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The ever grateful and humble noble breathed out a sigh. Not of relief, but one of bother. The very important person section of the hotspring did not have any walls or a roof, so when he would speak to himself, he was not meant with the pleasant echo of his own voice.

A travesty, possibly even a crime. He would have to forward his grave concerns and legitimate criticism to the temple priestesses. Perhaps his lady, the ever- well the usually shimmering goddess of the sun wanted him to educate them. Like an experienced master would to his flock of witless students.

The darkhaired nobleman rose to his feet, basking in his own state of being. It was almost illegal to be as fortunate and blessed as he were. If only his mother could see him now. Not in the spring, but the wonders he would bring to Dawnhaven.

Ayel stepped out of the spring, and felt confident the water had now been graced even further by his flawless shape. The very thought made him chuckle as he looked for a towel. A towel. He did not bring a towel! Not even a piece of cloth to dry his regal goddess-given body.

A sheer moment of controllee panic filled him. He tried his best to breathe. He couldn't dress in his clothes, they would get wet and then freeze. Neither could he wait for himself to dry as it was too cold. The nobleman got back into the water, sank down with just his nose and eyes above the surface. He was cooking up a plan. Despite feeling like a piece of pork in a stew on the stove.

He couldn't even dry himself off with his coat, because then he would have to wait for it to dry by the big brazier in the main hall, not only that, people would see him and start gossiping like commoners usually would.

Gossip about him not being able to afford a towel and forced to use his coat would spread like wildfire. He would be the laughing stock in the refined noble circles. He could not let that happen.

He had to find a towel. He glanced down to the commoner section of the spring and frowned. No. Absolutely not. He would not dirty his pristine body with a towel for commoners.

He raised his left hand to his mouth, holding back the need to throw up.

No. He had to go and find a towel, the inside of the temple was still warm enough for him to traverse, despite lacking an attire. He scurried out of the water towards the door, opening it slightly and peeking outside.

How hard could it be to find a towel. What was it that the blonde servant woman had babbled about? 

'Keep your thoughts to yourself...  disturb priestesses for added duties...' He mentally phrased to himself. That did sound right. Due to his own voice in his head having taken rightious priority before when he was being escorted to the spring, he wasn't a hundred percent certain.

It made him for a moment feel a tinge of doubt in himself, but he soon after shook his head violently. She was just a vommon servant, those were definitely not worth his time.

The nobleman spotted the piece of paper placed on the door. Truly his perception were without equal.

He stretched out his statue-esque perfectly biologically made arm to snatch it. Then he read what was written on it. First he furrowed his eyebrows, this handwriting was worthy of his critique, but he had gotten used to Faldrin's writing. He was also a filthy commoner without proper writing precision and refinement.

'Peacock warning?! At the spring? Why would anyone be worried, I literally hunted most of them down in the forests near the capitol. My coat did require a large amount of feathers after all. It was a sacrifice I was willing to make. Besides my coat turned out perfectly.' He nodded and thought for a moment. This piece of paper could be used as an ample cover for him in his search for a towel.

He couldn't afford that noble-hungry blonde servant woman to spot him in all his glory. He was stunning after all, and commoner girls were known to fawn over charming rich noblemen like himself and possibly could hold themselves back.

The Marquess felt a cold shiver up his spine, was it the cold weather or the very idea of some unclean commoner coming into contact with his noble being. He wasn't certain. This lack of certainty made him worry. And worry led to rash ideas. And rash ideas led to mistakes. And mistakes led to- he didn't have time. He was getting that towel. He stepped out clad in the paper as his only shield.

"Servant! I demand a towel of exquisite material!" He called out. He felt at ease. With this he would show he did not forget a towel, no he demanded the servants to serve him. Perfect. The door clicked behind him.

"Hm?"