And so the next day came, and Ivan greeted the morning in high spirits. The first thing on his mind the moment he opened his eyes was Leonard. What state was he in right now, he wondered — what had he felt when he woke up?
A flood of possibilities rose in his mind, and Ivan couldn’t help but feel a swell of excitement. He would probably be working through documents by early afternoon, so perhaps Ivan would go check on him then.
Ivan spent the morning in his room, turning over his plans to see Leonard. It was only when lunchtime rolled around that he slowly began getting ready. Taking advantage of the bustle to wash, change his clothes, and put a bandage on the finger he had cut the day before — he crafted an appearance entirely unlike the night, neat and composed from head to toe. With the collar raised to cover his neck, there could hardly be anyone more presentable.
“This outfit really does hold up every time I look at it.”
It subtly traced the lines of his body while remaining modest in silhouette — a contrast to Ivan’s indecent figure beneath that made it all the more enticing. Ivan practiced his expression in the mirror until it was perfect, completing his transformation into a timid, quiet Ivan.
All that was left now was getting into Leonard’s room somehow. He was officially the Duke’s personal manservant, but with the Duke away, even when he tried to take on other tasks, the other servants wouldn’t give him any work. Part of it was the claim that a frail body like his couldn’t handle it — but more likely, they simply didn’t want to entrust anything to someone as lowly as him. These were people who took pride in their work here.
So barging in without cause was out of the question, and asking for work the way he had before — there was no telling whether they’d give it to him, and even if they did, the chances of it being anything connected to Leonard were slim.
What to do.
Ivan turned it over in his mind. For Leonard to be convinced, there needed to be an occasion for them to cross paths naturally — but given Leonard’s personality, there was no chance he would seek Ivan out first. He had too much pride, and the more likely scenario was that he would simply try to forget the whole thing and move on.
“Should I wait for him to go out briefly.”
Meeting him quietly in his room and watching for a reaction would be ideal, but……
Ivan stepped out into the corridor and wandered slowly, gathering his thoughts. Running into him outside by chance would be the thing, but…… Oh.
Just as Ivan was about to give up on going to the room entirely, he spotted a manservant far down the hall pulling a cart in the direction of Leonard’s room. Tea and refreshments sat on the cart — clearly someone going to serve tea. Ivan considered himself lucky and resolved to make use of it.
Intercepting the cart was easy. Step into any nearby room, pick up a bottle of ink, follow the manservant quietly, and splash a bit on the back of his clothes — that was all it would take. He splashed it near the vest so the manservant wouldn’t feel the wetness seeping in right away, then walked behind at a distance and watched the ink slowly spread.
The ink stained the manservant’s clothes in no time at all. Ivan jogged up to him, panting as though he had only just spotted it and rushed over.
“E — excuse me……! Haa, haa……”
At Ivan’s approach the manservant halted briefly, brow furrowing.
“……What. Do you need something from me?”
Ivan shrank back at that, flinching as if startled. He hesitated with an expression that looked almost frightened, fidgeting with his fingers. At the sight, the manservant moved to turn away again as if he’d seen something disagreeable — but Ivan didn’t miss his chance and opened his mouth again.
“Um — sir……!”
“What.”
“Your clothes…… there’s a bit of a stain on them. I wasn’t sure if you’d noticed…… I just wanted to let you know.”
Ivan glanced up to meet the manservant’s eyes for a moment, then looked back down again and cast another quick glance toward the clothing. Puzzled, the manservant reached back to feel around — and when his fingers found the ink seeping from the shoulder area, he yanked off his vest on the spot in shock. The ink had spread heavily across the back, and in touching the stained section of his shirt he got it on his hand as well, and he stamped his feet in distress.
“What is this……! Who would do something like this——!”
It never crossed his mind for a second that Ivan had done it. He simply assumed it was some colleague’s prank and let out a horrified cry. In this state there was no way he could go to Leonard — nor could he touch the cart with ink-stained hands. And calling someone else over or going to change clothes would cost too much time — which made things worse.
The manservant stood there flustered, thrown by a situation he had never anticipated, eyes going back and forth between Ivan and his stained hand.
“Damn it.”
A curse escaped his lips. He shot Ivan a look of clear displeasure, then stepped forward and looked down at him, delivering words that sat somewhere between a request and a warning.
“You — take that to Young Master Leonard. But don’t you dare lift your face, don’t speak to him. Don’t get on his nerves, then come straight back. Understood?”
“M — me……?”
“Yes, you——! The tea’s going to go cold, hurry up and go!”
Before Ivan could get a word of protest in, the manservant had already shoved him toward the cart. The manservant sprinted off to wash the ink from his hand and clothes before it could spread further — and Ivan watched him go in silence.
“How simple.”
The man had gone and handed the task over to Ivan before Ivan had even offered to take it — whether to call him stupid or to be grateful was hard to say. Ivan shook his head with a faint, wry smile, the image of the manservant’s ink-blackened shirt drifting through his mind.
Still — I should be thankful for his obliviousness.
Ivan let his expression settle back into its warm, guileless smile and took hold of the cart. A faint curl of steam was still rising from the teapot, still holding its heat. The tea was thankfully still warm, but there was no time to dawdle further. Ivan quickened his pace. Usually his steps were quiet and unhurried — but today they carried a lightness to them that echoed through the corridor.
And so Ivan stepped into Leonard’s room. Leonard was absorbed entirely in his work, as though he hadn’t registered who had come in. Ivan had anticipated exactly this — so he moved inside naturally and came to stand beside Leonard, slowly setting out the tea. The dessert, then the teacup, arranged with practiced ease. And amidst those natural, fluid movements, Ivan’s finger drifted into Leonard’s line of sight. The injured finger with the bandage on it. Under normal circumstances Leonard might not have paid it any notice — but after dreaming the same dream as the night before, he certainly would.
“You……”
Just as expected. Leonard raised his head and looked at Ivan. Ivan had already seen it coming — but he drew his shoulders up with a flinch and put on a frightened expression all the same. This sort of behavior was the type Leonard disliked most. But what could be done. Even what he most disliked could begin to pull at his attention.
“Step back. I have no desire to look at something as vulgar as you.”
Leonard dismissed Ivan the moment he laid eyes on him. But those words were soon corrected. When told to lift his head, Ivan brought his eyes up in an instant, tears already gathering at the corners. Leonard looked at Ivan’s expression with that familiar contemptuous look — but before long his gaze shifted into something more searching. It moved over Ivan’s neck, his chest, his waist, and then down further to his hips — a frank, unhidden trail of a look. Leonard may not have intended it to read that way, but that was how it felt to Ivan.
He’s probably comparing the dream to how I look now.
He was clearly disoriented, mixing up the dream and what was in front of him. He might not show it outwardly, but any person would be thrown into confusion. Especially Leonard, whose desires ran deep beneath the surface and never saw the light.
Ivan fought to keep the corner of his mouth from curling upward, doing nothing but tightening his fist slightly under that gaze. Even that look alone made his body feel like it was warming. He thought his front might start to show. What is he thinking right now? Is he comparing me to how I was last night — and what does that comparison make him feel? Does the wanton version of me interest him more?
When Leonard let out a breath, Ivan noticed his gaze had finally left him. Ivan spoke up.
“Young Master……? Are you all right?”
“Ha.”
The eyes that had lingered on his body for so long shifted again, returning to their contemptuous edge as they settled back on Ivan. Then came the cold voice that followed — and Ivan felt a chill run through him.
Yes. This is how it should be.
What could be more thrilling than watching contempt slowly transform into lust? A torrent of cutting words poured out of Leonard. Ivan let his expression crumple further, and fresh tears began gathering at the corners of his eyes until at last he let his head drop.
“Sob…… I’m sorry.”
Ivan carried the performance through to the end, down to the detail of trembling fingertips. He made sure not to forget letting his sleeve slip to reveal the medical plaster on his wrist as he extended his arm. He deliberately let his arm falter once, then rattled the teapot slightly as he set it down, as if by accident.
I am injured. I was hurt because of what happened yesterday. The me of last night and the me right now are two different people.
Ivan drew a firm line between dream and reality, then took hold of the cart. He did not forget to dab at the corner of one eye before he left. And with that, Ivan turned his back to Leonard and stepped out of the room.
Even as he walked to the door with his back to Leonard, Ivan could feel that persistent gaze clinging to him. It made the corner of his mouth pull upward against his will, and he pressed his lips together tightly to hold it in — but Leonard would never see that. The moment his body crossed the threshold and the door clicked shut behind him, Ivan let out a long breath and raised one hand to cover his face.
