Chapter 17

In the early morning, the baron’s bell rang as usual. I hurriedly left the dining table, carrying a pot of warm black tea, and briskly walked to the second-floor bedroom. The baron was accustomed to enjoying his first cup of tea in bed before getting dressed.

This seemingly ordinary routine held a subtle awkwardness. I had once consulted Kahn and learned that, aside from his coat, the baron never required assistance with dressing. Yet now, he calmly shed his sleepwear and stood before me without any reservation.

My memory flashed back to the first time I dressed him. He suddenly asked, “Did you see it?” My cheeks burned instantly, and I was utterly confused—what did he want me to see? Perhaps sensing my embarrassment, the baron coughed lightly and awkwardly added, “No… uh… did you see my back?”

Only then did I realize he was referring to his slight hunch. Though a tall young man, his spine curved slightly, which undoubtedly drew criticism in appearance-conscious noble circles.

“Y…yes, my lord… it… it…” I stammered in response. The baron smiled faintly and extended his hands toward me. Snapping back to attention, I quickly unfolded the shirt in my hands and helped him into it. It was a white shirt made of fine cotton or silk, knee-length with delicate lace at the cuffs. Over his breeches were white stockings, topped with a belt, waistcoat, and coat—a complete gentleman’s attire.

I carefully adjusted the lace at the collar and cuffs, using a brush to smooth out wrinkles and dust. Finally, I placed his rings and necklace on him, completing the daily ritual. From then on, dressing him became my daily duty.

As time passed, I gradually noticed that the baron wasn’t immune to embarrassment. Whenever I helped him into his breeches, his breathing grew rapid, and his cheeks flushed. This was starkly different from my memories of our past life—back then, he had always been composed, even when naked.

The longer we spent together, the more I realized that perhaps I had never truly understood this man. My past-life perception was tinged with disdain, and he had never shown me his true self.

From the servants’ fragmented remarks, I pieced together the baron’s past. His father was the second son of Viscount Lloyd, inheriting neither the title nor any estate, and was even driven out by his elder brother without a penny. Yet, this ambitious father turned to seafaring, and with his noble status and exceptional military skills, he distinguished himself in a French campaign, eventually earning the title of baron.

The baron married a noblewoman and fathered Austin. Unfortunately, this father had no interest in a peaceful life, spending most years drifting at sea and rarely returning home. His wife began an affair with another man and showed indifference toward Austin. A severe illness left young Austin with lifelong disabilities. Later, the baron perished in a shipwreck, and his wife, along with her lover, seized the family fortune and squandered it recklessly.

When Austin grew up, he had almost nothing left except the baronial title. Though he never attended university, he was well-read, particularly fascinated by his father’s maritime adventures. With keen business acumen, he started by investing in textile mills and mines, gradually expanding into maritime trade.

Many called Baron Lloyd a speculator who made his fortune through investments. Little did they know that without unique insight, speculation was far from easy.

Spring returned to the earth, and all things revived. The nobles reveled in the gifts of the Spring Goddess and eagerly embarked on spring hunts. Though Austin’s life was usually uneventful, he had a special fondness for this sport.

Today was the hunting day set by the baron. Before dawn, the servants had already risen and were busily preparing. The kitchen wafted with the aroma of dry provisions, the groom carefully saddled the horses, the hounds were let loose, and the footmen changed into lightweight boots, each collecting their gear and ropes.

By the time the first rays of morning light touched the earth, everyone had gathered at the castle gates. The baron finally appeared in his riding attire, dressed in a light-gray close-fitting coat, leather boots, and a sword at his waist. As his valet, I was responsible for carrying all his equipment and personal belongings, including his most treasured items.

The party set off. Only the baron rode on horseback while the rest followed on foot. Deep in the forest, the hounds began scouting around, startling rabbits and pheasants from the underbrush. It was mating season, and with luck, we might even encounter deer or antelope.

I focused on loading ammunition into the baron’s gun. It was a single-shot rifle that required loading gunpowder, pellets, and iron bullets in sequence, then compacting them with a long iron rod. The process was so time-consuming that as soon as I handed over one gun, I had to start loading the next, leaving me almost no time for anything else.

Suddenly, everyone held their breath. A hunter made a gesture, and in the distance, we spotted a lone fawn. It was trying to cross a fallen cypress by the path to drink from the stream. Unfortunately, before it could get closer, a few gunshots rang out, and the fawn collapsed in a pool of blood.

Amid cheers, two servants led the hounds forward to retrieve the game. The baron took the gun from my hands and praised, “Today went smoothly. Your reloading skills are excellent.” Nowadays, he almost always complimented me a few times. This left me somewhat flustered, as the baron was usually taciturn and rarely initiated conversations with servants. I humbly replied, “You flatter me, my lord.” After hearing it so often, I even found myself blushing.

As time passed, the group gradually scattered. I stayed close behind the baron, but he seemed intent on venturing deeper into the woods. An old hunter warned, “My lord, in early spring, the forest soil has just thawed—it could be dangerous.” The baron pondered briefly and was about to turn back when his beloved horse Laura suddenly neighed.

Laura reared up, her cry piercing. The baron tightened the reins but couldn’t calm her growing agitation. “Trouble! The horse was stung by a bee!” someone shouted. Without thinking, I rushed forward and grabbed the reins.

Standing in front of Laura was extremely dangerous—her hooves could crush my belly the next second. “Laura, calm down.” Austin struggled to control the horse and shouted at me, “Toker, let go! Let go now!”

I couldn’t let go. If I released my grip, the baron alone couldn’t possibly restrain this frenzied horse and would likely be thrown off. This was no joke—many had broken their necks from such falls.

Fortunately, after several attempts to calm her, Laura finally settled down. I wiped the cold sweat from my brow and gently stroked her cheek: “Good girl, good girl.”

The baron dismounted and urgently grabbed me: “Are you alright?”

“No, no, are you all right?” I countered.

The hunters who swiftly arrived surrounded us. After confirming no one was injured, today’s hunt came to an end. The baron’s horse had been spooked, and he himself had nearly been hurt, so the accompanying servants were all reprimanded by the steward.

I, however, was an exception. The steward praised my bravery, saying I would surely be rewarded. In hindsight, I felt somewhat bewildered. I had acted so recklessly, charging straight at a panicked horse. It was incredibly imprudent—a single misstep could have left me gutted. Yet I did it anyway, as if driven by instinct.

I thought, I couldn’t let him die before my eyes. In my past life, I betrayed him and harmed him. In this life, given the chance, I would risk my life to atone for my wrongs, even though he knew nothing of it.

At this moment, the baron stood before me, his sudden confession startling me. His expression was earnest, his brown eyes filled with my reflection. I heard his low, hoarse voice: “I… I accept you… You shouldn’t have done something so dangerous…”