Chapter 93

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 93

Chapter Title: That Still Strange Guest (7)

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I turned my head to check on Ethan. He was facing Vincent with a faint smile, but that smile looked somehow bitter.

"Do whatever you want. I won't force you."

"……."

"If you don't want to believe it, then don't."

As always, Ethan lightly brushed off Vincent's words like a casual joke. Vincent fell silent. The tightly pressed corners of his mouth seemed to express his dissatisfaction.

A brief silence followed. It was only a short time, but the atmosphere felt so heavy that it dragged on endlessly.

I glanced back and forth between the two of them. Vincent's face suggested he had a lot to say, yet he couldn't bring himself to speak, while Ethan met his gaze without flinching but still seemed somehow uncomfortable. What was this? What was going on...? I sensed a strange tension from the two men who, on the surface, appeared no different than usual.

Soon, a sigh echoed through the air. Vincent furrowed his brow and pressed it with his hand.

"Fine. You have no reason to lie. I misunderstood."

His voice, sounding somehow weary, pierced my ears.

With their business apparently concluded, Vincent turned to leave. I hurriedly grabbed him.

"Ah, wait!"

In my haste, I ended up clutching his wrist. Vincent stopped abruptly. I yanked my hand back and took a step away.

Vincent's gaze fell on me again. I instinctively bowed deeply at the waist.

"What is it?"

"I, uh, I was just wondering if you're feeling better from last time."

Because he'd ignored me, I hadn't been able to properly ask about that day. I wondered if the medicine had worked well, if he'd been in bad shape then but was okay now.

Or if he'd been injured anywhere. I'd cut my hand, so I worried he might have been hurt too. He looked fine on the outside, but what if he'd been sliced somewhere less visible.

Feeling like I wouldn't get another chance if not now, I mustered my courage to speak. But no reply came. Was he trying to figure out which "last time" I meant? I was about to clarify when...

"I'm fine."

A light response followed.

Footsteps soon receded into the distance. I straightened up and watched Vincent's retreating back. Turning to Ethan again, I saw the smile had vanished from his face, lost in thought. I kept glancing between the two of them.

"Vincent."

Suddenly, Ethan called out to Vincent again. I'd thought he wouldn't turn, but Vincent promptly halted and twisted his upper body slightly.

His face toward us was impassive, but I could read the complex emotions hidden within.

"It's late, but it was nice seeing you after so long."

"……."

A gentle voice hung in the air. Yet Vincent showed no particular reaction. After staring indifferently for a moment, he turned away again. The heavy thud of his footsteps as he departed sounded no different from before. Ethan, as if not expecting a reply, turned to me with a playful grin.

"Looks like I helped you out again."

"Yes. Thank you for your help."

I offered polite thanks with my words, but my mind replayed the exchange between Ethan and Vincent just moments ago.

If it wasn't my imagination, something had happened between them. The tension I'd sensed in the past lingered between them now. No, it felt even thicker this time.

Still, I didn't pry. I wanted to ask, but Ethan's playful demeanor seemed to warn me off.

"The mood looked tense earlier, but now it doesn't seem so bad? Did something happen between you two?"

"Ah, a few nights ago, I ran into the Master in the hallway, and there was a bit of an issue then."

I explained vaguely, figuring details would only complicate things.

"At night, huh... Yeah, that could happen."

I'd expected Ethan to press for details, but he simply nodded agreeably.

"The colored ink Vincent mentioned—is that the stuff Lucas used for letters? I've seen it before. The white liquid with color added, right?"

Was that it? The ink I'd received already had color in it.

"Where'd you get it?"

"A colleague I know got it for me. Borrowed it through some acquaintance of an acquaintance."

"Hm. Okay."

Ethan said it casually. I wondered briefly but figured it might've already had the color mixed in when he got it. More importantly, there was another issue.

"But why'd you say that? That I was a servant in your family."

"If you're going to deceive someone, better to do it thoroughly."

"Pardon?"

"Life needs its trials and tribulations."

What nonsense was this?

"I've been thinking about what you said last time, Paula. You hoped Vincent wouldn't recognize you, right? I'll go along with your wish. Let's deceive him thoroughly and perfectly."

"What are you planning?"

"I'm just trying to help make things go the way you want."

"......Why?"

"Can't I help?"

"It doesn't seem like good intentions. You said it shouldn't be that way before. Your words don't match up."

"That's because you and I are in a cooperative relationship where we help each other. Remember that proposal?"

I let out a soft chuckle at that. Of course I remembered. It was a proposal born from the crisis of some strange guest barging in—we'd figured it'd be best to make him an ally for now. I hadn't expected him to accept. And he hadn't changed. I'd thought maybe he had, but no, he was still a headache. If he was genuinely helping, I'd be grateful, but...

A giggle slipped out unbidden. Ethan grinned even wider in response.

"Curious, aren't you?"

"About what?"

"Which one is true."

In that instant, a chill washed over me like I'd been doused in cold water. My upturned lips drooped. My relaxed mind sharpened. The moment I realized what lurked in those amused eyes, I knew I'd fallen into my own trap.

It had already begun.

The bet between him and me.

Damn it!

As I opened the door and entered, Alicia rushed at me. She grabbed my arm, yanked me over, and forced me onto the bed. I let out a sigh at her expected reaction.

"What's with you?"

"How do you know that guy?"

"Who?"

"Count Christopher? That guy! I heard he's friends with the Master."

She'd overheard that much, huh. How was I supposed to explain this? Telling her everything would be a hassle, but staying silent would just invite endless nagging until I answered.

"Eh, we just happened to meet."

"How? How exactly do you know him? Wait, is that mansion you worked at before his? Is he the master you served? ...No, right? You said you got on their bad side and ran away from where you worked."

"Why bring that up out of nowhere?"

"Why? When else would you have a chance to connect with a nobleman?"

It was a sharp point. True, if I'd ever crossed paths with nobility, it'd only have been then. Even Alicia must have sensed the familiarity in how he treated me.

"Tell me! Yes or no?!"

Alicia pressed for an answer. I hesitated a moment before speaking.

"No."

"No?"

"Yeah. It wasn't there."

I'd almost lied and said yes, but decided against it to avoid putting Ethan in a tough spot. Seeing her fierce expression, I figured lying might cause more trouble anyway. I skipped the details, though.

But Alicia's face, upon hearing my answer, oddly looked relieved. Why react like that? Puzzled, I frowned at her. Ignoring my reaction, she turned away and muttered softly.

"Of course."

"Of course what?"

"Nothing. Don't worry about it!"

She'd asked first, and now she was annoyed for no reason.

"I thought you wanted to get out of here quick, but apparently not? You jumped at extending your stay."

"It's not like that. Circumstances."

"Hmph! Sure it isn't. You flirt."

Why was I the flirt here?

"Then how do you know him?"

"Dunno."

"What? Hey!"

I didn't want to talk to Alicia anymore. I flopped onto the bed and pulled the sheet over my head. She stomped around spewing harsh words, but I shut my ears and eyes. Ignoring her was the best approach in times like these.

In the end, once the original temporary hiring period ended, most of the people who'd come here with me left the mansion. A few, including me and Alicia whose periods had been extended, remained.

They'd arrived all at once, and now they left in a rush. The emptied mansion filled with new faces. Seeing people with striking appearances that stood out even from afar reminded me of my first days here. It wasn't that long ago, yet it felt distant now. Come to think of it, why did they hire servants this way? The reason remained a mystery.

I turned away from the excited faces anticipating new experiences in their upcoming quarters. With each step, my footsteps grew heavier, thudding with dissatisfaction.

I stopped before the first door at the top of the stairs and let out a sigh.

I prayed desperately that Ethan wouldn't cause any trouble. With my temporary stint unwillingly extended, all I wanted was to live quietly.

Yet anxiety flooded me that my wish wouldn't come true, caught in the trap Ethan had laid. I'd ended up as his dutiful attendant.

Standing before the door that felt somehow heavy, I took a deep breath. I knocked lightly, but no answer came. I knocked again, still nothing. So I opened the door and went in—the room was deathly quiet.

I glanced around, set the meal I'd brought on the table, then flung open the curtains that blocked out every ray of sunlight. As I turned, a round lump on the bed squirmed away from the pouring light. It was well past morning, but Ethan was still sprawled in bed. He'd skipped breakfast too.

"Get up. It's already lunchtime."

He'd said he'd stay a few days, but he was lazier than anyone.

Since declaring he'd stay at the mansion, Ethan had slept the days away. Like someone deprived of sleep for days, he barely ate and just slept, slept, and slept more. I'd thought he was here for a vacation, but from the looks of it, he'd come to catch up on a long-overdue winter hibernation.

I tugged the sheet, but he grabbed it to resist.

"Get up."

"Mm...... Just a bit longer......"

"How much longer?"

"Five minutes—no, ten?"

"How about using that time to wash up, change, and eat? Sounds productive."

"I'll make productive use of it twenty minutes from now."

The requested time increased.

"Just get up now."

"I'm on vacation, so I wanna sleep more."

"Go for a walk instead."

"Eh......"

He was acting spoiled, unlike himself. He rolled away, clutching the sheet determinedly. I snorted and yanked it hard. The round shape rolled slightly, revealing tousled brown hair. His face remained buried in the sheet.