be good."
He was told that using the bathroom on the inner side of the inn's second floor required a separate fee. Isaac fished through his pocket and handed over some coins, and the inn employee cheerfully guided him over. Upon entering, he saw a copper tub placed in the center. Soon, it was filled with moderately warm water.
The employee handed Isaac soap and a dry towel, but in that brief moment, looked him up and down.
"If you pay one more ounce, I could scrub your back."
Isaac didn't answer. The employee showed little regret, as if he had known he would be refused, said to call if he needed anything, and left the bathroom. The moment Isaac confirmed the door was closed, he began undressing.
After his shirt, when he removed his pants, the cigarettes and matches given by a drunkard last night came out. Isaac stared blankly at the cheap cigarettes before roughly tossing them into a nearby bin.
When had he last smoked? Probably not since coming to the capital. He wasn't particularly addicted to smoking, but Isaac had a habit of reaching for cigarettes whenever he felt mentally cornered. With a sour expression, Isaac put the matches back in his pants pocket and removed the rest of his underwear.
The bathtub was small by his standards. In fact, it was hard to find a tub that fit him. When he roughly sat on the edge, sure enough, his toes stuck out above the water, so he had to sit with his knees bent. He sat hunched over, trying somehow to submerge his shoulders.
The water was warm, and considering it was a small inn, the bathroom was rather comfortable. Of course, compared to the bathroom given to him at Dilton Manor, it was crude.
Isaac took the soap, lathered it, and meticulously scrubbed his arms and legs. He had always been meticulous about self-care, but this time, without even realizing it, he put more effort into washing than usual. He also washed his hair diligently. With his eyes tightly closed, he focused on scrubbing his scalp until the lather overflowed, pooled at the tip of his nose, and dripped off.
When he felt his body was warmed and sufficiently cleaned, he rinsed the lather from his hair and straightened his body, which had been crouched in the tub. Next, he sprinkled white powder onto a crude toothbrush and began brushing his teeth. The powder smelled of salt and faint mint.
"I hear Mr. Hampshire's son is following my sister here too. Hm. Isn't it obvious? Like the lazy fools here, he seems to have an eye for women."
"Well, I must say it feels quite excessive that an outstanding woman like Miss Grayson has taken a liking to you."
Isaac chewed over words the lieutenant had once said to him. Of course, by now he knew in what sense that woman, Miss Grayson, had been watching him. She had merely been keeping an eye on his reasonably distinguished background and desperate circumstances.
He spat water and rinsed his mouth with clean water as he stared intently at the mirror before him. His chest and stomach, covered in scars, were visible. When he bent at the waist, his face appeared with the stubble that had grown rough overnight.
Isaac picked up the razor near the toothbrush and began to shave carefully.
Anyway, no matter how superficial the reason, to others he and Sasha were unmistakably engaged. And she was beautiful. Even aside from her well-tailored dresses and graceful bearing, she possessed beauty enough to capture people's attention at a glance.
Compared to her, he was wretched. The lieutenant hadn't called it "excessive" for nothing. Isaac stopped shaving and glared at himself in the mirror. His uniquely gloomy blue eyes glared back at him from within the glass.
Clack.
When an unwelcome noise came from behind, Isaac was combing back his wet hair while looking in the mirror. He had been imitating the other officers he usually mocked, trying to make a neat part, and ridiculing himself in the process.
"Your husband is already inside."
"...Ah, yes. ...Yes?"
At the woman's voice, Isaac clicked his tongue and quickly returned his hair to its original state. Then, turning only his head with an annoyed face,
"I told you I'm fine,"
he said.
"...Oh."
Sasha Grayson was standing there.
"Ah, sorry. The employee guided me here. I mean, we're registered as a married couple, right? So, I suppose that's why they let me in."
Holding her bath basket, Sasha spoke at three times her usual speed.
"...Sorry for disturbing you."
Without waiting for his answer, Sasha turned and quickly left.
Clack again. The bathroom door closed.
Isaac remained frozen in that posture for a long time even after she left.
"..."
Wind came in through a slightly open window nearby and brushed past his naked body, which was gradually drying. A chill surged up his spine.
Yet Isaac's entire body was burning bright red.
＊＊＊
As Isaac had expected, departure was only possible around noon. While Sasha finished her bath afterward and had a late meal, Isaac sat blankly under a tree outside the inn. He fumbled in his pants pocket out of habit and muttered a low curse.
'Fuck, I shouldn't have thrown them away.'
As Isaac stared vacantly into the air, imagining smoking an invisible cigarette, he saw Sasha, who had finished preparing, approaching the carriage with her bag.
Sasha approached the carriage with a bag in hand, her face blanker than usual. Charles was nowhere to be seen. Even so, instead of looking for Charles, Sasha naturally opened the carriage door and lifted her bag herself.
"Miss Grayson."
"Uh... Yes?"
Stopping mid-lift, Sasha turned her head with a face that still seemed somewhere far away. Whatever had been occupying her mind slipped out unfiltered. The moment she saw Isaac standing behind her—whenever he had approached—she stiffened for an instant.
"..."
"..."
A brief silence passed. As he watched her eyes widen looking up at him, Isaac thought he would rather just die on the spot.
"Let me help you."
"Ah, yes. Thank you."
The two exchanged words a beat too late, awkwardly fumbling along. When Sasha stepped to the right, Isaac followed to the right. Startled, Isaac stepped to the left, and this time Sasha stepped aside to the left.
Silence fell again.
"Here."
Sasha simply thrust the bag she was holding into his arms as if throwing it and stepped back. Isaac suppressed the urge to bury his face in the bag and die, and forced his mouth open.
"...Earlier."
"...Oh, yes."
Sasha quickly cut in as if telling him not to speak, but Isaac continued, anguished.
"I'm sorry for showing you something you shouldn't have seen."
"No, no. Goodness. Lieutenant."
The address directed at him had returned to "Lieutenant."
Sasha's eyes darted about as if flustered for a moment, but she soon returned to her usual composed expression and spoke to him.
"I'm the one who should be sorry. For barging in like that. I mean, that uh... No, the situation was unavoidable, right? You were undressed. Because you were bathing. You have to take off your clothes to bathe. Right?"
"..."
Isaac wanted to die even more.
"You saw."
"Pardon?"
My ass.
Isaac hadn't managed to say it aloud, but both of them knew exactly what it meant.
"I'm sorry."
When Isaac apologized again, Sasha quickly waved her hands.
"No, Lieutenant. Don't apologize. And what do you mean, something you shouldn't have seen? Not at all. It's natural. I mean, not that the situation was natural. It's a part everyone has. Right? Everyone has one. That uh... anyway, that thing."
If Miss Carol had been nearby, she would have stopped Sasha long ago.
But unfortunately, the only one approaching nearby was Charles.
"Shall I help you load the bag?"
As the two fell into suffocating silence once more, Charles came in at just the right timing and helped load the bag.
And passing by the young master and mistress whose faces were burning as if about to burst, he sat in the coachman's seat and merely thought, 'What a time to be young.'