…It seemed that even to him, going without a bath for an entire week was simply too unpleasant to endure.
Things appeared to be proceeding smoothly. I reached out my arm so he could take hold of it and rise.
Yet in that exact moment—
Smack!
…Of course. Naturally.
Callius shattered my expectations in an instant, striking my arm away with harsh force.
‘My, he has a heavy hand.’
Swallowing my grumbling inwardly, I spoke to him.
"…My Lord, reaching the bath requires navigating a dark corridor. Allow me to guide you."
"No need."
His reply was colder than the bite of a winter gale.
Good heavens. Has winter returned already?
Immediately afterward, I sensed his movement forward.
I listened closely, focusing intently on the rustle of his sleeping garments.
At first, he seemed to walk tolerably well on his own,
yet soon enough, a resounding thud echoed through the darkness.
The young master let out a brief groan upon crashing into something.
He then adjusted his heading, his steps turning in the opposite direction.
‘Huh? That isn’t the door.’
Before I could intercede, another heavy thud sounded nearby.
Callius collided against a wardrobe, a table, and other furnishings until his clothing snagged on the edge of a chair, sending him crashing to the floor with an almighty clatter.
"Ugh…"
He let out a faint whimper. I stepped toward the source of the noise.
"Take my arm, My Lord."
"No need."
"Then how do you intend to make your way?"
"I said there is no need! Do not touch me!"
Such remarkable stubbornness, truly.
Extending the tip of the cane upon which I leaned, I nudged him gently.
"What is this?!"
Startled, Callius batted the cane away violently.
"It is my cane."
"A cane?"
He let out a dry, incredulous laugh.
"Did you just poke me with that?"
Poke him?
Tilting my head slightly, I replied.
"It seemed you were averse to touching me. I reasoned that holding onto the cane instead of my arm would be acceptable, wouldn't it?"
I tapped the floor with the cane, sounding out its location to guide his hand.
Instead of taking hold, however, he questioned me in an icy tone.
"…And who permitted you to bring such an object in here?"
"Pardon?"
"Servants are forbidden from carrying any weapon inside the ducal family's bedchamber… Were you not taught even the most rudimentary training?"
A weapon?
I froze on the spot, utterly astonished.
Never before had the cane I used to discern obstacles and changes in the terrain been mistaken for a weapon.
True, in an extreme crisis one could thrust it into an enemy's eye, but even so…
"My Lord, this is no weapon; it is my eyes."
I explained, a hint of grievance seeping into my voice.
"I cannot see, and so I must keep it with me at all times."
"You cannot… see?"
Callius murmured into the dark, as if turning the words over in his mind.
A tremor of confusion and hesitation colored his voice.
Huh? Did no one inform him?
It appeared he had not the faintest inkling that I was blind.
Then again, even if he had been told, would a master who lay like a corpse all day have bothered listening in the first place?
I addressed Callius, who remained seated on the floor, seemingly at a loss for words.
"The Head Maid raised no objection to my cane… Pray, do not worry. You surely do not imagine I would strike you with it, do you?"
My employment is precious to me, after all.
Swallowing the rest of my thoughts, I brought the cane near him once more.
"Here. You stated you did not wish to take my arm, did you not? If we linger like this, the bathwater will turn cold."
And the other maids have fled, so there is no one else to reheat it, My Lord.
At my persistence, Callius gave an incredulous scoff.
"Can you truly… see nothing at all?"
"Pardon? As I mentioned just now, I cannot see…"
"That is not what I meant!"
Callius cut me off, shouting in sheer exasperation.
He then let out a deep exhale and abruptly seized the end of the cane.
What now? Does he intend to fling it away again?
I tensed, retreating a step, but the feared outburst did not occur.
Instead, I felt his weight bearing upon the cane as he struggled to his feet.
"…Well, will this suffice?"
He spoke in a tone heavy with reluctant surrender.
Drawing several deep, measured breaths, he muttered with exhausted irritation.
"A maid talking back and arguing…"
"Pardon? Me?"
"Is there another maid here besides you?"
"I merely answered the questions you asked…"
"Enough. Just walk."
Callius gave a nudge with the cane he gripped.
Tsk.
It felt terribly unjust. I had only responded because he asked.
Yet sensing that pressing the matter further would provoke genuine wrath,
I chose silence and turned toward the door.
The mansion of the Rivannion Duchy was renowned for its sheer grandeur and exquisite beauty.
Among its quarters, the western wing on the second floor of the main estate was once celebrated for its brightness and vitality, or so Tilda had shared with me.
As the residence of Callius, the legitimate heir to the dukedom,
it had been exceptionally splendid, teeming with lively staff attending to his needs.
Yet now…
It was as if every trace of warmth and vitality had vanished entirely, leaving nothing behind.
The windows were nailed shut with heavy wooden boards to prevent even a sliver of light from intruding.
Every entrance was barricaded, save for the single doorway guarded day and night by soldiers.
Thus, the young master's living quarters had lost their former luster,
reduced to a fortress of ice inhabited only by frost and silence.
With absolute darkness blanketing the halls, it was natural that no foot traffic ever passed through.
It was said that even the Duke of Rivannion, unable to find any remedy for his son's affliction, had ceased visiting this place long ago.
Did Callius comprehend his own predicament all too well? The man who had insisted he had no need of my assistance now followed my lead without the slightest resistance.
Perhaps, walking through this desolate corridor, a stark reality had settled upon him.
The realization that no one remained by his side except for this blind maid.
"We have arrived."
Before long, we reached the bathroom entrance.
I guided Callius inside, first checking the temperature of the tub. Fortunately, the water was still pleasantly warm.
"My Lord, the tub is right here. You may step inside."
"Understood. Now get out."
"Pardon? I will wait by the tub, so if you should require anything…"
"No need. Leave."
"Just as a precaution…"
"I said, leave!"
"Very well."
Naturally. That damnable obstinacy had not gone anywhere.
Conceding without further fuss, I turned toward the door handle.
Yet at that precise moment—
"Wait."
Callius called out abruptly.
"Yes, My Lord?"
"The soap."
"Pardon?"
"The soap. Where is it?"
…Good grief. One moment he was throwing me out, and the next he was unabashedly demanding the soap.
His sheer insolence was almost breath-taking.
Muffling a sigh deep within, I approached the tub once more.
Locating the soap dish whose placement I had committed to memory, I tapped against it with my hand.
"Here. Can you hear the sound?"
"I hear it. Now go."
"As you wish."
Ah, he is truly infuriating.
Frowning faintly, I pivoted away.
Just as I was about to slip out of the bathroom before this mercurial master could summon me again—
"Wait."
Before I had covered half the distance, his voice arrested me once more.
"The brush."
"Pardon?"
"Where is the brush?"
"Haaaah."
"…Did you just sigh at me?"
"I did not?"
Feigning innocent surprise, I silently raised my middle finger toward him before making my way back to the tub.
I tapped the surface beside the soap.
Sensing that this ridiculous routine would never conclude, I spoke up.
"My Lord, wouldn't it be better if I simply remained? In any case, you cannot see, and neither can I. What could you possibly be shy about?"
