The Villainess Will Not Bring Dishonor To Her Family

119 - A Game, a Novel and a Reality - Part 1

The report of the negotiation to Lionel's father was shortened down to confirming that there is an alliance between Headal and Crinia, and that Semor is likely a part of it. Everything else was written off as a private conversation between the Crinia princess and myself, as she had wanted to meet me. Helena being traded was simplified to 'bringing to friends together'. Knowing Lionel, it may be the truth... or he may just be trying to keep his ignorant father at bay.

With that part over Lionel had us go to the guest room where I had woken up earlier. My armor was still there, and it seems like it's been assigned for me for the rest of the time here, judging by the maid standing cautiously in the hallway, waiting for any calls for her to do something. Either way, Lionel shut the door behind us once he had gotten a bucket of cold water and a rag.

I pulled out the chair Helena had been sitting in yesterday, and Lionel pulled another from the nearby barred window. I did note a somewhat irritated frown curling up on his lips, but this was nothing new. Besides, at this point the entire 'negotiation' was probably driving him mad as well.

I slip down onto the chair I pulled out and note Lionel putting his chair down quite too close to mine before he sits down and almost casually puts the rag into the water. Our knees are practically touching, that is how close we are. Yet, Lionel continues without a care for manners and simply wrings out the rag... before putting it against my forehead.

It feels cold... and yet... far from cold enough. Like the heat of Lionel's hand heats up the damp rag too fast. For a moment my head feels a bit lighter, but yet the nagging irritation of the rag getting warm crawls through my body.

"Lily."

Lionel calls my name with a surprisingly calm voice. His eyes gleam with bits of worry and... what I assume is irritation... but not in an all bad way... I think. He actually gives a bit of an awkward smile too. I guess the conversation took out more than him than I expected. His composure is all gone.

"You do have guts of steel, but you're all out of it," Lionel adds with a hint of worried amusement. I, of course disagree. I am doing fine.

"There is no problem. Now, you want to ask questions, right? Go ahead, I will answer those I can," I half snap back at him. The rag is now warm. It's useless.

As if Lionel knew my inner thoughts, he moved his hand and the rag and put it down into the bucket. He gets up and... steps up next to me with this blanked out look before slipping an arm around my back, and one under my knees... then lifts me off the chair for no reason whatsoever.

"What are you doing?" I snap at him and try to roll out of his grip. Irritatingly he's got a good hold on me.

"I am having you rest, as I had warned earlier. Furthermore, we already reached the conclusion that I would win, so you might as well give in," he responds calmly and starts walking towards the bed...

"I am fine, Lionel. Even if I was not, I could walk on my own," I sneer up at him and give his shoulder holding my legs a light punch to make him drop me. Doesn't work.

"Just now, you were not just letting my hand be against your forehead, you also pressed against it. The plan was for you to hold it yourself you know," he adds with a raised eyebrow.

While I contemplate that, he puts me down on the bed gently and then pulls a chair closer to the bed with the bucket and rag. He makes another cold rag to put on my forehead and watches me for a moment.