Odalisque - Chapter 65

Grabbing a blade with one’s bare hand—a display that the predators at the academy seemed to find quite fascinating. They didn’t know that Dimus had calculated that the improperly maintained blade wouldn’t sever his fingers.

As a result, Dimus drew their attention, and over time, his position within the academy solidified. His rapidly improving skills further bolstered his standing.

There was no point in reflecting on the hardships of those days with self-pity. He knew well how worthless such emotions were.

But…

“Did you win?”

The “yes” he had given was literal. He had won a match that had clearly been to his disadvantage—an objective fact.

“Then this scar is a medal of victory.”

Dimus had never thought of himself as having “won” back then.

It was a humiliating, insignificant part of his past. He had used trickery, and attaching a grand word like “victory” to it seemed almost laughable.

The idea that barely scraping by, with such a shameful scar, was a victory? A true victory should be brighter, more magnificent.

Dimus gazed at the scar between his fingers, releasing a long breath.

“Did you win?”

It was an unexpected question.

Before he had started obsessively concealing his scars, the first thing people would say upon seeing them was usually something like, “It must have hurt a lot,” with pity, or “How did it happen?” They were questions that made Dimus profoundly uncomfortable.

He had no desire for sympathy about his pain, nor any wish to revisit his past.

“Ha…”

The image of Liv’s innocent smile after he had said he had won came to his mind. She seemed genuine.

Did she really see this scar as a testament to his victory?

I wonder if she’d say the same after seeing all the other scars covering my body.

Victorious? All those ugly marks?

How foolish.

“Beautiful roses have thorns, but there is always someone willing to reach out and risk getting pricked.”

How bold, indeed. To say something like that about me. If one were to analyze their relationship, he was the predator wielding a blade, while she stood before him, defenseless.

Dimus rubbed the scar near his thumb, then stood up. He didn’t feel like smoking or drinking. Instead, a different kind of thirst overtook him. Though, of course, whenever he gave the order, she would appear before him…

“Even roses feel pain when their branches are broken.”

For some reason, he didn’t want to quench the dryness he felt at that moment.

Instead, he just stared blankly out the darkened window. The outside world was obscured from view.

It looked as if he stood there alone, in the dark.

Perhaps, that was true.

“A broken rose branch eventually withers, Marquis.”

***

The atmosphere in Buerno grew more vibrant by the day.

The Cardinal’s visit was approaching, and many events were planned throughout the city, as if preparing for a festival. Naturally, under such festive conditions, classes could hardly proceed smoothly.

Moreover, when news spread that Marquis Dietrion would not be hosting the Cardinal and his pilgrimage group, the Pendence family began preparations for receiving guests.

Baroness Pendence wanted to continue lessons despite the disarray in the manor, but when she saw Million’s excitement at the prospect of meeting the pilgrims, she soon gave up.

In the end, the Baroness apologized to Liv. In the past, the disruption to her income would have caused Liv great stress, but her situation had improved significantly, and she was more than happy to accept the special circumstances.

With her originally scheduled lesson postponed, Liv decided to head straight home. She had no desire to linger and deal with the bustle at the Pendence estate.

So she had planned to leave quickly, but…

“Why do I need to take a carriage with Teacher Marcel?”

“Because Baroness Pendence insisted on it.”

Liv understood that the Pendence estate was busy due to the sudden change of plans regarding the Cardinal’s visit. It made sense that Camille had been roped in to help; he did have acquaintances among the pilgrims, after all.

He had been tasked by the Baroness with escorting her in a carriage, and their destination happened to be Liv’s home in the Femon district.

“I ordered a cake for you, Teacher Rodaise, from a shop near Femon. Why not stop by and pick it up? I was planning to send it with a servant this evening, but wouldn’t it be better to have it fresh? A servant will guide you.”

Baroness Pendence seemed genuinely apologetic for changing the schedule. Given the busy state of the estate, sending a servant specifically to deliver a cake seemed needlessly troublesome. So Liv offered to collect the cake herself on the way home.

It wasn’t far, and she had intended to walk at her own pace. However, the Baroness had insisted, apologizing for not preparing in advance and all but pushing her into the carriage.

“It’s a short walk.”

Camille replied to Liv’s mumbled complaint with a light laugh.

“Maybe she wanted to support me a little too.”

“Support? No, please don’t explain.”

Come to think of it, wasn’t it Camille who had said something strange to Baron Pendence? Liv hadn’t realized that Baroness Pendence was as interested in romantic affairs as her husband.

She’d have to speak to them about this awkward situation later. If she didn’t, this sort of meddling might happen repeatedly.

Feeling a headache coming on, Liv pressed her fingers to her temple. Camille, noticing her discomfort, gave her an awkward smile.

“My honest confession didn’t earn me any trust, did it?”

Did he truly think that revealing his identity and intentions would make everything better between them? Such naivety.

Or perhaps Camille’s life had always gone smoothly, in just that way.

Liv, biting her lip, stared directly at Camille, who sat across from her.

“I have no romantic interest in you, Teacher Marcel.”

“…Oh.”

“And this kind of forced meeting makes me uncomfortable.”

Camille blinked at Liv’s blunt rejection. He frowned slightly, scratching his cheek awkwardly, then gave a resigned smile.

“You’re even more indifferent now that you know I’m from Eleonore.”

“Were you trying to intimidate me?”

“Of course not.”

Camille waved his hand in denial as if the notion was absurd. Liv, watching him, softened her tone slightly.

“You were honest with me, so I’m being honest with you. Otherwise, you’d just keep pretending not to know.”

“Understood… for now.”

Understood, for now? What did he mean by “for now”?

Camille’s answer, dripping with lingering hope, made Liv frown. But Camille seemed lost in thought, rubbing his chin. After a moment, he spoke up.

“I have to ask, though—I’m genuinely curious.”

“Go ahead.”

“Am I really that unattractive?”

He looked genuinely puzzled, as if he couldn’t comprehend her lack of interest. Seeing his unshakeable confidence, Liv hesitated, opening her mouth but failing to answer right away.

Finally, she managed to reply.

“Attraction isn’t something that can be measured objectively.”

“I know, but… I’m not exactly someone who gets rejected everywhere I go. I’ve never been this insistent before.”

“Well, maybe being insistent for the first time is the problem.”

“Ah.”

Camille let out a small sound of realization, as if Liv’s comment had given him new insight. Though Liv had said it offhandedly, it seemed Camille had taken it to heart.

To be honest, Liv didn’t think Camille was someone who would be rejected often. Under different circumstances, she might have found him appealing.

But regardless of whether she was in a position to engage in carefree romance, Liv simply couldn’t find Camille attractive in that way.

She was already deeply entangled with the Marquis.

“Oh, they’re building an outdoor theater over there. I heard they’ll be putting on a play to welcome the pilgrims…”

Camille, who had been gazing out the window, leaned closer to get a better look. His recovery was remarkably quick, especially for someone who had just been rejected.

“If you have time, you should see it. The play they’re putting on is supposed to be quite good.”

“Do you usually watch outdoor plays?”

“Of course.”

Camille seemed to understand what Liv was implying with her question. He shrugged, his explanation flowing smoothly, as if he’d said it many times before.

“If I don’t introduce myself as being from Eleonore, no one associates me with that family. I enjoy street culture quite a bit.”

Indeed, from his appearance to his demeanor, nothing about Camille screamed the son of a prominent noble family.

“That reminds me—they’re planning an outdoor exhibition near the museum too. It seems it was organized on short notice, so they haven’t gathered many pieces yet, but they should have everything ready before the Cardinal arrives.”

Camille’s words prompted Liv to look out the window as well. She had thought the passing scenery looked the same as always, but now she noticed changes she hadn’t seen before—preparations for the Cardinal’s visit.

How much of this would actually affect her life?

“It looks like the streets will be bustling. Maybe you should take a day to enjoy yourself, Teacher Rodaise…”

As Camille excitedly continued, Liv caught his gaze and he immediately raised his hands in surrender.

“Alright, alright. I’ll stop trying to flirt.”