Chapter 350: Grooming My Lady’s Brows

A night of passion made the morning feel far too short. Though today was the day of Isolde’s return visit to her maiden home, even the strictest of housekeepers couldn’t bring themselves to wake the newlyweds too early. Oliver was always disciplined. He rose before dawn, as usual. Esme, however, had assumed the couple would sleep in, so she had instructed the servants not to disturb them.

By the time Oliver and Isolde got up, no one had come to prepare their morning routine. So, they went straight to the kitchen in Ningser Pavilion to heat water themselves.

Isolde had grown up on the estate, where life wasn’t overly refined. As a lady of the house, she had been allowed to do as she pleased, which included learning practical skills. The estate was a place where hard work was valued, and no one had ever told her she was too noble to lift a finger. In fact, being capable was seen as a survival skill. In her previous life, when she joined the army, she was grateful to the women who had raised her without indulgence.

As for Oliver, cooking was beyond him, but building fires? That was second nature. A general who couldn’t even light a fire would be a joke among his men.

Once the water was heated, they returned to their quarters to freshen up. After washing, Isolde sat before the mirror, brushing her long hair. Oliver, watching her intently, suddenly spoke.

“I’ve heard that when a man truly loves his wife, he’ll shape her brows for her.”

Isolde arched one brow. “Oh? And do you know how?”

“It can’t be that hard,” Oliver said with confidence. Trimming a shape and filling it in – surely it was no more difficult than sharpening a blade.

Isolde smirked. “Alright, then. My brows are too thick. Trim them down and make them finer before you fill them in.”

“Got it.” Oliver, already intrigued, grew even more eager. She handed him the razor and turned slightly, closing her eyes. Oliver pressed a kiss to her forehead before steadying her face in his hands.

“You want them thinner, right?” he asked.

“Mhm. Something like Hazel’s – delicate, like willow leaves.”

Oliver tried to recall Hazel’s brows. He had never paid attention to them before, but he certainly knew what a willow leaf looked like. He ran his fingers over Isolde’s brows, mapping out his plan. “Alright, so the arch should be soft. The…”

Isolde was taken aback. For such a rugged man, he had quite the eye for detail.

“That’s exactly right.”

“Good. Now keep your eyes closed. If you keep looking at me, I might get ideas about going for round nine.” Oliver placed his hand over her eyes.

Isolde immediately shut them tight. She knew better than to challenge him. The razor was cold against her skin. Oliver warmed it in his hands before beginning. His touch was surprisingly steady. Isolde, impressed, murmured, “You’ve done this before?”

“Never.”

“Then why are you so good at it?”

“Hold still. I shave my own face, don’t I?”

Isolde chuckled. “Then from now on, I’ll shave your face, and you’ll do my brows.”

“Deal.” His voice sounded slightly muffled.

A while passed.

“Almost done?” she asked.

“Just… a little more,” Oliver muttered.

“It’s fine, don’t overdo it. I don’t need perfection,” she reassured him.

“Mhm. Just a little longer.” His movements were growing less precise. He’d shave one area, then another, then back again – until finally, he set the razor down with a sigh of relief.

“Alright, done. But… maybe don’t look just yet. Let me fill them in first.”

Isolde laughed. “Fine, go ahead.”

She watched him intently as he picked up the brow brush. His expression was one of complete concentration. With his long lashes and the way his eyes slightly narrowed when he focused, he was… utterly mesmerizing. Maybe she would go for round nine after all.

Outside, footsteps approached. Hattie and Hazel hesitated at the door before pushing it open.

“Oh? You’re already up?” Hazel called out. Then she turned back and shouted, “Esme! They’re awake – have someone bring hot water!”

Irritated, Oliver snapped, “Why are you yelling? We’re already washed. Stay back and keep quiet.”

Hattie and Hazel exchanged glances, then stepped inside… and froze.

“Wait… are you… painting her eyebrows?” Hazel gawked, jaw nearly unhinged.

“Almost done,” Oliver grumbled. “Step back and don’t interrupt.”

Hattie yanked Hazel backward, whispering, “This is… bizarrely romantic.”

Esme stepped in behind them, only to be met with the same sight. Her eyes widened, but before she could speak, Hattie clamped a hand over her mouth. “Shh.” Esme stared at the two of them, then back at the unusual scene before her.

Today was returning-to-the-maiden-home day.

“Alright, all done,” Oliver finally announced. “But… it might not look great. First time and all.”

Isolde smiled and turned to the mirror. “Don’t worry, my brows aren’t—” She stopped mid-sentence, staring at her reflection. Two thick, uneven, caterpillar-like streaks arched across her forehead.

“Wash them off,” Oliver said immediately.

“Agreed.” Isolde had never agreed to anything faster in her life.

Esme sighed in relief. “Bring warm water, quickly.” Today of all days, Isolde had to look her best. She couldn’t return to her family looking like she had two smudged slugs on her face.

Noelle rushed in with a basin and a towel. She wet the cloth and wiped the paint off – but as she did, something terrible was revealed.

“Where’s the hair?” Noelle gasped.

Esme, Hattie, and Hazel crowded around, peering in horror. Isolde’s eyebrows – aside from a tiny bit near the start – were gone. Patchy. Uneven. Missing in chunks.

“What happened?!” Esme panicked. “This is worse than the caterpillars!”

Isolde shot her a look, but Esme was already staring at Oliver. “General… this was your handiwork?”

Oliver nodded, solemn.

Esme quickly changed her tone. “Ahem. Well… it’s unique. Very artistic.”

“So artistic that perhaps Oliver should do your brows next?” Hattie teased.

“Silence!” Esme swatted her. “Who’s born knowing how to shape brows? It takes practice! He just needs—”

“More practice?” Hattie snickered. “She needs to grow them back first.”

Esme smacked her forehead. “Fine. Let’s focus on fixing this first!”