Chapter 82: Not finished

Lathel’s bad feeling immediately became reality.

That was not what he meant at all.

Before he could explain, Rhea had already continued peeling shrimp, her voice still calm as though she had understood him perfectly.

"No need. I can endure it."

Lathel: "..."

The female Judicator standing nearby lowered her head deeply, her shoulders trembling slightly.

Lathel could only try again, this time deliberately making the gestures clearer.

I mean I can eat by myself.

Rhea watched for a long time before looking at him.

"You want me to feed you?"

Lathel immediately shook his head so hard that even his hair moved.

Rhea stopped.

"Then there’s no need."

Lathel finally sighed in relief.

At least she understood the word "no."

Pandora giggled inside his head.

"Her sign language ability is very interesting."

’This cannot be called ability.’

"I think she understands about half of it."

Lathel looked at the third peeled shrimp that had just been placed into his bowl.

’But she’s as confident as if she understands everything.’

"Exactly."

At that moment, a tiny drop of sauce splashed onto Rhea’s index finger, making the room suddenly become quieter.

The female Judicator behind her almost reflexively offered a towel, while Rhea merely stared at the drop for a moment, her brows furrowing slightly.

Lathel thought she would immediately get up and wash her hands, but Rhea simply accepted the towel, wiped her finger clean, then picked up another shrimp.

The subordinate holding the towel remained still for several seconds before unconsciously glancing at her companion.

Their gazes met.

Neither said anything, but their thoughts were almost identical.

In the past, Rhea would definitely have replaced the towel, washed her hands, and probably changed the utensils as well.

Lathel noticed the oddity too.

He watched her hand for a moment before slowly using sign language.

Why are you doing all this?

Rhea watched his movements, but this time she remained silent for quite a while, long enough that Lathel began to think she had misunderstood again.

Finally, she put down the shrimp.

"Because you’re injured."

It was not exactly an answer to his question.

But at least it was not wrong.

Rhea wiped her hands clean with the towel and looked at him.

"Is there a problem?"

Lathel shook his head.

She immediately pushed the bowl of peeled shrimp toward him.

"Eat."

Lathel looked at the nearly ten shrimp in the bowl, then at Rhea’s cold expression that looked as if she were interrogating a criminal.

In the end, he could only pick up his chopsticks.

Pandora sighed inside his head.

"I don’t understand why this feels like you’re being forced to eat."

Lathel did not understand either.

...

After the meal, Rhea personally applied medicine to Lathel’s neck.

When her fingers approached, his body unconsciously tensed slightly.

It was only a tiny reaction, but Rhea immediately stopped before touching him and asked:

"You don’t want me to?"

Lathel paused.

She did not move any closer.

She simply stood there and waited.

After several seconds, Lathel voluntarily pulled his collar down slightly and raised his head.

Only then did Rhea continue.

Her fingertips touched the skin around the bruises very gently.

The cold medicine made him shiver slightly, but the pressure of her hand caused almost no additional pain.

Rhea did not ask who had left those finger marks.

That was already obvious enough.

She also did not mention Catrina and simply applied the medicine in silence until the entire bruised area was covered in a thin layer.

When she finished, Rhea stood and walked directly to the sink in the corner of the room.

She washed her hands once.

Then a second time.

Then a third.

Only then did she stop.

Lathel watched the entire process.

Pandora watched through him as well.

"As expected."

Rhea dried her hands thoroughly before turning back.

"It’s time for the medicinal soak."

Lathel: "..."

For some reason, such an ordinary sentence made him feel slightly threatened.

...

The bathroom had already been filled with warm steam.

Pale blue medicinal liquid filled the large stone tub, while towels and a clean set of clothes had been prepared beside it.

Rhea led Lathel to the doorway, then used a small Magic Item to test the water temperature.

"Just right."

Lathel nodded.

Rhea remained standing there.

He waited several more seconds, but she showed absolutely no intention of leaving.

Lathel could only point at the tub, point at himself, and finally point outside the door.

Rhea carefully observed every movement.

"I understand."

Lathel immediately felt a headache coming.

Sure enough, her gaze stopped on his right shoulder.

"You’re worried you can’t scrub your own back."

Lathel: "..."

He immediately shook his head.

Rhea remained completely serious.

"I can help."

Lathel: "..."

She even added:

"I’ve treated soldiers’ wounds on the battlefield before. It’s only scrubbing your back. It isn’t complicated."

Lathel looked at her.

Rhea looked back.

Outside the door, the two Judicators standing guard simultaneously turned their faces away.

Pandora immediately began laughing.

"Lathel."

’Don’t.’

"I only wanted to say..."

’Don’t say it.’

"Your pursuit is progressing very quickly."

Lathel closed his eyes.

He really needed a notebook.

Right now.

But the more important problem was getting Rhea out of the bathroom.

Lathel had never imagined that the sentence "I can help scrub your back" could make him more nervous than standing in front of Aldric’s ritual.

At least when facing Aldric, he knew what the other man wanted to do.

Rhea, on the other hand, was completely serious.

She was not teasing him.

She was not smiling.

Her gaze was so calm that if Lathel nodded, she would probably pick up a towel, walk inside, and begin scrubbing his back as though it were an entirely normal task.

He immediately used both hands to sign.

No need. I can do it myself.

Rhea watched carefully while Lathel deliberately slowed every gesture to make sure that even someone who only understood basic sign language should be able to grasp the meaning.

After a while, she nodded.

"I understand."

Lathel did not feel relieved at all.

Sure enough, Rhea continued:

"You’re asking whether I know how to scrub properly."

Lathel: "..."

The two Judicators outside lowered their heads at the same time.

One of them even had to cover her mouth with a hand.

Pandora laughed out loud inside his head.

"This is hopeless."

Lathel raised his head and stared at the ceiling.

Rhea continued explaining in an extremely serious tone:

"I do. I won’t hurt you."

Lathel immediately waved both hands, then pointed directly toward the door.

Rhea watched.

He pointed again.

This time, she remained silent for longer.

"You want me to leave?"

Lathel immediately nodded hard.

Finally.

She actually understood.

Rhea did not ask why.

Nor did she insist on staying.

She only said, "All right," then immediately turned and walked outside.

Lathel waited until the door closed before sighing in relief.

He stared at it for several more seconds, as though making sure she would not come back, before finally beginning to remove his outer clothes.

Three seconds later,

Knock. Knock.

Lathel froze.

The door opened only a tiny crack, not enough for anyone outside to see inside.

A bare hand reached through the gap, holding a long-handled brush.

Rhea’s voice came from outside.

"Use this. You won’t need to reach behind yourself too much."

The door closed again.

Pandora remained silent for exactly two seconds before commenting:

"This time, that was fairly reasonable."

Lathel looked at the brush in his hand.

’You being quiet would be even more reasonable.’

"I’m only evaluating."

Lathel sat on the edge of the tub, placed the brush beside him, and looked at the steam rising in front of him.

For some reason, he was beginning to feel that staying with Rhea might be exhausting in an entirely different way from staying with Catrina.

Catrina made him worry about what she might do.

Rhea made him worry about what she might understand.

...

Twenty minutes later, Lathel changed into clean clothes and stepped out of the bathroom.

Rhea was still standing in the corridor, but the ceremonial uniform that had been dirtied at the chapel had already been replaced.

Her long silver hair had also been tied neatly again.

The familiar black glove remained on her left hand.

Only her right hand was still bare.

Lathel unconsciously looked at it for a little longer.

Rhea noticed immediately.

"Something wrong?"

He shook his head.

Her gaze shifted to his still-wet hair, and she immediately said:

"Sit."

Lathel: "..."

A chair had already been placed beside the window.

He looked at the chair, then at Rhea, only now noticing the towel in her hand.

Lathel immediately understood.

I can dry it myself.

Rhea carefully watched the sign language and replied:

"I know."

Lathel: "..."

A moment later, the towel was already covering his head.

Perhaps whether she understood correctly or not no longer mattered.

Rhea began drying Lathel’s hair.

Unlike when she wielded the greatsword, her movements were not fast.

They were even slightly stiff.

Clearly, this was not something she normally did.

She dried the left side first, then noticed that the right side was still wet and changed direction, carefully working little by little until his hair was almost dry.

Lathel reached out to take the towel.

Rhea moved it slightly away.

"Not finished."

He looked at her.

Rhea calmly continued.