Less 'Difficult', More Plain Nasty
"Maid uniform, check."
I spoke in a crisp, adorable voice as I checked my reflection in the mirror. Staring back at me was one thoroughly cute maid. Parting my lips slightly revealed a sharp little pair of fangs, which looked undeniably charming. To be frank, they felt more like the playful teeth of a kitten than anything truly vampiric, but they still felt keen enough to sink into someone's jugular if needed.
"Dagger and thigh belt beneath the skirt, check."
I knew I wasn't stepping straight onto bodyguard duty today, but I had armed myself anyway. Fastened around my thigh under the hem of the maid skirt was a leather holster bearing a concealed dagger. The sensible maid shoes on my feet weren't ordinary footwear either, but custom gear concealing spring-loaded blades inside the soles. And tucked into the deep apron pockets was a modest assortment of paralyzing needles and mild toxins.
This would serve as my standard loadout once we arrived at the Academy. Operating as both a personal maid and a covert bodyguard meant full combat gear was out of the question; lightweight, unobtrusive armaments were the only practical choice. I had cross-trained with various weapons under my seniors at the Assassins' Guild Headquarters, but light blades like daggers suited me best anyway.
With my weapons secured and my maid attire immaculately straightened, the moment had finally come to meet Cecilia. This would be our first proper face-to-face encounter since my appointment as the Third Imperial Princess's personal maid.
"...Whew."
Suppressing my nervousness, I turned the knob and slipped out into the corridor, heading for Cecilia's private quarters on the highest floor of the Golden Palace. Servants cast curious glances my way as I navigated the lavishly decorated lobbies and sweeping hallways, but none dared stop me. Before long, I arrived before a pair of double doors far grander and more ornate than any other on the estate.
How on earth could someone living in a magnificent palace like this, in quarters this luxurious, possess such a rotten personality?
By all accounts, the Emperor seemed to cherish his third daughter quite deeply. Given that she took after her late mother and suffered from frail health, wasn't he the doting type who showered her with extra care?
"May I come in?" I called out, knocking gently on the carved woodwork.
"Enter," came a cool, feminine voice from within.
Taking a deep breath, I turned the latch and stepped inside. The moment the heavy door swung open, the sharp, clinical tang of antiseptic stung my nose, smelling almost like a hospital ward.
"It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness. Beginning today and continuing through your term at the Academy, my name is Serena, and I will be serving as your personal attendant."
Setting aside any odd impressions of the room, I shut the door behind me and immediately bowed low. I didn't even steal a glance at her face first, dipping my waist into a deep, textbook curtsy.
"Raise your head."
The voice was far clearer than before—poised and refined, yet carrying an underlying aristocratic weight. As I straightened my back, Cecilia's appearance fully registered for the first time.
Seeing her in living, breathing three dimensions was a shock far greater than looking at a static character illustration, and her sheer beauty stunned me all over again. Cascades of pale, radiant blonde hair framed her features, paired with heavy-lidded, weary eyes of unfocused sky-blue. In stark contrast to my own flat, childlike frame, she possessed an extraordinarily voluptuous bust and flare of hips tapering into a shockingly slender waist.
It was an overwhelming silhouette. Try as I might to maintain professional modesty, my eyes couldn't help but be drawn to her.
"Hmm..."
"...Your Highness?"
"A vampire, are you?"
"Ah, yes. A half-vampire, to be precise. Does that pose a problem?"
I answered cautiously, unsettled by the piercing glare she had leveled at me the moment I lifted my head. Humans and half-vampires weren't viewed identically, after all. Depending on the setting, this world could harbor rampant xenophobia against demi-humans, or it might be completely harmonious. Since I had no clear idea which way the Aria Empire leaned, I had to tread carefully. My guildmates back at headquarters had treated me warmly enough, but the outside world was often a different beast entirely.
More to the point, how had she clocked my bloodline with a single glance?
"No," Cecilia murmured, waving a dismissive hand. "It's merely my first time seeing a demi-human in person. Crimson eyes are certainly a novelty."
"I see..."
I had simply picked the eye color during character creation, but to the people of this world, it seemed I looked like the textbook stereotype of a bloodsucker.
"Serena, was it?"
"Yes, Your Highness."
"Hmph... And you're supposed to attend to my daily needs at the Academy?"
"Uh... yes. I will be accompanying you to the Imperial Academy as your personal maid."
"With that tiny stature and those stick-thin arms?" Cecilia let out a breath that was half-scoff, half-sigh. "Far from waiting on me, it looks as though you'll be the one in dire need of a caretaker."
"......"
We just met five seconds ago. What is with this unprovoked attitude?
I was utterly dumbfounded by the way she squinted at me with pure condescension. It was true that I was remarkably short and my limbs didn't look built for heavy lifting, but her tone was needlessly combative. 'Bitingly sarcastic' didn't even begin to cover it. Worse, her speech hovered awkwardly between polite honorifics and imperious condescension, making the verbal jabs sound even more infuriating.
"I assure you, it will not be an issue," I replied flatly.
Naturally, that was the only safe response I could give. She was an imperial princess, after all. A newly hired commoner maid couldn't exactly talk back.
"We shall see," Cecilia murmured, resting her chin on an upturned palm. "If you prove useless, I can simply have you replaced with another maid."
"Haha..."
"So, you expect to share a dormitory suite with me at the Academy?"
"Yes, Your Highness. I will do everything within my power to ensure your comfort."
My first impression of the Third Princess matched the intelligence reports to a tee: she had an awful temperament. No, describing her as merely 'difficult' didn't do it justice. She was just plain nasty. Even accounting for the vast gulf in our social status, I hadn't expected her to be this openly dismissive right out of the gate. Given the lofty title of imperial princess, I had assumed there would be at least a veneer of regal decorum.
"Fetch me a cup of coffee."
"Right away."
For now, I opted for quiet obedience. Fortunately, a sideboard in the corner of the room was stocked with tea sets, beans, and drinkware. While far from a modern espresso machine, it housed a specialized magic-engineering device designed to boil water, steam milk, and extract concentrated coffee using mana circuits. Having practiced extensively with similar appliances during my servant training—and drawing on my past life's experience as an office worker who practically ran on caffeine—brewing decent coffee was second nature to me. In fact, the head instructors at the guild had praised my barista work quite lavishly.
I extracted a rich shot of espresso, carefully frothed the prepared milk, and poured it smoothly into the porcelain cup.
"You didn't draw anything on top," Cecilia noted, observing the surface.
"I had a feeling Your Highness would prefer it this way. I believed it wiser to present a clean, unadorned cup rather than risk offending your sight with clumsy foam art."
"......"
"How is it?"
I presented her with an understated, perfectly balanced cappuccino, devoid of unnecessary flourishes. It was simply velvety milk foam layered cleanly over dark brew. According to the intelligence dossiers, however, this exact simplicity was Cecilia's private preference.
Unable to find a flaw to criticize, the prickly princess took a quiet sip, blowing softly against the steam. Just as I anticipated, she didn't offer a single snide remark about the taste.
"Acceptable," she said after a moment, setting the saucer down on the side table with a faint clink. "However, I have no desire to drink any more of it right now. Take it away and dump it."
"Uh... yes, Your Highness."
Yep, she really is awful.
Did it frustrate her that I had performed far better than she expected? Ordering me to throw away a perfectly good cup of coffee after barely two sips was pure spite. I had put genuine effort into pulling that shot, and having it discarded so carelessly was undeniably irritating.
"...Wait. Hand it back."
"Ah. Yes, ma'am."
She had literally just handed the cup back to me, only to snatch it right out of my hands again. I tilted my head ever so slightly, bewildered by the whiplash. What on earth was going on in that head of hers?
Taking a closer look at her weary countenance, the answer seemed fairly obvious. She was running on sheer exhaustion, using the caffeine as a desperate crutch to stay conscious. Under ordinary circumstances, someone looking that drained ought to be fast asleep in bed, not nursing cups of bitter brew.
"Pardon me, Your Highness... May I speak candidly for a moment?"
I decided to take a gamble. We were going to be living together under the same roof soon enough, and seeing her look so terribly worn out tugged at my conscience. Prickly as she was, I placed some modest faith in my current appearance—the face of 'Serena.' Even the scariest, most battle-hardened senior assassins back at headquarters turned into total softies whenever I looked up at them. Of course, Cecilia seemed so overwhelmingly bitter that the cuteness might not work at all, but it was worth a shot.
"Out of nowhere?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.
"Well... if you are feeling fatigued, I believe taking a short afternoon nap would serve your health far better than drinking more coffee..."
"......"
"I apologize if I am overstepping my bounds. It is just that excessive caffeine can be quite harsh on the body, especially when one is already worn down."
I laid it out plainly. Her hollow, tired gaze had been bothering me since the moment I stepped into the room. It had been noticeable in the game's official illustrations, but seeing it in the flesh made it impossible not to worry at least a little.
"I can manage my own schedule," Cecilia replied coldly. "Do not offer unsolicited advice."
"Understood."
"Furthermore, can you even cook? You will be responsible for preparing meals once we are at the Academy."
"I can cook, Your Highness. While lavish banquet courses are beyond me, I am proficient with most pasta dishes and can prepare a standard breakfast spread without trouble. Whether it suits your discerning palate remains to be seen, of course."
"Hmph... From the look of you, you seem far better suited to having someone spoon-feed your meals rather than cooking them yourself."
"......"
Well, she isn't entirely wrong on that front. Even to my own eyes, this tiny body didn't look like it belonged in front of a roaring stove. I looked far more likely to drop a heavy iron skillet or spill a boiling pot of noodles all over the floor.
"Just how old are you, anyway?" Cecilia continued, scanning me from head to toe with renewed suspicion. "Looking at your height, you barely seem fifteen. Are you truly fit to accompany me to the Academy?"
"I am an adult, Your Highness."
"...What?"
"Uh... did no one inform you?"
Did she really not know? Not even the basics?
Even if my background with the Assassins' Guild was classified, I had assumed she would have at least been briefed on a summary profile of the maid assigned to her. Cecilia stared at me in absolute, undisguised shock. Had she genuinely thought I was a middle-schooler this entire time?
"...Do not tell such absurd lies," she snapped, her voice tightening. "Do you wish to be dismissed on your first day?"
"Uh, I am telling the truth..."
"An adult? You?"
"Yes, really..."
Her stubborn refusal to believe me was starting to feel downright unfair. I was a full-grown adult! I was nineteen years old, the exact same age as Cecilia herself, as verified in plain black and white on my status window. I was a legal adult who got periods and was legally allowed to drink alcohol, even if my body remained completely hairless down there. Though, to be fair, having lived as a modern man for over twenty years and completed military service, dealing with menstrual cycles was a thoroughly unpleasant experience every single month.
"...Liar."
"...I swear it's the truth, Your Highness."
"A blatant lie."
"I'm not lying..."
Seriously, how can someone be this stubborn?
No matter how many times I insisted, she flatly refused to accept reality, leaving me completely exasperated. She was undeniably gorgeous, but her personality was the absolute antithesis of her looks. Exactly as the Guild Master had warned me, she was difficult to the extreme.