Chapter 95

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Translator: Harry Potta

Chapter: 95

Chapter Title: That Still Strange Guest (9)

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As I headed to the back of the mansion, I spotted the laundry hanging on the clothesline. The laundry maids had set down their baskets by the poles and were starting to take the clothes down.

Once they finished gathering them, the laundry maids expressed their reluctance again, but since it wasn't a difficult task, I pretended not to notice and helped out. It would have been much smoother without the man beside me.

I let out a sigh at the presence that stuck to me with every step. The laundry maids, who had initially tried to stop my actions, were now sneaking away while glancing at Ethan.

"Didn't you say you didn't want to leave your room?"

"You told me to do something other than sleep."

"That didn't mean for you to chase me around."

"It's fun just watching."

I turned a cold gaze on Ethan, who was standing right next to me.

"Why on earth are you doing this?"

"Because I want to get closer to Paula?"

I took a quick step back.

"That kind of joke isn't funny."

"Oops, it's not a joke."

"Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Nope."

His shameless reply left me speechless. Didn't he say he was busy last time? Or had I misheard? He just stared at me blankly, looking like he truly had nothing to do.

I looked at him as if he were the most pathetic person in the world, then shook my head. Undeterred by my reaction, Ethan kept watching me. Midway through, he even asked, "Need any help?" and I freaked out, begging him not to touch anything.

After helping with the laundry and receiving the fresh batch, we headed back inside the mansion.

"What are you doing next?"

Ethan, following behind, asked, but I didn't answer. Still, the question persisted as I went to his room to tidy up what I'd brought, changed the water for drinking, swept and mopped the hallway in front of the room, and added fresh coal to the stove.

Moreover, he didn't just follow steadily—he'd trail me, then suddenly vanish, only to pop up out of nowhere and start chasing again. Thanks to that, I had to clutch my chest several times.

Having this tail-like presence was driving me insane.

I had a quick meal, and with some time left, I went to see Robert. From the moment Ethan had singled me out to attend him, I'd been handling both Robert's care and Ethan's.

Serving Robert was essentially assisting the nanny anyway, and since her duties had wrapped up, she'd been staying by his side without going out lately. That meant my time focused on Robert had decreased. Naturally, I stopped writing reports about him.

Still, whenever I had a moment, I'd stop by his room. Today, Robert was taking a late nap, so the nanny greeted me alone. She welcomed me warmly, but her eyes widened when she saw Ethan standing behind me.

'You two must get along really well?'

She asked outright, full of curiosity. It really was a strange sight. If we kept this up, we'd draw someone's scolding for sure.

In the end, I snapped.

"Just go for a walk!"

"Want company?"

He suggested it as if he'd been waiting. I was tempted for a second but shook my head.

"Servants can't just leave the mansion whenever they want."

"We can stay nearby."

"I don't want to cause any unnecessary fuss."

"Then keep busy with work. I'll just watch."

He looked ready to follow and spectate until I went to bed.

"What are you doing now?"

I was sick of hearing that question by now. After a moment's thought, I opened my mouth.

"I'm getting dessert for the person I serve."

"Robert?"

"......"

I didn't reply and headed for the back stairs. When Ethan tried to follow again, I insisted he'd ruin the surprise and begged him not to come, then went down to the kitchen. I asked the cook for dessert and prepared some tea to go with it.

Balancing a thick chocolate cake, cookies, teapot, and teacups on a silver tray, I climbed the stairs. I passed Ethan, who was eyeing the tray in my hands, and went up.

"Robert will love that."

"It's for you, Lord Ethan."

"......"

"Take this and stop following me?"

Ethan, silent for a moment, replied in a low voice.

"Am I a burden?"

"Yes."

"Bear with it."

"......"

No, seriously, this man.

"Go back to your room and sleep some more. Sleep as much as you want. I won't disturb you."

"Hmm. I'm not in the mood right now."

"How long are you going to chase me around?"

"Until I get bored?"

A deep sigh escaped me involuntarily. Talking to him was pointless. I hurried my steps, thinking I'd drop off the tray and escape. I wanted my freedom back, fast.

I quickly climbed the stairs and walked the hallway. The footsteps behind me sped up too.

"Mind if I join you?"

"I'm fine."

"Come on, eat together."

"I'll pass."

"Paula."

His unwelcome call rang out. No, I told him not to use my name! I stopped and whipped around toward Ethan.

At that moment, the door to the left of Ethan burst open, and two maids coming out collided with him.

With short screams, the two maids lost their balance and fell to the floor. Both were holding vases—one shattered against the ground, the other soaked the hem of Ethan's left trouser leg as it rolled away. The flowers from the vase scattered everywhere.

Luckily, about five steps away, I avoided spilling my tray.

"S-Sorry! We're so sorry!"

One maid spotted Ethan and prostrated herself in terror. She bowed her head repeatedly on the wet floor from the spilled water, chanting "Sorry!" over and over.

The other froze upon seeing him, then slowly followed suit. Her huddled body trembled.

"P-Please, f-forgive......"

"Pl-Please, have m-mercy."

It was no big deal. Just a minor accident, completely understandable. Yet the maids groveled as if they'd committed a grave offense against him, shaking in fear.

Why? Puzzled, I looked at them, then at Ethan. He was staring down at his wet trouser hem.

"Spare us!"

A desperate cry burst out. The other maid echoed it. "Spare us! Please don't take our lives! Please! Please!" It was almost a scream. I jumped in shock. But the one hearing it showed no surprise—just blank indifference.

Seeing his utterly humorless face, I understood why they were trembling. The man standing there wasn't the cheerful, playful guy anymore. He was Count Christopher of the cruel rumors, with his rigid expression, heavy aura, and impeccable attire. Even a small mistake against a noble who wouldn't hesitate to kill his own kin terrified them.

Ethan glanced down at the prostrated, shaking maids and stepped forward. A flower crushed under his foot, but he ignored it and approached me. I stared blankly as he drew near.

"Let's go."

He said just that and walked past me. Snapping to, I followed a couple of steps behind. Glancing back, I saw the maids watching us, their fear-stricken faces fixed on Ethan. It felt unfamiliar.

Realizing their sudden blunder had ended without incident, one maid started sobbing. The other hugged and comforted her, looking like survivors who'd escaped death.

I turned to look at Ethan. He'd heard the crying but showed no reaction. Didn't even glance back.

I scanned him up and down. His attire was still perfect. His hair, slicked back with pomade, had no strands out of place—except for the back lower nape, where it stuck out messily where he couldn't reach.

Seeing that, all the tension suddenly melted away. I'd thought he was so put-together, but what was that? The unexpected sloppiness nearly made me laugh. Had he been walking around like that? Anyone who saw would wonder what it was. He probably didn't even know.

If those maids had seen the back of his head, would they have been so scared? If they'd collected themselves and looked properly, might they have noticed his carelessness and realized he wasn't frightening? But overwhelming fear blinds you.

Come to think of it, every time we passed servants, they'd gasp at something behind me or freeze in place. Some bowed deeply, avoiding eye contact at all costs. Fear etched on every face.

'Ah, so that's it.'

I hadn't noticed. The sharp air around him, how everyone watched and feared Ethan.

Quick-witted as he was, he'd surely realized it. Maybe from the moment he arrived at the mansion. That's why he'd holed up in his room sleeping. He'd chosen me as his attendant because the other servants shunned him. I was the only one going in and out of his room.

His room must be the only place he could relax. The moment he stepped out, he became Count Christopher, bearing everyone's stares. He did nothing, yet people cowered preemptively.

Maybe sleeping soundly was his real idea of 'rest'.

Ethan walked the hallway in silence. No playful attitude like before, no initiating talk. His gait was stiff, his presence heavier. But I, the only one who'd spotted his flaw, glanced around and whispered softly.

"Lord Ethan, your hair is sticking out in the back."

My voice was quiet, but he must have heard. His leading steps faltered for an instant. A hand soon rose to fumble at his nape. Watching, I calmly added, "A bit more to the side."

His pace quickened ahead. Following, I swallowed bursts of laughter. It was my way of being considerate toward the embarrassed Ethan. But that consideration didn't last—the laughter finally broke free.