Chapter 12: A Giant Cat and Warm Socks

Zeimer was the person who visited me most frequently. I didn’t have any particular complaints about it, but I occasionally worried about his schedule. There was often a sharp aura about him, as if he had just rushed back from somewhere in his outdoor clothes.

“Zeimer, where have you been?”

“Oh, just out putting in some manual labor.”

Zeimer replied casually while shedding his cape. I never quite understood what that recurring phrase meant, but I just let it slide. I had a groundless faith that he would tell me everything I needed to know without hiding a thing.

Tossing his cape haphazardly over a chair, Zeimer sprawled out. Though he was tall and somewhat lean, his frame was straight and broad, so he never looked small. Beneath the billowy cape, he wore only a thin, form-fitting black shirt. The light traced the flat contours of his chest.

Contrary to his rigid exterior, he was surprisingly flexible; perhaps because of that, when he relaxed and lounged like this, he briefly gave off the impression of a giant cat.

Zeimer acted like a man anxious because he couldn’t do even more for me. I found it a bit puzzling, as his original personality seemed to be surfacing lately. Zeimer was never a cold person by nature. His emotions had simply been worn down by various trials. While he had a tendency toward aestheticism and the worship of knowledge, he was a warm person at his core. Seeing the current Zeimer sometimes made me feel a touch of pity for him.

“What did you do today?”

It was the hour transitioning from afternoon to evening. Zeimer asked about my day. I retraced my hours and, finding nothing particularly memorable, began to speak half-heartedly.

“I woke up a bit late today. So I skipped breakfast and had an early lunch… Ah, I had lunch with Claire. Then I took a short nap…”

Since nothing stood out, I ended up listing my day in a drone, and my words kept getting longer. I continued without thinking much of it.

“And?”

Before I knew it, Zeimer had leaned forward, bringing his body close to mine. I momentarily lost my train of thought looking at his face so near to mine.

“And?”

Zeimer asked again.

“And… it was the same as usual.”

“What about now?”

“Pardon?”

“Is it the same as usual right now, too?”

I didn’t quite understand the intent of the question, so I asked back.

“I think… it’s the same as usual…?”

At that, Zeimer made an uncharacteristically pouty face.

“I’m here. Is it still the same as usual?”

I looked up at him with an incredulous expression.

“Yes. You come every day anyway.”

“That’s disappointing. Every single day I spend meeting you is special to me.”

Zeimer’s eyes were sparkling. Seeing his eyes curve playfully, I didn’t feel the need to respond and kept my mouth shut. Then, Zeimer gently caught my nose and gave it a light twist.

“Don’t ignore me.”

When I remained silent, Zeimer spoke once more.

“You think I don’t know just because you’re expressionless? You’re cursing me out with your eyes right now.”

Feeling a bit guilty, I opened my mouth to say something, but the nasally sound that came out due to my nose being pinched made me stop immediately. I pulled his hand away from my nose.

“Don’t do that.”

Only then did Zeimer lean back again. As he leaned against the backrest, his broad, angular shoulders stood out particularly well. It might have been emphasized by the slightly shimmering black fabric he was wearing.

We stared at each other in silence for a moment. Zeimer was the first to break it.

“Time to wash up.”

Zeimer called a servant to prepare hot water and cloths. Once ready, he soaked a cloth in the water, gathered me into his arms as if embracing me, and helped me sit up. The cushions floated by magic, settling themselves into the space behind my back.

I watched Zeimer’s fingers as he sat me up and unbuttoned my shirt. No matter how many times I saw them, they were truly beautiful fingers. Long, graceful, and white. They felt a bit pale, but Zeimer’s fair skin exuded a noble aura.

With practiced movements, Zeimer removed my shirt. I naturally left my body to him. Wringing the water out of the cloth, Zeimer began to gently wipe my skin. I had told them several times that I didn’t need to wash because of my divine power, but everyone insisted on cleaning me like this. Perhaps it was because I had always washed whenever possible even during the war. Not having been born with divine power like the priests, I couldn’t easily break the habit of washing my body, even if it stayed clean on its own.

“Is this okay?”

Since it had become a routine, I understood Zeimer’s subject-less question immediately.

“Yes.”

He was asking if it was too hot or if it hurt. My body, devoid of circulating mana, was significantly weak, like pudding left at room temperature.

As I looked down, the large scar that filled my chest came into view. It wasn’t a tear or a stab wound, but rather a deep gouge, as if a massive hook had dug in and been ripped out. Of course, new flesh had grown in so it wasn’t a hollow pit, but the texture of the skin still felt different from the surrounding areas when touched.

Zeimer’s hand stopped, and I turned my head to look at him. He was staring at the scar, following my gaze. Even though I was looking at him, his eyes were fixed on the scar and wouldn’t move.

“Zeimer?”

When I called him, only then did Zeimer look into my eyes.

“Yeah.”

“It’s all healed.”

“I know.”

When I spoke calmly, Zeimer shook his head slightly as if reluctantly accepting it and began moving his hand again. The warm, moist cloth felt good as it passed over my skin, so I closed my eyes.

Zeimer’s hand moved toward my neck. I tilted my head back slightly with my eyes still closed. The warm cloth reaching up under my chin felt wonderful.

Usually, the moisture would cool in the air and make the body feel chilly, but a warm glow continued to circulate, perhaps due to a spell. I didn’t know if it was on the water or the cloth. Since Zeimer wouldn’t have cast magic directly on my body, I quietly surrendered myself while making meaningless guesses.

Zeimer wiped everything down thoroughly and then let me go. I was very embarrassed at first, but after being washed repeatedly, I had come to accept it. To be honest, I had panicked and resisted when Zeimer first reached for my underwear, but at some point, I had half-given up and allowed it. Of course, that didn’t mean the embarrassment had vanished.

Once I was fully dressed, there was a knock at the door right on time. It was dinner time. I let out a small inward exclamation of admiration again today. Zeimer used his brilliant mind even for things like this. It was a talent in itself to time things so perfectly that I suspected he had some sort of future sight.

After being wiped down with warm towels, I felt drowsy and wanted to sleep, but Zeimer wouldn’t allow me to skip the meal.

“You have to eat something before you sleep. That’s how you’ll get healthy quickly.”

I already had my eyes closed, so I just waved my hand lazily in annoyance. I knew anyway—that I had to get up and obediently eat the food Zeimer fed me. Still, I couldn’t help the feeling of laziness. While I had wished to eat, play, and rest, now that it had become a rigid, mandatory schedule, I couldn’t help but feel annoyed and wish they would just leave me alone.

Zeimer didn’t care whether I had my eyes open or not and sat me back up. While I had been half-reclining in cushions while being wiped down, this time I was sitting properly against the headboard.

A savory scent stimulated my nose. I saw potato soup with almost no seasoning and a moist dish made of finely ground beef.

“Ah.”

“Ah—.”

Imitating Zeimer’s word, I opened my mouth, and a perfect amount of soup entered. My face followed the spoon as it pulled away, and I grabbed Zeimer’s arm with my hand.

It was a very thin soup made by pureeing all the potatoes, but I chewed it thoroughly. Naturally, my eating speed slowed down. Zeimer waited for me patiently, helping me with my meal while eating his own portion. I felt a renewed sense of apology and gratitude toward him.

“Zeimer.”

After swallowing the last of the food, I called his name. Zeimer had already cleared the plates with magic and sent them away with a servant.

“What is it?”

“Thank you for the meal.”

Zeimer gave a light smile.

“Really.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

Grinning, Zeimer ruffled my hair, stroked my back for a moment, and then helped me lie down. He then pulled out one of the wool socks Director Janet had brought. Perhaps because she was always worried about my cold hands and feet, the socks she brought filled an entire drawer.

My feet were feeling a bit cold since I hadn’t put socks back on after being washed. I unconsciously stuck my feet out before Zeimer even pulled back the blanket. At that, Zeimer burst into a loud laugh.

“What’s this? Are your feet coming out to greet me so I’ll put them on for you?”

Realizing it was an action one wouldn’t do unless they were quite shameless, my face turned red as Zeimer laughed.

“Don’t laugh.”

I replied in a small, crawling voice, and Zeimer said he understood, but his laughter didn’t stop. Feeling embarrassed, I pulled the blanket up to cover my face, but soon lowered it to peek out. Zeimer was preparing to leave.

Feeling a bit sad that he was going, I reached out my arm toward him. Zeimer stopped mid-motion of picking up his cape and leaned over to pick me up.

“What is it?”

Zeimer, who held me without showing any sign of effort, sat in the chair and asked. He placed me on his lap and held me firmly with both arms.

“Just because.”

At that, he gave a soft chuckle and held me even tighter. I felt his high body temperature and closed my eyes, finding it warm. Unlike usual, the scent on him wasn’t of books, but something like earth. I burrowed deeper into his embrace. It was a bit early, but I felt it was a perfect end to the day.

Maybe, as Zeimer said, it really was a special day.