It was just Cecilia and herself drinking, so Rita wondered if Cecilia might suspect some other motive behind it: maybe slipping something into the drink, or taking the chance to properly interrogate her, or perhaps she truly just wanted to deepen their bond and experience something unknown.
But Cecilia actually got drunk while drinking with her—that was a bit terrifying.
Now Cecilia’s small hand was like a pair of handcuffs, tightly locking Rita’s hand to the table, while Cecilia herself rested her head on the table, eyes closed, lost in thought.
Cecilia wasn’t stupid.
Even if she intended to convey some message or test her in this way, she wouldn’t get drunk after just half a cup of low-alcohol Beer—she wasn’t some scheming Miss Rabbit harboring ill intent.
Scheming?
Rita’s heart skipped a beat.
She quickly took Cecilia’s cup and sipped a little, making sure the drink was exactly the same as what she’d had before, and there was no one secretly poisoning it.
What a fright.
If Cecilia suddenly got poisoned when they were alone, Rita would be in serious trouble—no matter where she ran, someone would come after her.
?
So, there was only one answer!
Cecilia was just a complete lightweight!
She got drunk after only two sips!
Totally a Beer novice!
But, if she was such a lightweight, and passed out right after drinking, why would she want to drink with her in the first place?
Rita couldn’t figure it out at all!
Setting aside Cecilia’s intentions, the more urgent problem was that her own hand was still tightly held by Cecilia, so what should she do now?
Rita only had experience carrying her drunken roommate back, but she’d never really thought about what to do if a girl drank too much.
Well, the bed was right next to them; carrying her there shouldn’t be too difficult.
Rita thought so as she slightly moved the entwined hands.
“Lady Cecilia?”
No response.
Rita increased the movement a little, calling Cecilia’s name again, but still no response.
Looks like she really had fallen asleep.
Keeping their fingers locked, Rita quietly stood up and circled around the table.
From behind, she gently pushed Cecilia’s body, and as expected, Cecilia still didn’t respond.
Leaving Cecilia here might give her a cold, but there was nothing she could do about that now.
Rita directly wrapped her arms around Cecilia’s shoulders; the hand they had locked together moved around to support Cecilia’s waist, letting Cecilia’s entire weight press against her.
Cecilia had only drunk a little, so there was no overpowering stench of alcohol—just the smell of earth clinging to her clothes from walking, mixed with the familiar scent of various Bath Lotions.
Rita swallowed nervously as she helped Cecilia slowly stand up.
So light.
Rita remembered how much effort it took to carry her own roommate when she was drunk, but the completely unconscious Cecilia could be supported with just a gentle lift.
The makeshift bed was right beside them.
Using only one hand, Rita took quite a while to carefully lay Cecilia down and cover her with a quilt.
Throughout, Cecilia’s hand never loosened its grip even a little, so Rita had no choice but to pull over a chair and sit by Cecilia’s bedside.
Outside the tent, occasional howls of wild beasts sounded, footsteps echoed from time to time, and besides that, only the crackling of dry wood burning in the small stove could be heard.
Rustle.
In this quiet setting, Rita’s senses became even sharper.
The shape of Cecilia’s fingers, the warmth of her palm, the subtle friction of Cecilia’s hand brushing against hers with each breath in sleep—
Rita swallowed again, unable to tell if it was from nervousness or hunger with food so close at hand.
Anyway, Cecilia was already asleep, so maybe she could just…
Rita thought as she softly called out once more, but the only reply was a muffled murmur from a dream.
That should be okay, right?
Summoning her courage, Rita leaned in a little closer, now even nearer to Cecilia’s defenseless sleeping face.
This was only the second time Rita had observed Cecilia’s sleeping expression so closely; the scene felt like a déjà vu of when she first met Cecilia.
She took a deep breath and slowly reached out her hand, preparing to cup Cecilia’s cheek.
This time, Cecilia didn’t suddenly reach out to grab Rita’s wrist, so her hand smoothly landed on Cecilia’s face.
Unlike Cecilia’s cool hand, her slightly flushed cheek was hot to the touch, as if it could burn Rita.
Yet, holding Cecilia’s cheek like this gave Rita a strange sense of accomplishment.
Rita slowly lowered her head, aiming for the pale, exposed skin of Cecilia’s neck.
Swallow.
Murmur.
Another muffled murmur made Rita’s movement pause.
Beneath the shadow cast by her own body, Cecilia’s long eyelashes slowly lifted, golden eyes flickering with some confusion as they met Rita, who was only a step away.
“Rita?” Cecilia’s voice was like golden honey, thick with a hint of sweetness.
It was a voice Cecilia would never make consciously—she was still quite drunk.
“What are you doing?”
One hand—the one not held by Rita—twisted behind and clasped the back of Rita’s hand, pulling the hand that cupped her cheek up to Cecilia’s lips.
Cecilia parted her mouth, like a little cat biting gently on Rita’s curved knuckle.
Rita’s fingers were slender, but Cecilia’s mouth was small, so she could only grasp a bit of the side of the joint with her canine tooth, nibbling like a small animal chewing on a bone.
That bite didn’t hurt, but it pierced straight to Rita’s heart, making her pounding nerves suddenly slow for a beat.
It was a little ticklish, and a little agitated.
When she saw the teeth glinting from the shadows on Cecilia’s lips, that agitation flared even stronger.
.
This thought was inappropriate, but only one thing occupied Rita’s mind.
That flushed yet somewhat indifferent expression was a little seductive.
Aside from this thought, Rita’s mind completely stalled; she didn’t even realize when Cecilia moved the hand holding hers away, just standing there blankly, letting the girl’s teeth cling to her knuckle.
“If a servant harbors improper thoughts about her master, a night raid is not a good choice,” Cecilia said, biting a little deeper into Rita’s finger, leaving a small, neat tooth mark.
“Lady Cecilia… I…”
Rita tried to protest, but when Cecilia gently tugged her neck, all her words were swallowed by those soft lips.
Awkward, yet assertive, as if trying to steal all of Rita’s reason and the scant air between their mouths, as if stirring her tongue and Molten Soul into a boiling frenzy.
.
Seconds, or maybe just moments later, Rita finally inhaled fresh, cool air, but it wasn’t enough to clear the chaos in her mind.
“Lady Cecilia… I didn’t… umph!”
Then, once again, even more forceful and prolonged than before.
Afterward, another time, but quicker this time, as if devouring all of Rita’s spirit.
Rita lost count of how many times it repeated, or how long it lasted.
She only remembered that at some point when she wasn’t even aware, Cecilia’s hand fell, her face flushed several times deeper than before, and she slipped into a deep sleep.
Rita raised her arm, wiped the corner of her mouth with her sleeve, then plopped down onto the cool ground, feeling as if she’d been transported to another world.
She reached out and grabbed her own cup from the table, tilting her head back and gulping the Beer down as if it were water.
The icy liquid rolled down into her stomach, yet somehow made her feel a little feverish.
Even with the strong spirits Kros had brought, Rita’s mind hadn’t wavered, but now, she felt her brain growing hazy under the influence of alcohol.
She tossed the wooden cup to the ground, leaned against Cecilia’s bedside, and rested her head on the bed, staring blankly up at the empty tent ceiling.
Behind her, the Fire crackled and popped, occasional sparks flickering in the air and fading quietly—the last accompaniment to the deep night.
Only when the burning flames finally died out, leaving a bed of glowing embers, did the sounds outside the tent come alive again.
“Lady Cecilia, did you rest well last night?”
Rita walked in from outside, holding a basin of hot water and wiping the sweat from Cecilia’s face with a damp towel.
“Hmm, not bad.”
Cecilia responded, glancing at the half-finished cup left on the table overnight, then ordered,
“It seems I really can’t handle my liquor. After Breakfast, remember to put these away.”
“Understood.” Rita replied, but stole a glance at Cecilia’s expression from the corner of her eye.
Her movement was too obvious, and Cecilia grew suspicious.
“Rita, is something wrong?”
“Lady Cecilia, last night…” Rita stammered, wanting to probe Cecilia’s feelings but unsure how to begin, so she tried to hide her nervousness by tidying up the table.
Yet Cecilia’s face remained calm. “What about last night? Don’t you remember?”
Phew, that was even better!
“N-nothing, it’s just that you got drunk quickly, so I carried you to bed. I hope you weren’t uncomfortable.”
Rita breathed a sigh of relief, then immediately regretted bringing it up.
She’d already had a good meal; no need to get greedy.
“Oh, that? As a knight, that’s only natural. And I’m fine.”
“Y-yes!” Cecilia finished cleaning up the table, holding the hot water and towel in her arms. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll go prepare to set off!”
Watching Rita dash away, Cecilia sighed helplessly, then raised her hand to gently touch her lips, which still seemed to carry some trace of those kisses.
Then, she let out an even longer sigh.
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