Leo was thankful his clothes were black; it kept the bloodstains from standing out too obviously. Still, the crimson smeared across his face and hands was impossible to miss. Yet even then, his mind was more curious about those photographs than about his wounds.
But after hearing Clorinde say they contained confidential intelligence tied to Merope's Fortress, his curiosity faded. After all, he was only a guard. Protecting Lady Furina's safety was his foremost duty. Matters of state secrets were best left to others.
What I should really be thinking about… is what to cook for Furina tomorrow morning.
"Alright," he said, shaking his head lightly, "I'll go back first. See you tomorrow."
By then, several Gardemeks had already surrounded the scene, their lights casting bright beams across Leo's blood-stained figure.
Clorinde's sharp gaze lingered on him. She studied his distinctive attire, then his immaculately styled hair.
"Well-dressed from head to toe," she thought, her lips curving faintly. A proper gentleman… and a handsome one at that.
Leo offered her a faint smile, then vaulted lightly onto a nearby rooftop, heading back toward Merope's Fortress.
Clorinde looked down at the stack of photos in her hand. Instead of handing them over to the Gardemeks as evidence, she slipped them directly into her pocket.
Why?
Because these photos weren't confidential intelligence at all. They were candid shots—of Leo and Furina walking under the moonlight, trying on clothes, sharing meals. Sweet, intimate moments stolen through a Fatui lens.
Could she really hand over such personal treasures to a machine? Of course not. It would be far better to bring them to the Fortress of Meropide, to show Wriothesley—and perhaps trade a little information in return.
Elsewhere, Leo slipped back in through the fortress window, only to find Neuvillette already waiting for him.
The Iudex's eyes widened slightly at the sight of Leo's bloodied face and hands. Then his gaze shifted, taking in the luxurious outfit Leo wore. He even compared it briefly to his own attire.
"The clothes suit you. Furina has always had excellent taste." His tone was calm as ever, though curious. "Now—what happened?"
Leo blinked, caught off guard that Neuvillette's first comment had been on his outfit of all things. Shaking off the thought, he recounted the earlier events.
Neuvillette listened quietly, then gave a simple nod.
"It's no major matter. The Fatui are tailing us again. I'll put pressure on the delegation from Snezhnaya. As for the shattered glass… leave that to me."
"Thank you, Lord Neuvillette."
"Think nothing of it."
Back in his quarters, Leo wasted no time. He headed straight for the bath. The blood was stubborn; if he didn't wash it out quickly, it might never come out at all.
In the past, whenever his black uniforms were stained like this, he would simply discard them. But this outfit? Absolutely not.
It had been chosen by Furina herself, with her own hands. He couldn't possibly throw it away—especially when it still carried the faint scent of her perfume. Though the fragrance was now buried under the iron tang of blood, he was certain it would return once washed.
I mustn't lose it.
Turning on the water, Leo worked with focus—washing both himself and the clothing at once, determined to save time and leave them spotless.
Meanwhile, in Leo's room, Furina lay curled up at the very edge of his bed, plotting mischievously. She intended to give her "little guard" quite the scare.
This time, he didn't drink at all… Well, almost none. Barely a sip. Negligible.
Yet she hadn't expected to be kept waiting so long.
Suddenly, from the bathroom came his weary complaint:
"Why is blood so difficult to wash out…?"
Furina froze. The key word struck her heart. Blood?
Was he hurt?
Sitting upright in alarm, she thought of running to check on him. After all, there was a metallic scent in the air that confirmed her fear. But then she hesitated.
Wait. He's in the bath right now. Probably with no clothes at all… If I barge in, it'll be like a little lamb walking straight into the wolf's den.
Her face flushed at the thought. Furina dove back under the quilt, bracing herself for the moment he returned.
At last, after great effort, Leo scrubbed away the blood. Exhausted, he toweled off, slipped into shorts, and stepped out with his upper body bare.
He switched on the light, laid the photos neatly on his desk and bedside table, and studied them.
His eyes softened as he touched Furina's captured image with his fingertips. For a fleeting moment, excitement warmed his chest.
On impulse, he pulled out paper and wrote a brief letter, attaching one of the photos. Opening the window, he let it drift into the night air. The wind would carry it wherever fate intended.
With that done, Leo turned back, lifted the quilt, and prepared to collapse into bed.
But before he could, Furina shot upright with a sharp cry:
"Ah!"
Startled, Leo stumbled back several steps, staring wide-eyed at her playful smirk.
Lady Furina… in my bed again?
She clutched her stomach, laughing so hard she curled into herself.
"Hahaha! Leo, you're so timid! Truly hilarious!"
But then her gaze fell on his exposed torso, and her laughter faltered. Her cheeks flushed red as she whipped around, covering her eyes.
"Why aren't you wearing clothes?!"
Only then did Leo realize. He scrambled into his pajamas at once.
"Lady Furina! Why are you in my bed again? And last night too!"
Her blush deepened, but she quickly defended herself:
"I heard fighting. I thought assassins had come. I was scared, so I came to find you. You're my bodyguard—you'd protect me. But you weren't in the room, so I hid here instead."
"As for yesterday—let's not bring that up again. It's in the past!" She crossed her arms, huffing. "Besides, sleeping with the God of Justice in your arms… it's already very merciful of me not to lock you away in the Fortress of Meropide!"
Leo scratched his head, overwhelmed by her words.
"It's alright, Lady Furina. I already dealt with the assassin."
"You're not hurt, are you?" she pressed, stepping closer.
Before he could stop her, Furina's hands were all over him—checking his chest, shoulders, arms. Heat rushed to Leo's face; her touch left his skin burning and ticklish.
"No, no," he stammered. "I'm fine. Not a scratch."
Satisfied, Furina nodded. She turned as if to leave—but then flopped back onto the bed instead, settling in comfortably.
Leo froze.
"Lady Furina… aren't you going back?"
"Go back? Why should I? I want to sleep here—with you!"
"…Eh?!" Leo nearly choked. "Lady Furina, you want to sleep with me?"
She rose to her feet, eyes sparkling mischievously. With a sly smile, she hooked a finger under his chin.
"The first two words gave it away. Good night, Leo."
Dodging past his stunned form, Furina slipped through the door, closing it behind her. She had the key anyway.
Moments later, laughter rang through the halls of Merope's Fortress, echoing brightly against the night.
"Hahaha!"