Private Tutor to the Duke’s Daughter: Volume 10 [Parts 1 to 3] by Riku Nanano

Author:Riku Nanano
Language: eng
Format: epub

“Outside Atlasian, Bazelian capitals, standoff with enemy forces continues”

“After returning to own domain, Marchesa Rondoiro petitions assembly in writing, urges immediate peace with kingdom”

“Marchese Carnien in address to assembly: peace would jeopardize league’s honor”

“Doge Pisani and Deputy Nitti in days of closed-door meetings”

Upon my return from the large hotel baths, I took a seat on the sofa and toweled off my hair while I perused the local papers that Paolo had delivered. I wore a slightly oversize yukata—a pleasantly breathable product of the southern capital. Lydia really had thought of everything.

She must have had her sights set on the city of water all along, the sly devil.

I poured myself a cup of ice water from a glass bottle on the round side table and folded up the newspapers. Public opinion in the league was divided, it seemed, between hawks and doves. But why was the southern Marchese Carnien in the former camp? The six southern principalities had had a fear of the Leinsters beaten into them over the course of the previous three Southern Wars. That experience probably explained Marchesa Rondoiro’s push for peace. And yet...

“I can’t make heads or tails of this,” I groaned. No one was likely to approach Lydia or me while this state of affairs persisted.

On the other hand, a Nitti is involved.

I chuckled, recalling a headstrong and hopelessly frank man of that name whom I had known at the Royal Academy. He might not remember me—especially since we had only really spoken once, at my graduation. But I remembered him and the look that he’d worn when he’d unleashed his anger on me. I was still dwelling on it when the bathroom door opened and Atra bolted out, wearing a white nightgown.

“Allen!” the child cried in her musical way, leaping straight at me. I caught her with a towel I’d kept handy for the purpose—she hadn’t even dried her hair yet.

“Here now, you can’t go forgetting to towel off!” I scolded the girl while she happily nuzzled her head against my belly. “Now, sit right there. I’ll dry—”

“I’ll dry Atra,” Lydia interjected, toweling off her own head as she emerged.

I gulped. She wore a decidedly adult negligee, which bared her shoulders and collarbones despite her jacket. I had to struggle not to stare.

Lydia picked up a chair, set it down in front of me, and sat. “You’ll do my hair,” she said, handing me a brush. “Atra, sit on my lap.”

I obeyed in silence—it was unwise to argue on such occasions. Atra likewise did as she was told, tail wagging.

Lydia gave a tiny, ticklish shudder and moan as I gently ran a soft towel over her short scarlet locks. Then, with a combination of wind magic and temperature control, I began to blow them dry.

“Hold your head still, Atra,” Lydia scolded the happily chirping child. “It’s harder to dry you when— Mmm.”

“I wish you wouldn’t squirm either, Lydia,” I said.

“Excuse me?!”

“Why are you angry at me?!”

“Meee!” Atra sang.

We went on like that for a while, Lydia drying Atra’s hair while I tended to hers.

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