From Pawn to King: Ruling a Harem of Chaos
Chapter 196: The True Face of the Sword Maiden

Chapter 196: The True Face of the Sword Maiden

Moments earlier, caught up in the rhythm of practicing her swordplay, Sistine had forgotten she was in the wilderness.

Though she wasn't overly concerned about bathing here, it was a little awkward with so many junior students around.

Shia noticed her hesitation and offered a suggestion.

"Senior, I just found a small stream nearby. There’s a calm section by the bank. Perhaps you can bathe and freshen up there?"

Sistine raised her head and stared at Shia, unsure.

The sticky feeling on her skin was indeed unpleasant, and after a long pause, she nodded slightly.

Shia gave her a warm, reassuring smile and turned to lead the way.

"Don't worry, Senior. I stumbled upon it while preparing food earlier. No one knows about that spot."

Following behind, Sistine softly murmured her acknowledgment.

---

At the stream’s bank, the sound of trickling water echoed.

Moonlight shimmered on the surface, creating ripples of silver.

The golden-haired Sword Maiden stood by the stream, her sharp-angled shoulders exposed, looking elegant under the moonlit glow.

Her graceful back was partially obscured by her wet, cascading hair, the damp strands occasionally revealing glimpses of her fair, luminous skin.

The soaked white gauze dress clung tightly to her body, accentuating her enticing curves.

As her clothing slipped halfway down, Sistine turned slightly, her side profile exquisite yet hesitant. She bit her lip gently before speaking in a soft voice.

"You promise not to look, right?"

A voice whispered in her mind.

He's a friend. Friends don't lie.

That voice made her instinctively want to trust him.

Over the time they’d spent together, she didn’t dislike being around him. In fact, she even felt a subtle fondness.

Shia is a good guy, she thought.

But her close friend’s warning rang in her ears: boys always love to sneak peeks at girls bathing.

Despite her trust in him, a sliver of doubt remained, prompting her to seek reassurance.

Behind her, Shia, with his back to the stream, stood tall and steady like a pine tree. His voice carried to Sistine’s ears.

"Don’t worry, Senior. I won’t peek."

His tone was firm and righteous, embodying the ideal image of a gentleman.

Staring at his unwavering back, Sistine believed him without hesitation. He wouldn’t peek.

And yet…

She bit her lip again, a faint white mark appearing on her red lips.

Even though she trusted her junior, an inexplicable sense of resentment welled up in her heart.

This answer should have reassured her.

Instead, it left her feeling oddly dissatisfied.

It was as if a cloud had cast a shadow over her heart.

Before Shia spoke, she feared the possibility of him peeking, worried it would upset her.

But once he firmly declared he wouldn’t, she felt a strange irritation.

You really won’t look at all?!

Am I not worth looking at?

Lowering her head, Sistine examined herself.

The places that should have flesh have flesh. The places that should be slim are slim. I'm not bad at all!

So why can he so decisively say he won’t look?

Am I not attractive enough?

A woman’s thoughts are always so complex.

To be seen would anger her. But to be ignored was also upsetting.

Shia, with his back to the stream, heard the gentle splashing of water behind him.

The clear, tinkling sound of flowing water was particularly pleasant under the moonlight.

The moonlight climbed over Shia’s shoulders.

From his perspective, the water droplets glimmered like silver crystals in the moonlit spray, falling onto skin as smooth as jade.

Her slender waist, delicate shoulders, and long golden hair cascaded partially into the water, hiding the scenery below.

The curve of her waist tapered before expanding into an enticing silhouette, only to be cut off by the surface of the water.

Her slender, elegant fingers played with the splashes, scattering translucent water droplets.

Beneath the moonlight, the beautiful maiden raised her head slightly, her movements slow and graceful, like a goddess descended to earth.

Yet this goddess seemed distracted.

A light breeze swept over the hills and brushed past the stream.

The white ribbon around Sistine’s body quietly loosened.

"Ah—!"

Shia heard the startled cry behind him and instinctively felt concerned.

When he turned around, the sight before him was breathtakingly close.

The stunning golden-haired maiden had reached out, grasping the fluttering end of her ribbon, and in doing so, had pressed herself tightly against Shia.

Her soft, supple body was now pressed into Shia’s chest.

The intoxicating warmth and softness of her figure were enough to stir any young man’s thoughts.

But Shia’s focus was entirely on Sistine’s face.

Her flawless figure and smooth facial contours, paired with her small, rosy lips, were captivating.

Yet what truly caught his attention were her eyes.

For the first time, the eyes that had always been hidden behind her ribbon were exposed.

On her fair, soft skin, her eyes bore the scars of past burns—dark, disfiguring marks that clashed starkly with her otherwise flawless complexion.

The scars were jarring, like a patch of scorched earth in a lush, green field.

Sistine’s face turned pale as fear and panic overwhelmed her.

Her once-rosy lips grew pallid, trembling as they parted slightly.

She was no longer the calm, composed figure of before.

Instead, she resembled a frightened animal, wary and shaking, her vulnerability laid bare.

Her most painful secret had been exposed.

This was her greatest insecurity, the one she had hidden behind her aloof demeanor.

But now, her cold mask had shattered, revealing her most fragile and helpless self to Shia.

What should I do?

Fear surged like a tidal wave, drowning her.

Her entire body felt cold, as though she had been plunged into a deep abyss.

The ribbon swayed gently in the breeze, one end still clutched in the Sword Maiden’s trembling hand, while the other had landed on Shia’s neck.

He reached out, taking hold of the ribbon.

Gently, Shia tied the ribbon back in place.

The white ribbon once again covered Sistine’s eyes, concealing the scars.

The warmth of the boy's breath, his tender movements, and his gentle presence made her feel as if light was breaking through the abyss, illuminating her world.

Shia's voice was soft, like a spring breeze whispering, "It's alright. No one saw."

His tone carried no pity, no disdain, only the calm reassurance of a simple truth.

Under his soothing words, Sistine gradually regained her composure.