Chapter 12

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 12

Chapter Title: The Count's Family's Strange Guest (2)

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“Isabella, you still look so lovely. You haven't changed a bit.”

“Master Ethan, it's been a while, and you've become even more dashing.”

“Ah, no need to flatter me. I've gotten on in years.”

Ethan stroked his chin and sat down on the sofa. Isabella gave me a glance. I quickly set the teacup down in front of him, still holding the tray.

“Thank you.”

For such a small thing, he smiled warmly at me. It felt odd seeing a man dressed in such fine clothes, clearly of high status, being so kind to a mere maid like me.

“Vincent's condition has gotten a lot worse since I last saw him. He wasn't this bad back then. How long has he been holed up in his room?”

“About half a year now.”

“Half a year... I see.”

Ethan gave a bitter smile. Worry was etched into it. He definitely knew about Vincent's state.

He knew that Vincent had gone blind.

To know something even the other servants here were kept in the dark about meant their bond ran deep.

“Vincent and I are friends. Very close friends.”

I must have been staring at him intently without realizing, because Ethan kindly added the explanation. I quickly lowered my gaze and bowed my head.

“I'm sorry.”

“Haha, no need to apologize. You're the new one who just arrived, right?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm, you have a different vibe from the maids I saw before...”

He looked me over appraisingly. I tensed up, my body going rigid for no reason.

Fortunately, the topic shifted soon enough.

“Does Vincent just stay in his room all the time?”

“Yes.”

“His current state... that incident just now says it all. I heard about it. Even after I left, there were a few more bad incidents. I was away on business matters for a bit, but I was too careless.”

“Master Ethan, you did everything you could.”

Ethan toyed with his teacup and smiled wryly.

“Isabella, between the family and my friend, I chose the family. That's the truth. The timing was off too, but that's just an excuse in the end. I arbitrarily decided Vincent could handle things on his own and left. But I never wanted him to end up like this...”

“Master Ethan.”

“I've never seen Vincent like that before. Not even when Lord and Lady Bellunita died in that accident.”

Ethan's face darkened. It was filled with worry and sorrow for his friend. To me, it looked strangely touching—feeling someone else's pain as if it were his own. Was that what true friendship was like?

What the heck. He'd been acting like he was all alone in the world, scared of everything, but he had a friend like this? It was surprising that my crabby master had someone like him.

“Isabella, this time I have to see Vincent's face. If I leave like this, I won't sleep a wink every night.”

“We'll prepare a room for you.”

Isabella signaled to me. I nodded and left the drawing room.

“Does it taste good?”

“It's fine.”

Vincent scooped up some rice porridge and put it in his mouth. The way he chewed slowly and silently exuded a noble's refined grace.

Lately, Vincent had started eating on his own. It was an astonishing change. The day after that dreamlike night, when I handed him the spoon as usual out of courtesy, he slowly began to eat the porridge. I was stunned watching him.

'Wh-what's this? You're eating so obediently.'

'You shove it down so hard it presses on your throat—aren't you tired? I figured you'd choke to death someday.'

'You sure know how to joke.'

'Not a joke.'

It wasn't that bad, whatever. I grumbled inwardly, but I couldn't help being moved by the sight of him feeding himself. It felt like the time I tamed the stray cat that hung around Uncle Mark's bakery.

'Are you feeling unwell anywhere?'

'Shut up before I throw you out.'

His temper was the same as ever.

Still, it was a heartwarming change. But the amount he ate was disappointing. Looking at the bowl of porridge he'd barely half-finished, I cautiously suggested.

“How about just a little more?”

“I'm full.”

“Just a bit more.”

“I said I'm full.”

Vincent scowled fiercely. Smacking my lips in regret, I took the bowl.

“You need to take your medicine. Here.”

I pulled his hand and made him hold the medicine bowl, and he obediently drank it down. Good, good. I gazed at him contentedly. Once he'd emptied the bowl, I pulled out the round thing I'd prepared in my pocket ahead of time. I peeled off the shell around the core and popped it into his mouth.

“What's this?”

“Candy. You always say the medicine is bitter, so I brought some to freshen your mouth afterward.”

“Do I look like a child to you?”

In my eyes, his body might be grown, but his heart was still a kid's. He didn't spit it out, though, so it must have been bitter after all.

“What happened with that guy?”

“Who do you mean?”

“The one who came this morning.”

“Oh, Master Ethan Christopher said he'll be staying here for a few days. He insisted on seeing your face.”

At that, Vincent squeezed his eyes shut. His face looked like he'd glimpsed hell. He even let out a rare sigh and rubbed his face with both hands. Seeing him like that reminded me of the guest from earlier. He'd seemed genuinely worried—why did Vincent hate him so much? I couldn't understand it.

“Want to meet him?”

“No. Don't let him into this room. Ever.”

Vincent waved his hand dismissively and lay down on the bed. Watching him, I finally said what I'd been holding back for so long.

“Master, you need to wash up.”

“...”

But he turned away without a word. Curled up toward the wall, he showed no will to wash at all. I stared blankly at his back for a moment, then crept closer and sniffed. My face wrinkled up.

I grabbed his arm and draped it over my shoulder, supporting his body as I pulled him off the bed. Vincent, dragged down unexpectedly, twisted away immediately. Just a few days ago, he would have yelled and raged, but now he asked in a resigned voice.

“What are you doing?”

“You stink.”

I gripped his arm tightly. This time, I wasn't letting go. It was the smell I'd noticed since first entering this room. At first it was unfamiliar, then I was too busy catering to his moods to care, and before I knew it, I'd gotten used to it. I'd wiped down his exposed face, neck, and hands with wet cloths at best, but it wasn't enough. Even today, the stench coming off him was giving me a headache.

“When was the last time you bathed? The smell is piercing my nose. If you can't see, why not ask a servant for help?”

“Let go and stop talking nonsense.”

“After you wash.”

I'd gone to the bathroom as soon as I entered the room and filled the tub. Today, I was determined to get him clean. Vincent flapped the arm around my shoulder, but overpowering his weak resistance was easy. Gripping the arm tight, I wrapped my other hand around his back and waist, dragging him to the bathroom. It was more like pulling him along. Even as we entered and headed for the tub, he resisted fiercely.

When we reached the tub, I guided his hand to it. He groped and grabbed it hard. I could see the intent to flip it over on his face. Startled, I seized his wrist, but he held on stubbornly.

I tried to pull him away from the tub, while he resisted—a battle of strength ensued. It went on for a while until I lost my balance. But since I still had his arm over my shoulder, he tumbled forward too.

Splash! We both collapsed onto the bathroom floor. Looking back in shock, I saw Vincent dunked in the tub. Soaked through, he looked startled at first, then began trembling. With rage.

“...Are you okay?”

“You... you...”

He couldn't even speak. Seeing him like that left me speechless too. When I tentatively grabbed his arm, he slapped it away sharply. Then he gripped the tub himself and tried to stand. But it was slippery from the water—he kept slipping back in. Each time, water sloshed and drenched him more. He probably didn't need a bath anymore.

“...”

Suddenly, his movements stopped. I was tense, watching him intently, when the door suddenly opened. Footsteps followed, and Isabella entered the bathroom. She saw me and Vincent in the tub, then halted.

Her face showed brief surprise. But as expected, she stayed composed.

“Next time, it might be better to undress first.”

“...”

“I have something to tell you. I'll take over from here.”

She looked at me. Seizing the chance, I bowed quickly and turned away. Grabbing the laundry I'd gathered, I scurried out of the room. I survived!

“Master Ethan came, right?”

Lenika asked as she came for the laundry. We ran into each other once a day now, enough for simple chit-chat. I glanced over what she'd brought and replied.

“Do you know him?”

“He's the master's friend. And the second son of the Christopher family, too.”

“Sounds like a big deal.”

“He is famous. Not just the family—it's because he's so handsome.”

Lenika held her hand in front of her face and wiggled it up and down. Handsome? Well, he did have striking looks. And he was polite even to servants like me.

“He seemed kind enough.”

“Yes, he's so gentle. Us lower folk get looked down on by the higher-ups all the time, right? But Master Ethan doesn't ignore us—he treats us nicely. That's why all the female servants think so highly of him.”

“I see.”

“I've only ever seen him from afar. How nice it would be to even exchange a word with him.”

Lenika cupped her cheeks and giggled. Her face flushed with dreamy bliss, imagining talking to Ethan.

“Master Ethan Christopher is in the annex guest room. If you want to see him, just go to the annex later. You might even bump into him and say hello.”

“No way! We can't go into the annex.”

Lenika waved her hand, telling me not to say such scary things. I widened my eyes in surprise.