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Chapter 3 - Bathump! Bathump!

Hours after Rhydan left and noon came where the sunlight filtered through the tall windows of his chamber, casting warm patterns on the polished floor, Rowan stood hesitantly, fidgeting with the thin white robe that still felt foreign against his skin.

The unfamiliarity of his body made every movement feel awkward, and the idea of stepping out into the world—even for a simple walk

—made his stomach twist.

Before he could make a move, the servants appeared at his side, bowing slightly but speaking with firm authority. "Your Highness, it is time to prepare for your walk. Allow us to assist you with bathing," one of them said, with a tone leaving little room for refusal.

Rowan froze and panic flared in his chest.

Bath? With them? Now?

In his mind, he was still Mari—a woman used to privacy and autonomy so the thought of being undressed and handled, even by servants, made his face flush hotly.

"Uh… I-I can do it myself…" he stammered, tugging at the robe while trying to maintain some control over his body.

But the servants stepped closer, their hands gently but firmly guiding him toward the bathroom. "Your Highness, it is our duty to assist you. Please cooperate," another insisted, eyes polite but unyielding.

Rowan's mind raced and didn't know what to do.

I'm not used to this… I'm not even a man in my head! This is so… weird… so wrong…

His heart then hammered in his chest like it was about to break out, each step toward the bathroom making him feel smaller, more vulnerable and acutely aware of how exposed he truly was.

Every movement, every gesture reminded him that he was no longer Mari—and yet, his mind clung stubbornly to his old identity, creating a dissonance that made even a simple bath feel like an impossible ordeal.

"D-don't look at me! You guys are so rude!" Rowan stammered, trying desperately to cover himself as the servants gently guided him down into the warm bathtub. And that the sudden realization that he was completely naked in front of them made his face burn with embarrassment.

The two men just glanced at each other, silently shaking their heads in mild confusion. Odd… one of them seemed to think, but easier to manage than when he throws a tantrum. Despite the strange resistance, Rowan's current behavior seemed far more predictable than the occasional outbursts of the timid, quiet prince they were used to.

"Your Highness," one servant said carefully, "I will now apply a shampoo to your hair. Please close your eyes."

Rowan's cheeks flushed even deeper but he obediently lowered his eyelids, letting the servant's hands work through his long, dark hair. The warm water flowed over his shoulders, but even the simple act of bathing felt surreal.

It's just a bath… but how long are they going to wash me? Am I going on a honeymoon without me knowing?

"Your Highness," the other servant began, his tone respectful, "this is an oil imported from the southern region. It will make your skin smoother than before. It is made from roses, with a drop of…" He paused, noticing Rowan's tense posture, but continued gently, "…a drop of lavender essence for fragrance. It is very beneficial for the skin."

Rowan stiffened at the scent, the strange mixture of roses and lavender filling his senses.

Why does everything feel so… intimate? he thought, blinking against the warm water.

Every motion and every touch reminded him of the body he now occupied—and of how alien it felt to be cared for in this way, in a world where he was suddenly vulnerable and completely dependent on others.

After an hour and a half of the painstaking bath, Rowan finally stepped out into the palace courtyard where a cool breeze brushed against his damp skin, and sunlight glinted off the stone path. He was shielded by a large, dark umbrella held by his chaperone

—a tall, broad-shouldered knight with deep brown skin and hair as black as Rowan's, standing like a silent guardian by his side.

"How have you been, Your Highness? Are you still in pain? I heard the poison you accidentally ingested was quite potent…" the knight asked with a voice calm yet measured and his eyes was carefully observing Rowan.

Rowan just blinked while confusion knitting in his brows. Poison? That's why I was bedridden? … Maybe it's what Rhydan was talking about at the banquet? The thought made his stomach tighten and a knot of unease forming in his chest.

"I--

Before he could answer, another figure approached—a man with a sword resting at his hip and clad in the gleaming attire of royalty. His hair was short and silver with a sharp blue eye, though subtly different from Rowan's own.

The aura around him was commanding yet strangely refined.

"Let me take over. You may go now," the man said to Rowan's chaperone, stepping closer and lifting the umbrella himself to shield Rowan from the sun's bright rays.

"I understand, Grand Duke. Then, I'll excuse myself and give you some privacy," the chaperone replied respectfully, bowing deeply before stepping aside and exiting the courtyard with silent dignity.

Rowan, himself, froze--heart hammering in his chest. He couldn't remember this man and had never seen him before but something about the silver-haired knight radiated authority, confidence and an unspoken danger.

Every instinct screamed caution and he instinctively stiffened, afraid of what this Grand Duke might demand of him—or what he might do.

Stay calm… just stay calm, Rowan reminded himself trying to keep his trembling hands steady under the umbrella. But his mind raced, questions tumbling over each other.

Who is he? Why is he here? Is he from the manhwa?

And why do I feel like my life is about to get a whole lot more complicated?

Just as Rowan was about to speak, the Grand Duke—whose name he still didn't know suddenly reached out and took his hand. The touch was gentle, deliberate and before Rowan could react, their fingers intertwined and what's more confusing was that, his chest fluttered and a strange warmth was spreading through him.

Rowan froze, blinking at the unexpected intimacy.

W-what the hell is going on? Why is he blushing?

The Grand Duke's cheeks were tinged with pink while his piercing blue eyes softening as he squeezed Rowan's hand slightly. "Let's go to the Pavilion," he said, voice low and surprisingly gentle. "I asked them to prepare some tea to your liking."

Rowan's mind then whirled, still fighting with the sudden physical contact and the stranger's closeness. And when they finally reach the pavilion, the man spoke again, and his tone was carrying a weight that made Rowan's confusion deepen.

"I was really shocked when you asked me during the banquet, my prince," the Grand Duke confessed while his gaze holding Rowan's with an intensity that made his heart pound. "But if it will truly make you happy… then I, Magnus Duskbane, will help you with all that I have."

Bathump… Bathump… Whatttt?

What the hell, why am I hearing my heart now?

Before Rowan could even respond, Magnus leaned slightly closer, pressing a soft, deliberate kiss to the back of his hand and the warmth of the gesture, coupled with the way Magnus's eyes lingered on him, looking almost intimately, sent Rowan's thoughts spinning.

What… is happening?

How does he know I want to leave?

And… why does this feel so… strange?

Are Rowan and this guy Magnus a couple?

Are we in a relationship?

Is he an alpha?

Am I in a relationship now after six years of being single?

The mix of fluster, fear and unexpected curiosity coiled tight in Rowan's chest, leaving him more bewildered than ever. His mind struggled to process the words, the touch and the silent promise behind Magnus's eyes- help, protection and perhaps something more.

"Y-your Grace… did I really ask you to help me escape?" Rowan's voice trembled while his hands nervously twisting at the edge of his robe. His heart hammered in his chest, and each beat echoing like a drum against his ribs.

"Yes," Magnus replied softly, his blue eyes locking onto Rowan's with unwavering intensity. "Here, in this kingdom, omegas such as yourself, my prince, are not allowed to wield a sword. You deserve more than chains and limits so I will help you."

Rowan's mind spun.

Why is he calling me "my prince"?

Are we… actually lovers?

But… I don't remember Rowan having a lover in the manhwa yet…

The sudden intimacy of Magnus' words made his cheeks burn, like a flustered heat spreading to his ears.

"Is that so…" Rowan murmured hesitantly, and his voice was barely audible but when he was about to lower himself onto the chair Magnus had pulled out but before he could sit, a firm yet gentle hand gripped the nape of his neck.

Rowan's breath caught in his throat as Magnus leaned in, pressing his lips to his in a soft, lingering kiss.

W-what? Why the hell are you kissing me?

Should I pull away?

The world seemed to tilt and the sounds of the courtyard and servants fading into nothing as Rowan's heart raced uncontrollably. His chest tightened and warmth spread through his entire body that he didn't know before, when he was still Mari. Magnus's lips were soft but insistent, conveying more than words could

—protection, longing and a deep, unwavering affection that amidst the confusion he felt, he even closed his eyes and felt it.

Shit, this is too much for my heart!

Pulling back slightly, Magnus cupped both of Rowan's cheeks in his hands, thumb brushing lightly over the flushed skin while tears glimmered in his eyes. "I like you, my prince. I really… really like you. If it were just my feelings, I wouldn't want you to leave but if this is your choice, if it will truly make you happy… then I will set aside my own desires for you."

Rowan's breath hitched while his own cheeks flamed with heat, and his chest throbbed not just from fear or confusion but from something far deeper, far more intimate. The trembling of Magnus's hands, the sincerity in his eyes and the quiver of his lips

—it all mirrored the whirlwind of emotions raging inside Rowan.

"What should I say? I'm out of words!" 

For the first time, Rowan felt the sharp, confusing thrill of being wanted, of being cared for in a way that pierced through every layer of fear, shame and disbelief he had carried. His heartbeat was so fast that it hurt, each pulse syncing with the warmth of Magnus's gaze and the soft pressure of his hands against his face.

Is this… love?

Rowan thought, breathless, as Magnus's forehead gently rested against his.

Or is this some fantasy I stumbled into… again?

Am I really in the manhwa or am I in heaven?

Are these things real or just an illusion?

Perhaps, a dream?

The silence that followed was intimate and heavy as Magnus leaned his lips again to his. And that time was filled with unspoken promises, longing and a tension that neither of them could deny. And in that moment, Rowan realized just how dangerously captivating Magnus Duskbane could be—both as a protector and as something far more personal than he had ever expected.

"Should I take him with me, then?"

 

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