Chapter 39
Chapter 39
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 39
Chapter Title: Manners Make the Man (1)
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It's been about a month since the incident where Ethan nearly got murdered...
What can I say... Lately, I've been enjoying the most comfortable days of my routine so far.
This was obviously thanks to Ethan's change in attitude.
The most noticeable change? He's gotten a bit more subdued, I suppose.
Whether it was because the memory of me flipping out and trying to kill him that day had seared pure terror into his brain, after that, Ethan stopped pulling his petty pranks on me or summoning me every hour.
'They say a whip works wonders on mad dogs... No way.'
Could that near-death experience actually have drilled some manners into that pig bastard?
Maybe I have a knack for child-rearing?
...I'd had thoughts like that for a fleeting moment, but it didn't really matter. Even if I did have talent for it, I had no intention of using it.
As I'd said a million times before, I couldn't care less how that bastard turned out.
I just wanted him to grow up quick and fuck off to the academy. As long as he stopped giving me shit, that was more than enough.
Ever since Hate-dan stopped calling for me at every turn, my workload had noticeably lightened.
Morning and evening bed-making, room cleaning, gathering laundry and handing it off to the laundry maids, then collecting it once dry and putting it away.
Everything else was basically free time.
'This is fucking paradise.'
Since regaining my past-life memories, the number of times I'd worked this leisurely could be counted on one hand.
Not during my days as a lowly junior maid when tasks were always piling up, and certainly not after becoming an exclusive maid, when I'd jolt awake from nightmares even in my sleep.
But now? It was different.
The only times I crossed paths with Hate-dan in a day were morning wake-up and the three mealtimes.
Of course, I still had to watch that pig bastard gorge himself like the filthy animal he was every single day, but whatever.
Compared to his history of sexual harassment—and the very real chance I'd have to kill him for it—petty crap like that was water under the bridge by now.
-Slurp!
"Junior maid, junior maid..."
...To be honest, it was still hard to stomach.
My tolerance for disgust had just gone up, making it relatively bearable. Objectively speaking, Hate-dan's beastly table manners hadn't improved one bit.
Not that it was surprising. He'd stopped bitching at me, but nothing else about his behavior in the mansion had changed.
He still ignored the head maid's etiquette lessons, just like always.
For a noble house of this size, private tutors on a rotating schedule were standard. Naturally, I'd never once seen a single tutor visit to teach Ethan.
And he wasn't getting swordsmanship lessons from his father, Duke Harold, either.
He'd just stopped taking his shit out on Lilith. Otherwise, Hate-dan was still Hate-dan.
Oh, and for reference: Why was Ethan, the noble young master of the Blackwood ducal family, learning swordsmanship instead of magic? Because the family's bloodline magic specialized in enhancing physical abilities.
As I'd mentioned before, swordsmanship in this world operated on a whole different level from my original one.
It was swordsmanship in name only; at its pinnacle, it rivaled magic in power.
Slicing a hill flat, cleaving a massive glacier in two, or splitting the earth itself—its potential was limitless.
Of course, other weapons had their own absurd power scaling, but with swords as the protagonist's main weapon, it was inevitable that swordsmanship got all the doping.
And the Blackwood family specialized in magic that pushed physical abilities to the extreme, so they were naturally better suited to wielding weapons than elemental spells.
To properly harness that bloodline magic, it was customary to train in swordsmanship from a young age, like it or not.
'Right now, that tradition's been broken because of that shithead Hate-dan and his doting fool of a father, Harold.'
Probably a setup to make Hate-dan the early-game villain in the game.
Having the protagonist slice up a high-status but skill-less noble right at the start really pumps up the power fantasy.
If Hate-dan had properly trained under Harold's swordsmanship tutelage and mastered the family magic, a fresh academy enrollee like the protagonist wouldn't stand a chance.
This was a world where reaching Sword Master level in 'swordsmanship' alone let you flatten a hill.
Now imagine combining that with 'body enhancement magic'?
There was a reason the Blackwood family held a ducal seat in the empire.
Just look at Harold, one of the empire's three Sword Masters—his treatment was on another level from other nobles.
Looking back now, it was practically a miracle that Aeria and Alicia survived that day.
Harold must have held back as much as possible since they were civilians; if he'd gone all out, their guts would've burst from the first punch.
Of course, Luminor Academy wasn't a gory game, so it probably didn't show that kind of realism.
The fact that he only broke a few bones and caved in their faces meant Harold had reined in his rage as best he could.
In any case, for Hate-dan to inherit the Blackwood name, he'd need to master swordsmanship and body enhancement magic.
And above all, he'd have to shed some of that massive flab through exercise or whatever.
Judging by the pig bastard chowing down in front of me right now, that future seemed unlikely.
-Chomp!
"Junior maid, junior maid."
"......"
This was the first time in my life I'd seen someone grab a slab of steak with their bare hands and tear into it with their teeth.
He wasn't saving the fork and knife for snorting coke later or anything.
As I watched the pig bastard's eating habits with rapt disgust, his gaze suddenly shifted to me standing beside him.
Our eyes met quietly as I fulfilled my duty as his exclusive maid.
"Is there something you need, Young Master?"
"......"
I waited, thinking he might ask for water or something, but Ethan just stared at me in silence.
Then he started ominously alternating glances between the steak chunk in his hand and my face.
"...Young Master Ethan?"
"......"
"If there's anything you need, please just tell m—"
"...Do maids... like meat?"
"......Pardon?"
What the hell kind of random bullshit was this?
"Meat. You know, meat. Do maids like it too?"
"...I don't dislike it."
Who in this world hated meat to begin with?
This wasn't the 21st century; vegans didn't exist in a medieval fantasy setting.
I'd only given the most obvious answer to his stupid question, but for some reason, Ethan grinned with a creepy, pleased smile.
And that bad feeling soon became reality.
-Stab!
"Maid, here!"
"......Pardon?"
"Here, take this!"
"......"
Hate-dan stabbed a fork into the meat he'd been gnawing and slobbering on with his mouth and hands, then shoved it toward me.
At first, I thought his belly was full and the meal was over, so I responded accordingly.
"If you're finished eating, Young Master Ethan, you may simply leave the table as is. I'll handle the leftovers, or another maid will..."
"Not that!"
"Pardon?"
"This is for you to eat, maid!"
"......Pardon?"
...What the actual fuck?
Thinking I'd misheard, I met his eyes and asked again, but...
This little shit still had no clue what he was saying.
"Young Master Ethan. As a servant, I cannot dine with you. Please disregard me and focus on your meal."
"I said eat it! You said you like meat!"
"No, I cannot. A Blackwood servant stealing food from the young master's plate doesn't even make sens—"
"I'm giving it to you! Eat it!"
...Fuck.
I thought he'd been well-behaved for a while, but here he was pissing me off again.
I wanted to dump a barrage of curses right in his face, but unfortunately, there were other servants in the dining hall.
I couldn't cause a scene like the one in Ethan's room last time.
'Fuck, how do I handle this?'
Obviously, accepting and eating what he was offering right now would create a ton of problems.
For starters, shoveling food into my mouth during the employer's mealtime meant neglecting my duties.
Not only starting to eat before the master finished, but swiping his food? I'd be the worst maid imaginable.
Of course, refusing could be seen as disobeying orders, so technically eating it might leave fewer repercussions...
...Honestly, it just turned my stomach.
'How the hell am I supposed to eat that with pig bastard's fingerprints and spit all over it?'
I had to refuse somehow, or I'd catch some plague the second it touched my tongue.
It wasn't about some indirect kiss bullshit; I genuinely felt like I'd get sick from slurping up his slobber.
But I couldn't go around choking him and spewing profanities every time this pig pulled crap like this...
'...Wait a sec.'
If that incident made him even a little more perceptive...
Couldn't I talk my way out of this one too?
No way was I mustering the courage to eat that tooth-marked steak shoved in my face. So I quietly called out to Hate-dan.
To try that same disciplinary method from before—one that just might work again.
"...Young Master Ethan."
"Eat it! You said you like it!"
"Could I borrow your ear for a moment?"
"Huh?"
He sat there blankly, tilting his head to offer his ear.
I leaned in close to his ear, whispering just loud enough for him alone to hear.
"...I said I'm not fucking eating it, you little shit."
"......Huh?"
"Who the hell shoves a chunk of meat slathered in their spit and hand grime into someone else's mouth? Where the fuck did you learn those animal table manners?"
"......!"
"I'm begging you, just eat your own damn food. And for fuck's sake, stop gnawing it like a savage, smearing it with your hands, and slurping so loud. It's making me want to puke just watching. If you can't grasp basic etiquette, go take lessons from the head maid or something."
"......"
He flinched in shock at my words, then looked up at me with uneasy eyes.
I kept a straight face, as if nothing had happened, and continued the conversation.
"Shall we resume your meal now, Young Master Ethan?"
"......"
He nodded quietly, then meekly buried his face back in his food, shoveling the rest into his mouth.
His table manners were still appetite-ruining, but whatever.
As long as that filthy meat chunk stayed out of my mouth, I didn't give a damn.
...Can't let my guard down for even a second with that fucking bastard.