Translated by Addis of Exiled Rebels Scanlations
“Take a bath?” Kyfayar’s ear collapsed and stammered, “But… but in this little house… There is no bathroom…”
Even if there was a place for tap water, there was no such luxury as a ‘bathroom’!
Augusta moaned bitterly, “I should have known. This place is hell! I might as well die…” He turned over and curled up, and the towel on his forehead slipped onto the pillow. Kyfayar hurriedly took the towel away, then put a new one on Augusta’s forehead.
“Don’t worry, I-I’ll ask Miss Quentina if she can help…” He ran to the kitchen. Quentina, with a strange smile, threw a handful of grass leaves into the boiling water, as if she were concocting some kind of unspeakable poison that would destroy all mankind.
“Miss Quentina, Lord Augusta said he wants to take a bath.”
The female vampire scornfully said, “There is no bathroom here! Do you think I’m an omnipotent blue skinned robot?”
“That’s what I told him…”
“Make him bear it!”
“Isn’t there any way to help? Lord Augusta looks miserable. I want to make him as comfortable as possible…”
Quentina put her hands on her hips, “There is a way, but I think it’s useless and I threw it by the firewood.” She reached over and told Kyfayar the direction of the heap.
“I’ll go and get it back!” Kyfayar turned and ran.
Quentina called behind him, “You have to make your own hot water! It’s troublesome!”
“For Lord Augusta, I don’t mind a little trouble!” Kyfayar responded in a loud voice, hoping that Augusta’s evaluation of him would be improved a little after hearing this.
At the back door of the cottage, he found a neat pile of firewood, and next to it was a bathtub which was upside down on the floor. Perhaps the renter of the vacation home also knew that the tub was useless, so he put two pots of flowers on the bottom.
Kyfayar moved the flowerpot, turned over the tub, washed it with water from the water tank, picked up a handful of firewood from the woodpile and went to the kitchen to heat the hot water. The cottage was really original, but it was inconvenient (there was no toilet! Maybe the renter wanted the tenant to go to the forest to solve the problem by himself, and fertilize the plants). Couldn’t the renter renovate the cottage to attract customers?
After boiling two buckets of hot water, Kyfayar moved the now clean tub to Augusta’s room. The magician was curled up in the corner of the bed, blanketed like a bear preparing to hibernate. Kyfayar gently shook his shoulder, “My Lord, the tub is ready.”
Augusta hummed twice, opened his eyes, and looked at him in a trance. He seemed to have no idea where he was. He was probably confused.
Kyfayar pointed to the tub and said, “Didn’t you want to take a bath?”
Augusta came to his senses. He struggled to get up from the bed, and grabbed at his lapel. He seemed stupefied for a moment before turning to Kyfayar, “You go out, don’t peek.”
“Er… But can you do it alone?”
Augusta stared at Kyfayar, his eyes red and bloodshot, and he didn’t have his usual dignity. “Nonsense. It’s just bathing. It’s not diving 300 meters below to explore the seabed.”
Since Augusta had the strength to make complaints, maybe it would not be a problem for him to take a bath on his own. Kyfayar exited the room and went to the kitchen to boil more hot water. Quentina was still studying her horrific concoction (the color of her herbal juice was like a hillside behind a mudslide, and it suspiciously bubbled). When Kyfayar returned, she wondered, “Why are you here? Aren’t you going to serve Mr. Augusta in the bath?”
Kyfayar tugged at the corner, “My Lord said that he wanted to bathe on his own. Told me to go out…”
“You should be tough now! It’s always up to his temperament! I thought you came to these wild mountains to get Augusta… The result is for nothing?”
Kyfayar’s face was hot, “I… I don’t think this time is right…”
“Mn, you let go of such a good opportunity.” Quentina rolled her eyes and continued to pound her herbs.
Dejectedly, Kyfayar added firewood to the stove. Of course, he would like to take the opportunity to get close to Augusta, but how would he dare to disobey Augusta’s order to go out? On the one hand, he was known for his careful thinking; on the other hand, Augusta had absolute authority over him.
He was sandwiched between the two, which was more contradictory than anything else. How can he be accepted by Lord Augusta? Even if it was not ‘acceptance’ in the sense of love, as long as Augusta could open up a little to him and let him walk in a little bit, it would be better than anything.
He heated up another bucket of water and estimated the time. It was almost time to add some hot water to Augusta’s bath. He came to the door of Augusta’s room, tapped three times and whispered, “Lord Augusta? May I come in?”
There was silence behind the door, and Augusta did not answer.
Kyfayar raised his voice and asked again, “Lord Augusta! Can you hear me? Do you need hot water?”
He waited for a moment, but there was still no sound from inside the room. He was worried, had Lord Augusta fallen asleep after washing? That was not good. He’d catch a cold if he slept in the tub! For his health’s sake, I should secretly open the door to have a look, shouldn’t I? He’d understand!
He held the door handle, pushed open a slit, peeped in, and saw Augusta sitting in the tub with his head tilted, his eyes closed, and his hand on the outside of the tub. His posture was like that of the world famous painting, ‘The Death of Marat’. Seeing this, Kyfayar immediately incarnated into the world famous painting ‘The Scream’, holding his face in both hands as he shouted, “Lord Augusta! Are you all right?”
He rushed into the room and held Augusta by the shoulder. The magician didn’t respond, apparently having fainted. Kyfayar fumbled to get him out of the tub, regretting so much that he almost hit the ground with his head. Miss Quentina was right. He shouldn’t have been fooled by Lord Augusta’s nature! If he insisted on staying with Augusta, this would never have happened!
Augusta was fished out like a dead fish, motionless, wet, with naturally no clothing on. Kyfayar would have thought he was dead if his chest hadn’t been moving up and down. He didn’t dare to enjoy Augusta’s nudity and quickly dried him. When he touched some sensitive parts, Kyfayar sheepishly moved away, but the touch under his palm made him blush and his heart beat quicker. Maybe his temperature was higher than Augusta’s.
After wiping him dry, he picked up the magician by his waist, threw him back on the bed and wrapped him in a blanket from head to toe. Augusta went from a dead fish to a sea cucumber. When Kyfayar moved the tub away and wiped the water on the floor, the sea cucumber creeped over slowly, and half of his head emerged from the blanket.
“Kyfayar…” Augusta’s muffled voice came from under the blanket, “What’s wrong with me…”
Kyfayar said in a heartbroken manner, “You fainted in the tub!”
“Ah… Yeah, I don’t remember…” Augusta’s eyes looked muddled and he quickly retracted his hand into the blanket, like a frightened hermit crab in its shell.
“How do you feel? Is there anything else you need — don’t mention a bath! If you wash it like this a few times, you may die!”
“Uh huh…” Augusta answered vaguely, and Kyfayar estimated that he didn’t understand what he was saying. He reached out again from under the blanket and shook Kyfayar to indicate him to approach. The young werewolf half-knelt by the bed, holding Augusta’s hand.
“Kyfayar, listen up…”
“Next, I will dictate: I, Augusta Hollich…”
Kyfayar really wanted to grab the pillow and kill Augusta himself. But he held back. It made him admire his perseverance. “You have already said that!”
“Ah? I don’t remember,” muttered Augusta like a forgetful old man.
“In short, what else do you want to say besides wanting a bath and making a will?”
The magician shook his head and his brown hair fell on the white pillow, making him look haggard. “No more…” He closed his puffy eyelids as if he were asleep. Kyfayar was about to release Augusta’s hand, but the magician suddenly opened his eyes, “No, wait. Kyfayar?”
“I’m here, my Lord.”
“Don’t go. Stay with me for a moment.”
Kyfayar felt his head bubbling like Quentina’s herbal juice, “Of course! I will accompany you every step of the way!”
Augusta snorted, lowered his eyes, and soon fell asleep again. Kyfayar still held his hand and was afraid to let go. He simply lay on the bed with his head resting on his other arm and stared at the sleeping Augusta. The magician’s eyebrows were twisted together, his face was still ugly, his skin was as hot as charcoal, and his condition was not much better. Kyfayar wanted him to sleep well. Maybe he would be better after dawn.
Poor Lord Augusta, why was he so unlucky? It was supposed to be a nice and relaxing holiday, but he got sick. It doesn’t matter. I will take good care of you and make you as comfortable as if you were at home.
Kyfayar blinked, and his tiredness welled up in his mind, and he also, soon, fell asleep.