Night fell.
Dressed in a pure-white bathrobe, Iver carried a glass bottle in one hand and the freshly opened wine bottle in the other as he leisurely walked over to the bathtub.
He placed the glass bottle on the nearby rack. Then he poured the ruby-red wine into a glass already filled with ice and handed it to Isabel in the bathtub.
Isabel bashfully raised her knees and covered her chest with her right hand. Her slender, fair hand gracefully accepted the wineglass.
"Now that things have come this far, why are you still covering yourself?"
Iver teased her as he poured himself a glass as well.
He pulled over a chair and sat down right beside the bathtub.
"...You're such a busybody."
Isabel spoke softly. She propped up her upper body slightly from the bathtub and gently clinked glasses with Iver.
The glasses chimed crisply as they collided. The crystal-clear, ruby-like wine swayed in the glasses. When hers tilted, a little spilled onto Isabel's collarbone and chest, and Iver reached over to wipe it away.
"Mmh..."
Perhaps because she had been soaking in hot water, Isabel's cheeks were flushed. She did not move Iver's hand away. Instead, she pinned it down with her elbow and covered the back of his hand with her own.
"...There are still people outside."
She spoke softly before shrinking back beneath the surface of the water.
Although Iver had shut the door quickly when carrying her in, the Queen Guard sent by the Pope had not been able to follow them directly into the room.
But it was their duty, and they could not simply step aside. All they could do was surround Isabel's bedroom.
Iver raised an eyebrow. He did not withdraw his hand, but instead slowly caressed her. "You know there are