I Tamed the Monstrous Prince - Chapter 36
Chapter 36
Then, Cesar flicked the water from his hand. A much calmer reaction than before.
‘Perhaps he doesn’t dislike the water itself?’ I wondered.
I splashed more water, this time near his chest. The white robe clung to him, the damp fabric deepening the folds and revealing glimpses of skin beneath. It wasn’t until I saw a droplet trickle down the valley between his pectorals that I snapped back to reality.
‘Oh my,’ I thought, abruptly turning my head away, a blush warming my cheeks as my heart pounded.
‘Teaching him to bathe means… seeing him unclothed.’
“What do I do…?” I murmured. Had I been too naive? Was there a way to teach him without… that?
“Ren?”
Frozen in place, I was startled when Cesar tugged at my sleeve. In that instant, as he moved, his robe shifted, baring his shoulder. The fabric below precariously clung to him. I bit back a gasp, my gaze darting to the ceiling.
“Cesar,” I said, my voice trembling, “you absolutely, positively cannot take off that robe, okay?”
“Cannot?”
Yes, this was crucial to our bathing endeavor. Whether he understood or not, I frantically adjusted his robe, trying to ignore the distracting view. “Understood? You have to hold it closed, tightly.”
“Yes.”
He agreed readily enough, but I reiterated, anxiety clinging to me. “Hold it tight.”
“Yes.”
One problem solved, but the larger one loomed. How was I supposed to do this?
He’d mimicked me eating before, only taking a bite after watching me. Perhaps bathing would be similar?
“Even so, that’s…” The thought of someone watching me bathe mortified me. But looking at Cesar, his eyes fixed on me, I couldn’t refuse.
“I don’t know.”
Resigned, I decided to demonstrate, starting with getting into the tub. “This is purely educational,” I muttered, clinging to the excuse. I couldn’t get in the tub with my robe on.
As I reached for the ribbon at my chest, I felt Cesar’s blatant stare, his eyes filled with an almost overwhelming curiosity. While likely innocent, it was still unnerving to have his gaze follow my every move. I cleared my throat. “Turn around for a moment, please.”
Obediently, he turned. The rustle of my skirt falling to the floor was followed by the slight struggle of peeling off damp stockings. “Okay, you can turn back now.”
He spun around instantly. It had been a long time since I’d shown my bare legs to anyone. The twisted, scarred flesh from my injury was exposed, a sight I usually kept hidden. It wasn’t a disease, but an… accident.
Shortly after I arrived at the Flores estate, Giovinetta, the eldest daughter, had shoved me down a flight of stairs. I couldn’t recall the reason, a trivial argument escalating into a fall that shattered my ankle.
‘You were careless!’
She had taunted, sticking out her tongue. I lay there for days, clutching my mangled ankle, no doctor summoned. Weeks later, when Gasparo, my father, finally noticed my absence from Sunday dinner and sent for a physician, it was too late.
I was left with a permanent limp. No one was held accountable. It was simply my fault for being clumsy.
