Chapter 322: Teaching the Vampire Maid How to...
Now, Elmenhilde could somewhat understand the fearful feelings of the servants she had scolded in the past.
If the water temperature was even slightly unsatisfactory, she would reprimand and punish them. Now, she was experiencing the same thing.
When the maids washed her feet, if they were too gentle, she would scold them, "Did you not eat?"
If they were too rough, she would scold them, "Are you trying to ruin my beautiful skin?"
Now, she found herself in a similar situation, and she had even carelessly scratched his back with her nails, leaving marks.
This happened because she slipped accidentally, and her hands instinctively grabbed at something, resulting in this outcome.
So, she trembled with fear, afraid of being hit.
In the end, he only glared at her and then demanded that she alleviate the pain of the scratches by licking them.
When licking, if she was too forceful, he would complain; if she was too gentle, it wasn't acceptable either. After seven or eight attempts, she finally reached a satisfactory level.
So, this was even more demanding than she had ever been!
Wasn't this just making things difficult? Wasn't this humiliating her?
Ah, it seemed that was indeed the case—this was retaliation for her previous arrogance and rudeness.
So, Elmenhilde could only bite her lip and swallow the bitterness in her heart.
Then came an even more bewildering scene: after cleaning his back, it was time to move to the front.
"What are you standing there for? I'm very busy. Don't waste my time!"
"I-I know."
After flusteredly responding, Elmenhilde stepped forward and began washing.
As she washed, she suddenly became bewildered.
Because after the foam was rinsed away, she clearly saw a certain spot and was startled.
Could it be that she was the one who caused it to become such a terrifying sight?
When the scalding hot tea spilled earlier, it happened to land right on that spot.
"Th-this is..."
She lifted her face—flushed either from the steam or some other reason—and looked at the other person, stammering with a trembling voice.
"What do you think?"
Receiving such a response meant it really was her fault?
As a result, it had become so severely burned and gruesome.
"I-I'll treat it right away."
Elmenhilde began casting a healing spell.
However—
"Wh-why? Why isn't it working?"
For an ordinary burn and swelling, such treatment should have allowed recovery, yet there was no effect at all before her eyes, making Elmenhilde even more panicked.
If this couldn't be healed, the consequences were unimaginable.
After all, this was a significant injury to the other person, and she couldn't imagine how they might retaliate against her.
If it were only retaliation against her, that would be one thing—though Elmenhilde was terrified and fearful, she was even more afraid of brutal retaliation against her family.
"I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to."
A trembling voice tinged with sobs escaped her delicate lips as Elmenhilde anxiously intensified her healing spell, but it truly had no effect at all.
She timidly glanced at the other person, whose face showed no anger but rather seemed amused as they watched her, which only frightened her more.
"So, an apology is enough, is it?"
"N-no, it's not. If possible, if punishment is necessary, could you punish only me? Please don't punish my family."
After these words, the other person fell silent.
This silence made Elmenhilde even more tense, like a criminal waiting for the judge's verdict in a courtroom.
She cautiously looked up—
"Why are you looking at me? Heal it."
"Ah? I—this—"
The healing isn't working.
"Try physical therapy."
"Physical therapy?"
Elmenhilde's moist eyes showed confusion, not understanding what to do.
"For example, if you sprain your ankle, what do you do?"
"Cast a healing spell on myself."
"And if your magic is exhausted? Do you do nothing?"
"Well... use healing medicine?"
Right, healing medicine, right? But she hadn't brought any—should she rush home to get it?
"Not that. What physical action would you take yourself?"
"Ah?"
Elmenhilde was somewhat bewildered, then, as if realizing something, her lips parted slightly.
"Rub it... in such cases, it seems to ease the pain a bit."
Muttering to herself, her eyes gradually brightened.
So that's how it is.
In the past, she had accidentally burned her hand and was taught a method: pinch her ear and gently rub it, and the hand would gradually stop hurting.
Although it seemed like the hand was rubbing the ear, wasn't it actually the ear rubbing the hand in reverse?
"Then what are you waiting for?"
"Ah, I-I understand."
So, Elmenhilde, blushing, prepared to massage the severely scalded area.
She cautiously touched it, appearing as if afraid of causing pain, yet also seeming to handle something terrifying, fearful of making contact.
Alternatively, it could be described as someone with severe mysophobia struggling to touch a dirty spot.
Very lightly, her hand trembled slightly—whether it was her own hand shaking or the other person's, she couldn't tell.
"Stop!"
"Huh?"
Elmenhilde froze for a moment before hurriedly retracting her hand as if struck by lightning.
Driven by instinct, she even made a disgusted gesture of shaking and wiping her hands but instantly stiffened.
After all, behaving like this in front of the other person would only worsen their mood, wouldn't it?
"Your hands are too rough."
Hearing this, Elmenhilde was left dumbfounded.
Her hands were rough?
These delicate, almost fragile hands of hers were rough?
By any measure, they were smooth, soft, and utterly adorable little hands, weren't they?
This had to be a malicious slander in response to her earlier disgusted reaction.
So, for someone like her, who had been adored and served since birth!!!
"You—"
She nearly unleashed her noble lady's temper, but under the other's amused gaze, she shuddered and suppressed it immediately.
"S-sorry."
She apologized at once.
"Then, what should I do?"
"What should you do, you ask?"
The other person laughed, a laugh that sent a chill down Elmenhilde's spine.
Then, they proceeded to instruct her on what to do.