ORCA 79

No sooner had Orca spoken than a knock sounded from outside. Only then did he release Niah and seat him on the sofa in the dressing room. He poked the boy’s dazed face—still lost in thoughts of peaches—to wake him, then combed through and straightened his tangled hair. He did not forget to stroke the finger he had bitten. He turned away, silently sneering at himself for failing to sense the visitor until they were right at the door.

“Stay here. Eat that.”

Left alone in the dressing room, Niah turned red late and abruptly lowered his head. The teeth marks still remained on the finger where the pain had subsided. Looking at the red lines marring his white skin, an inexplicable sense of shame washed over him. Feeling as though his face might burst if he kept looking, he clenched his fist to hide it. To distract himself with something else, he popped an acacia flower into his mouth. The flower shattered with a crunch. But no matter how much he chewed, it wouldn’t turn sweet. He squeezed his eyes shut.

The tailor who followed Orca into the dressing room had to work hard to hide the fact that he was startled. He visited the Wair estate once every season, but he had never seen a situation like this. There was a sense of dissonance in seeing the young master of the house, who had just seated a servant who jumped up and grew stiff at the sight of him, now commanding him with a mere look.

This young master, whom he hadn’t seen in quite a while—the last time being when he tailored his winter coat some years ago—was notoriously picky, even among other nobles. It was extremely difficult because he disliked the perfectly natural process of standing close or having a tape measure placed against his body. If the tailor kept his distance and was overly cautious, the young master would make absurd remarks about finishing quickly, leaving the tailor drenched in cold sweat by the time he was done.

Even when bringing back fitted clothes to check, he wouldn’t let a soul touch a hair on his head. He found even the servants who came to attend to his dressing to be a nuisance and would dress and undress himself. The only saving grace was that he had no special requests as long as the measurements were accurate. Aside from that, there wasn’t a single good thing about him.

However, a customer who ordered using expensive fabrics and high-quality notions was rare in Rosselia. Moreover, this year, he had been asked to handle two people’s worth of work, so he would be able to handle a larger sum of money than usual. This commission was even more expensive because they were formal wear for a party, not everyday clothes. Thus, he gritted his teeth to ensure his thoughts didn’t show on his face. It wouldn’t be good to offend him before he even took the measurements. He simply hoped the young master of this house would take no interest in him.

While the tailor measured Orca, Niah watched, completely spellbound. Swallowing hard, he scanned the young master from head to toe. He could never get tired of looking at him. He rubbed the fingertip that had been bitten, scratching over the now-faded tooth marks.

His gaze, which had lingered on Orca’s lips for so long, now dropped lower, tracing his upper body. Perhaps because he saw him every day—once while helping him dress in the morning and once while helping him bathe in the evening—the hard muscles beneath the shirt were etched clearly in his mind. He could have pointed out exactly where every scar was.

Niah opened his eyes wide. He rarely had a chance to stare like this, so he was as absorbed in it as he was when removing pests from a shrub. His gaze slowly traveled toward the ankles before rising again. He had never seen the bare body below the waist in detail, so nothing particular came to mind. All he had seen was a fleeting glimpse in the bathroom once. Since then, he had made a point not to look.

In fact, there were many times he felt embarrassed because the young master would just shed his gown without a word. But now, watching from a few paces away, it was true that he was a little curious. Niah traced his memory to conjure a blurry shape. Having thought that far, Niah turned beet red all on his own.

The tailor bowed his head as he rolled up his tape measure. A sense of exhaustion followed the relief of having finished without incident. He hurried to get ready to leave with a noticeably more relaxed expression. He hastily added words announcing his next schedule and questions asked out of courtesy. His desire for the young master to wave him away or tell him to leave was evident.

“Everything is finished. I will return in two days. Is there anything else you need besides the formal wear?”

“My clothes are done; I have something else for you to take on.”

“Pardon? Yes, well, what kind of…”

Orca completely ignored the tailor’s wishes and held him back. The tailor, who had only been thinking of returning, put down his bag and asked awkwardly. It would certainly be nice if the scope of his commissions increased, but he had no clue what the young master meant. He wondered if there was someone to give a gift to, but his shop didn’t deal in ready-made clothes. It meant he couldn’t do anything without the measurements of the person who would wear them. He was flustered, wondering if he was being told to just guess the sizes and make something. It was a plausible guess.

Niah was busy cooling his flushed face. He turned his eyes away from Orca and frantically fanned himself with his hand. He was curious what the conversation with the tailor was about, but he couldn’t listen closely because he was busy suppressing his shameful imagination.

It seems the young master was right—I really am a pervert. This was a huge problem. He had to hide it well so he wouldn’t get caught. He had managed to gloss over it last time when he poked the young master’s stomach, but if he got caught again, he might not be able to brush it off. He was already worried about how to answer if asked what he had been imagining.

“Niah.”

Orca reached out an arm. He had been curious about what Niah would show him next, as the goldfish—who had been staring intently at him—had turned red all by himself and then looked ready to cry, but there was something that needed to be done first. Niah, startled by his call, pricked up his ears. He stopped fanning himself and stood up.

“Come here.”

He trotted over the moment the words left Orca’s lips. Stood facing the mirror, Niah rolled his eyes sideways and upward, feeling awkward. He rarely saw his own reflection, so it felt strange to look straight at it. Furthermore, though he had been fine before, he felt a little nervous now that he was close to a stranger. He felt anxious and his heart was pounding, even with the young master by his side. He glanced at the mirror. He caught the eyes of the young master standing behind him. As he felt the body heat brushing against his neck, the tension that had swollen in his chest subsided.

Orca pulled the fidgeting fingers to check them, then gestured for the tailor with his chin.

“About five sets in the same design as this outfit, please.”

“Pardon?”

“What?”

The tailor, who had been waiting for Orca’s instructions while thinking surely not, asked loudly without realizing it. He had never made clothes for a mere servant, and it was his first time receiving such a request. It would be different if it were a head butler, but an order to tailor clothes for someone who looked like nothing more than a low-level servant was bewildering. He even wondered if returning from war after three years had left him unable to think straight.

In contrast to the openly startled tailor, Niah, who only had a small doubt, turned around quickly. Orca had him stand straight and straighten his back without offering any explanation. If he remained hunched, the measurements would be a mess. He also fixed the boy’s head, which kept lifting to look at him, to face forward.

“Stay still. Put your arms down. Look in the mirror.”

His tone was casual. He left Niah, who was fidgeting, standing there like a round little doll and stepped back a few paces. Then, he sent a fierce look toward the tailor, who was still standing stock-still. There were never any people who moved quickly. Since they all just stood there blankly and kept asking back, it was annoying to order them to do anything.

“Don’t you need to take his measurements?”

“Yes? Oh, no. Not at all.”

The tailor unwound his tape measure and approached. The sudden situation unfolded as smoothly as if it had been planned all along. Niah, disliking the touch that kept brushing against different parts of his body, stared only at Orca in the mirror. Whenever the tailor blocked his view, he naturally became sulky. He hated doing this with a stranger, and not being able to move made him feel unnecessarily choked up. There were so many places to examine, and it seemed like it would never end.

On the other hand, he grew afraid. It was fine now because the young master was here, but he was scared the tailor might hurt him later. It was an groundless suspicion. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself from having such thoughts. It was unavoidable, like being hit by a sudden gust of wind. He just felt like the tailor would hate him.

Does this person know I’m a goldfish?

Niah suppressed the urge to bury his nose into his own forearm. He clenched his lips, waiting only for it to end.