You Didn't Ask, Either?

Warm steam drifted across the domed ceiling of the ornate bathroom. The gilded copper bathtub was filled with warm water mixed with rose essential oil, and a layer of fine white bubbles floated on the surface.

With the help of the three women, Altair stepped into the tub, and the warm water immediately rose to his waist.

His sprain had already healed after he took the potion Hether had given him. He had kept up the appearance of being unable to move on his own only to put on an act for outsiders.

As Altair felt the three women begin to gently wash his shoulders, neck, and back with even pressure, he experienced a level of comfort he had never known before. He closed his eyes and began to enjoy it.

Altair wasn't surprised by Freya's desire. Everyone had desires, and her choice was nothing unusual.

In the end, Altair had agreed to make a deal with her. It wasn't a big deal to begin with. Becoming a Beyonder was no challenge for him; all he needed to do was pay a tiny amount of insignificant materials.

Irene's actions, however, left Altair bewildered. She had no motive for doing it, and her heart was as calm as still water.

As for Vera, that silly girl really was just silly. It was only after entering the washroom that she realized Altair was different.

Once he was clean, Irene woke Altair and brought over the linen bath towel she had warmed beforehand. She gently wrapped him in it and dabbed the water from his body, her movements so careful that not a drop splashed.

Altair glanced at Vera, who had come out with him, shook his head, and said, "What's this? Have you started keeping your distance from me now that you've found out who I am?"

Vera lowered her head, not daring to meet Altair's eyes. "Vera didn't mean to distance herself from Altair. Vera just feels like what happened tonight wasn't real."

It really was a lot for Vera to process. They had been young ladies who lived and ate together, and now one of them had turned out to be a man. It was hard to accept.

Before the last two women had even come out of the washroom, Altair had already lain down on the bed to rest. He wasn't in a hurry when it came to matters between men and women.

When Freya and Irene came out, they saw Vera standing to the side and Altair lying on the bed.

Only when they came closer did they realize Altair had fallen asleep. Freya gave Vera a helpless look, then simply took off her nightgown, revealing her smooth skin, and slipped beneath the covers.

After Irene turned off the lights, she found Vera by the moonlight, took her hand, and led her to bed to rest.

The night was utterly quiet, with only the soft rustling of the sheets coming from the bed.

At dawn, when the sky had just begun to brighten beneath a veil of mist, dew still clung to the rose trellises. A breeze sent tiny droplets pattering down onto the neatly trimmed lawn.

A gardener in a white apron bent to prune the rose branches, his metal shears opening and closing in the cool morning mist.

The glass roof of the greenhouse gleamed in the rising sun. Inside, the tropical orchids bloomed in vivid colors, their fragrance mingling with the freshness of the dew as it drifted into the bedroom.

The canaries in their gilded cages began to sing, one call after another.

The outskirts of the palace in Bexland gradually came to life.

For instance, the kitchen was already bustling with activity. The staff were preparing breakfast for the nearly three hundred nobles attending the banquet.

"Where are the eggs? Who took them?"

"Oh, no, no, that's not how you arrange the plate. You should do it like this."

Once the Crimson Moon had fully set and the sun had risen, the corridors began to ring with the morning wake-up bell.

Hearing it, Altair slowly opened his eyes and looked around. The three women were already awake.

Altair got up and went straight into the washroom. He couldn't sleep in these next couple of days. If anyone else found out, he'd become a laughingstock, and they might even accuse him of disrespecting the Royal Family.

When he came out of the washroom, he found that the women had gotten up too. As he approached, the three took turns helping him get ready.

They had to dress themselves as well as Altair, and fortunately, the servants' attire at the banquet was subject to uniform requirements. Otherwise, choosing their clothes alone would have taken a long time.

Altair was still agonizing over what to choose for breakfast when a greeting came from behind him.

"Good morning, Count Altair."

"Has your ankle healed?"

Altair turned and saw the young woman before him. He smiled. "Good morning, Audrey."

"It's almost completely healed. At least, it won't affect my ability to walk normally."

"You seem to be in a good mood today."

Audrey smiled at Altair. "Thanks to you. When Father came home last night, he was in a wonderful mood, so I took the opportunity to ask him for a little something I needed."

Curious about Audrey, Altair asked, "Really? What good thing happened to Earl Hall last night that had anything to do with me?"

Audrey made no secret of it. "I'm not sure. When I left last night, he was preparing to discuss something with Count Strauss."

Strauss must have managed to get something from Uncle Leif.

After choosing their food, the two left the dining area together. Audrey didn't plan to return to her parents, and instead chose a nearby table with Altair to eat.

Watching Audrey's elegant table manners, Altair began to eat slowly as well.

After leaving the dining hall, Altair returned to his room for a while. Vera, Freya, and Irene had already returned.

He casually asked, "How was breakfast?"

Thanks to the tasty breakfast and Irene's words of comfort, Vera had returned to normal by then. She said happily, "Count Altair, this morning's breakfast was quite special. It didn't look very appetizing, but it tasted good."

Sometimes, Altair really envied Vera, the eternal optimist.

After changing into a skirt suitable for going out, Altair left the room with the three women and headed for the hunting grounds. He didn't join the hunt, though, and instead went to the Observation Deck. After finding Hether, he casually sat down beside her.

Hether looked at Altair with a bright smile and asked, "How was the ball last night?"

Altair wasn't in the mood to answer. Instead, he asked, "How did you get out of the order to attend the ball last night? I'm sure you weren't there."

Hether put on a serious expression and lowered her voice as though embarrassed. "You know how it is with women. There are a few days every month when we don't feel well."

Altair didn't believe a word of it. "Then why didn't you tell me I could use that excuse?"

Hether turned her head and shook it, replying casually, "You didn't ask, either."

Hether's words made Altair see red. Because he hadn't asked, he'd spent two hours being put on display like a "woolly baboon" the previous night.

"Good morning, Count Altair."

"Good morning, Mrs. Donovan."

Audrey, who had arranged to watch the hunt with Altair, entered the Observation Deck and greeted the two of them.

Hether turned to look. She was instantly captivated by Audrey, took her hand, and sat down with her, starting up some Girl's Playfulness.

Through a telescope with an ornately carved ivory handle, Altair could clearly see George III leading the nobles in Scarlet Hunting Attire at a leisurely pace on horseback below.

Their hunting guns had been polished to a shine, with carved ivory inlays on the stocks and cold light glinting off their barrels. Most were custom-made double-barreled shotguns from Bexland's finest workshops, costing as much as a hundred Gold Pounds—nothing like the crude firearms owned by ordinary country gentry.

George III rode at the front, with a dog handler leading more than a dozen purebred hounds close behind.

Only after the King fired the first shot did the other nobles gradually join the hunt in earnest.