----------------------------------------------------------------- Translator: Harry Potta Chapter: 35 Chapter Title: The Count's Circumstances (5) ----------------------------------------------------------------- "Lucas, sir?" "Yeah. He'll be staying here for a while, so keep that in mind." He handed me his discarded...
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Translator: Harry Potta
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: The Count's Circumstances (5)
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"Lucas, sir?"
"Yeah. He'll be staying here for a while, so keep that in mind."
He handed me his discarded clothes and took the fresh ones I offered. Lately, he was wearing casual outfits more often than pajamas. Seeing his refreshed face, now full of healthy color from proper washing and eating well, I voiced the question that immediately sprang to mind.
"May I ask one thing?"
"Go ahead."
"Is it really okay for Lucas to be staying in this mansion?"
He looked at me after buttoning up his sleeves. I glanced down subtly. The shirt looked fine at first, but the buttons were off by one each. I approached him, unfastened them all, and rebuttoned them properly, one by one.
"Looks like the buttons are mismatched today."
"......"
Vincent stayed silent until every button was done. Worried he might be upset, I peeked up at him, but he showed no sign of it. Instead, his hand pressed firmly down on my head. The pressure was so intense it felt like it might bury me into the ground. I flailed and yelped, but he mercilessly ruffled my hair anyway.
Only after my hair was a total mess did he let go. It was my first time experiencing contact like that—I was utterly shocked. As I touched my disheveled hair and widened my eyes in surprise, I caught sight of his mischievously upturned lips.
"He's fine, so don't worry."
That was a relief, but...
No, wait—why mess with my hair?
"Paula. You're staring again."
"Yes. I am."
I bowed stiffly at the waist, and laughter trickled down from above my head.
"Do you remember me?"
"Yes. You're Ethan's younger brother, right?"
"Lucas Christopher."
"Yes."
"Lucas Christopher."
So? I tilted my head, and he laughed again. But his smile felt slightly off—like he was annoyed. I rolled my eyes around. Did he want me to use his name?
"......Lucas, sir?"
"Yes, Paula."
His face lit up with delight. Maybe because he was Ethan's brother, but Lucas did smile a lot. Just calling his name once had him beaming like that. I'd called him in the early hours too—did he not remember?
"Here to clean?"
"Yes."
I shot him a look that said he should step out for a bit. But he didn't budge. Oh—my face wasn't visible, so maybe I needed to say it outright.
"I'll just sit here, so go ahead and make yourself comfortable."
With that, Lucas settled into a chair at the nearby table, a book in hand. From his demeanor, it seemed he had no intention of leaving. Well, if that was the case. Since he'd given permission, I got to cleaning.
First, I changed the bed linens, pillowcases, and sheets. Then I swept the floor. In the quiet room, only the soft swish of the broom echoed. As I moved around cleaning every corner, I paid extra attention to the edges.
But... something was off. My back kept feeling warm lately.
I turned around to see the back of Lucas's head as he read. No? I tilted my head and refocused on cleaning, but the warmth returned. It felt exactly like someone watching me.
By the time the 'warmth' turned into a 'prickle,' I spun around again.
"Did you have something to say?"
"Me? No."
Lucas denied it with a calm smile. I narrowed my eyes. His reply was too quick—like he'd prepared it in advance.
"Then why do you keep staring?"
"I wouldn't."
"Really?"
"Yes. I haven't."
He was so firm that I didn't feel like pressing further. Was it really just my imagination? It felt suspicious, but if I was wrong, it'd be embarrassing, so I dove back into cleaning. As I picked up the rag to wipe the furniture, I sensed a presence behind me.
"This."
A unfamiliar touch brushed my hair, startling me so much that I froze. The rag slipped from my hand with a wet splat on the floor. I turned creakily to find Lucas looking surprised.
"Sorry. Did I scare you?"
"A little... Um, what are you doing?"
"This."
In his hand was a white hair ribbon.
"You were agonizing over it and finally settled on giving her this, huh."
"Pardon?"
"It's from Violet, right?"
I nodded.
"My sister said she wanted to give Paula a gift and spent days agonizing over it. She finally chose a hair ribbon, but then fretted that there were too many matching options. She obsessed over the design and color for ages before picking this one."
He twirled the ribbon's edge between his fingers. My gaze followed it.
"For the record, I chimed in that this one would suit her best."
"Ah, yes. Thank you."
Was that what he wanted to say after scaring me half to death? Craving some credit, maybe?
I took the ribbon back from his hand. I wound it tightly so he couldn't snatch it again, and Lucas watched me with a smile.
"It really suits you."
"Thank you."
"I thought the pure white would go perfectly with Paula."
I laughed it off as a joke. Lucas laughed along with me. He seemed in high spirits, grinning nonstop. A far cry from the deathly pale look he'd had at dawn. Come to think of it, why had he come to see Vincent in the middle of the night?
"Paula, you're still pretty guarded. Is it because of what I said last time?"
Last time—he meant that shocking remark he'd made to me. But this time, I could play it cool. I knew it wasn't him who'd said it, after all.
"It's a misunderstanding."
"I wasn't joking."
He said scary things with that beaming smile. I had no idea what he wanted by letting me misunderstand like that, but I couldn't exactly say I knew he was lying. What Vincent had told me might be a secret in itself. Was it something a mere maid like me should even know?
I kept my mouth shut, pretending I hadn't heard.
But as I showed no reaction, the smile slowly faded from Lucas's face. Soon, a serious gaze fixed on me.
"Did my brother tell you?"
"What do you mean?"
I tried brazenly playing dumb, but it must've been unconvincing. His expression grew even graver.
"I never imagined he'd tell you that too..."
No, I hadn't said a word.
Did I have something on my face? My inner thoughts, maybe? I patted my face unnecessarily. Just hair. I couldn't even see my own face—how was he reading me like that? He already seemed convinced Vincent had spilled something to me.
"I get it. It's nice to have someone reliable nearby."
"What are you talking about?"
"Honestly, it's surprising."
No, he was certain now.
I picked up the fallen rag. Better finish cleaning fast and escape. As I turned to do just that, Lucas suddenly reached out.
"Let me help."
"Pardon?"
Before I could respond, he snatched the rag. He even rolled up his sleeves. He meant helping with the cleaning. I panicked and tried to stop him.
"Please don't. I'll do it."
"I'll help. I don't have anything else to do."
"Even so, I can't have a guest doing chores. I'll get scolded."
"Just say I took it by force."
With that, Lucas started wiping a nearby ornament. I quickly checked the door—thankfully closed. I scanned around pointlessly, then tried dissuading him again. But he just smiled, said it was fine, and kept at it.
I had no clue what had gotten into him.
In the end, Lucas handled the wiping right up to the finish, leaving me with a heavy burden of obligation. And his overbearing helpfulness didn't stop there. Every time I went to clean, he'd insist on assisting. If I firmly refused, my back would prickle. When I turned, he'd whip his head away, pretending nothing.
He acted like he was dying to help me. I appreciated the kindness, but without knowing why, it just felt burdensome.
It was the same when attending to Vincent.
Aside from early mornings, he was mostly in Vincent's room. Whether he was visiting for fun or some other reason, he was always there when I came to serve. I wondered what he was doing, but no—he was just watching us.
Sometimes he even joined meals. Not that the two of them talked much. They just sat together. And I was stuck in the middle, watching their cues.
But when it was just the two of them, it was different. Lucas was always smiling around me, but peeking through a cracked door sometimes, I'd see them both with serious expressions. I couldn't tell about Vincent, but Lucas definitely was. Unlike with me, he dropped the smiles and grew solemn. Their voices were hushed and heavy.
When he wasn't in Vincent's room, he'd wander the mansion. Strolling corridors, walking the grounds, or emerging from the study with a book. If he ran into me by chance, he'd approach with the warmth of reuniting after ages.
One thing was clear, at least. He really had nothing to do.
Lucas's idle presence was starting to feel familiar when, after a meal, Vincent suddenly said,
"Shall we take a stroll?"
What brought this on? But there was no reason to refuse.
"Sure!"
"Get ready, then."
We decided to make it a tea time too, since it had been a while. I packed the teapot, cups, snacks, and a book to read.
But one extra person tagged along.
"Sounds fun."
Lucas stood beaming beside Vincent. I glanced at Vincent—he had no issue with Lucas joining.
In the end, the three of us walked side by side. Our options were limited to the garden behind the annex or the woods. I supported Vincent by the hand, with Lucas walking right beside me. Suddenly, I had the honor of being sandwiched between two grown men.
We settled on tea time first. Lucas kept gawking around all the way to the garden, while Vincent stared straight ahead. I supported Vincent while sneaking glances at Lucas. A strange tension hung in the air. Probably just me feeling it, though.
Then my eyes met Lucas's exactly.
"Why are you staring like that?"
"No, I'm not."
I shook my head and fixed my gaze forward.
At the table spot, we sat side by side. I spread the clean tablecloth I'd brought, then set down the teapot and cups. But we were short one cup—I hadn't expected Lucas, so I'd only grabbed two.
No helping it. I placed one in front of Lucas and one before Vincent.
"I'm good."
Lucas pushed his cup back toward me. Still... I hesitated, but he insisted he didn't want any tea. Fine, then.
Today's dessert was the super-sweet cake drenched in sugar that Vincent loved. I sliced it neatly onto plates and handed Lucas's first. At least eat this.
But the reaction came from Vincent. He was already poised with his fork. As I set down his plate, he elegantly cut a piece and popped it in his mouth. His fork skills, once clumsy, were now smooth. After a few chews, he cut another.
Unlike Vincent, who never stopped eating, Lucas took one bite and grimaced.
"......Too sweet."
He looked like he was wondering how anyone could eat something this sugary. I cut a bite for myself. Sweeter than usual, sure, but edible. I dove in face-first. Vincent pretended to be leisurely while scarfing it down fast.
Lucas alternated glances between us.
"You both like it?"
"It's not inedible."
"Delicious."
The answers came quick. We didn't pause eating either. It was like Lucas, Vincent, and I were racing to finish first, zeroed in on our cakes.
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