The Twin Maids
Morning.
A knock dragged me out of sleep.
Fuck. Perfect.
"Counselor, are you awake?"
A maid's voice came from outside the bedroom. An unfamiliar voice. Ah, right — new maids were due to start today.
"Come in."
The door opened. Two of them came in.
And for a moment, I doubted my own eyes.
The same face. The same height. The same build.
Only the hair was different.
On the left, Mia — waist-length silver hair swept up into a high ponytail. In their shared crimson eyes, mischief and vitality surfaced first; even standing still, she overflowed with energy like the morning sun.
On the right, Nia — black hair falling to her waist. The same crimson eyes, but deeper, as though she kept their light banked inside. Her gaze was low, yet it swept the room in order: the exits, my hands, the documents on the desk.
Twins.
The silver-haired one spoke first.
"I'm Mia! Starting today, I'll be serving you, Counselor!"
Her voice was bright — morning-sunlight bright. Energy came pouring off her beaming greeting.
"I'm... Nia."
The black-haired one said it in a small voice, gaze still pinned to the floor.
"Look up."
At my words, Nia slowly raised her head. The instant her crimson eyes met mine, they fell again. Faster than a blink.
Extreme shyness. Or anxiety.
Mia and Nia. Twins, with personalities at opposite poles.
"You're twenty?"
"Yes! We turned twenty this spring!"
Mia answered — for Nia, too.
"I heard you came out of an orphanage."
"That's right! Lumina Orphanage, east of the capital. We grew up there."
A shadow crossed Mia's voice. Darkness running beneath the brightness. Nobody raised in an orphanage was bright for no reason.
"And I hear the Queen Consort trained you personally."
"Yes! Three years ago, when Her Highness visited the orphanage, she took us back with her. We've been in maid training at the palace ever since."
Three years. Maids in training since the two were seventeen. A considerable investment.
"What kind of training?"
"Basic maid duties, etiquette, letters, weapons handling, information gathering..."
Weapons handling? Information gathering?
She wasn't raising maids. She was raising agents.
Elena.
The true nature of the 'maids' that woman had sent me was coming into sharper focus.
"Same training for you, Nia?"
"Yes..."
Nia answered quietly. Her head was still slightly bowed, but her eyes were on me, gazing up from below. The crimson visible between strands of black hair was strangely moist.
Nia wasn't merely shy.
She was observing.
To everyone else, the introverted little sister. In truth, the type who took the measure of her surroundings more sharply than Mia ever would.
An interesting combination.
Mia charging straight out front, Nia watching from behind.
I was starting to grasp why Elena had sent these two.
The maids prepared breakfast.
Mia bustled about setting out bread and jam, fruit, and tea. Nia assisted quietly from behind.
When I took my seat, Mia pulled out my chair for me.
"Make yourself comfortable!"
As she drew near, a scent reached me. Soap — not noble perfume, just the plain smell of being clean. Apparently orphanage-raised maids weren't issued perfume.
Soap instead of perfume. Twenty years old and fully grown, Mia lit up the whole room with that high silver ponytail and her restless motion. I made myself focus less on her looks and more on how the two of them were settling in.
"Nia, you sit down too."
"I-I'll stand..."
"Sit."
"..."
Nia took a chair with great care — at the far end of the table, as far from me as she could manage.
"Meals get eaten together here."
"But a maid at the same table as her master..."
"In my rooms, my rules."
Mia's eyes sparkled as she plopped down beside her sister.
"The Counselor's a good man, Nia!"
"Sis..."
"May I call you Mia?"
"Of course! It's Mia — Mia!"
"And you, Nia?"
"...N-Nia... please call me Nia."
A small voice. But no refusal.
I stole a quiet read of both their emotions with [Mind Interference].
In Mia, curiosity and expectation led, with hardly a trace of wariness — a pinch of fondness already mixed in. Fast. The lively type who adapts to new ground in a hurry.
Nia's wall was the thickest. But crouched beneath it were the same curiosity and expectation. Reserved on the surface, deeply interested underneath.
Neither of them carried a bad first impression of me.
Only belatedly did it snag on me that I'd read the hearts of two people I'd just met, without their permission.
So why had Elena sent these two?
A simple assignment of maids?
Or yet another 'tool'?
...Thinking could wait.
For now, I'd close the distance. Naturally.
Why did every plan I prefaced with that word turn rotten on me later?
Day one.
I walked them through the work: cleaning the rooms, preparing meals, organizing documents, attending me on outings.
Mia took notes for her life. Nia wrote nothing down, but she struck me as the type who remembered after a single hearing.
"Any questions?"
"Me!"
Mia's hand shot straight up. This wasn't a schoolroom.
"Where are you from, Counselor? You don't seem capital-born."
"A long way off."
"How far?"
"Far enough you wouldn't know it."
"Ohh, now I really want to know!"
"Curiosity's good for you. But where's the fun in telling you everything?"
Mia puffed out her cheeks. Lively didn't cover it — the girl was laying the charm on thick. Twenty, all right.
Nia, off to one side, pretended to sort documents with her ears pricked. Listening, watching, analyzing from where she couldn't be seen.
"Nia."
"Yes, yes!"
So startled at being called that she dropped the papers. Her face flamed as she scrambled to gather them up.
"The papers can wait. Come here."
"..."
Nia edged closer, tiny step by tiny step, all but hiding behind Mia.
"Nothing you're curious about?"
"..."
Her head shook side to side.
"Liar."
"...!"
The crimson eyes went wide.
"I can see you're full of questions."
"H-how..."
"Reading people's hearts happens to be my job."
Nia's eyes grew wider still. And then, remarkably, a glint of interest kindled in them.
"You... read hearts?"
Her first question, offered up of her own accord.
"Roughly."
"Even mine, right now...?"
"You're brimming with questions but too scared to ask them. Right?"
"..."
Nia lowered her head. But even lowered, it nodded.
That it was right.
"Don't be scared of me. I'm not a frightening man."
A lie. I was a terrifying piece of work. It was only that by the time a person worked that out, it was already too late for them.
"..."
"Take all the time you need. Get comfortable, little by little."
Nia lifted her head a fraction. The crimson peeking through black hair was damp.
"...Thank you."
Beside her, Mia was watching me with an expression of pure wonder, eyes sparkling.
"You really are a good man, Counselor..."
"Don't lay it on thick."
"I'm not! At the orphanage, there was never an adult who talked to us like this!"
Her voice wavered for just a beat. The shadow beneath the brightness, flashing past.
The orphanage.
I could make a fair guess at the kind of place these two had grown up in.
The orphanages of this world were never going to be kinder than the ones from my old life.
"Make yourselves at home here."
"Yes, Counselor!"
Mia beamed.
Nia didn't smile — but her expression loosened, just a little.
Barely.
But I saw it.
Playing the good adult, at this level, was a piece of cake. The problem was that the longer I kept up the act, the more some part of me genuinely wanted to be that man. And that was the most fucked-up part of all.
Day two.
Mia's rate of adjustment was startling.
From early morning she bustled about, tidying the room, preparing meals, sorting the paperwork. She erred often, and papered over every error with sheer energy.
"Counselor, where does this document go?"
"Right drawer."
"And this one?"
"That one's classified. Into the safe."
"And the safe's combination?"
"That I can't be telling the maids."
"Aww~"
She registered her complaint even as she smiled. A smile blended of natural vivacity and the survival craft learned in an orphanage.
Nia was the opposite.
She worked quietly, without leaving a trace. While Mia absorbed practically all of the commotion, Nia filled the gaps behind her with exact precision.
When Mia misfiled a document, Nia quietly set it right afterward.
When Mia spilled tea, Nia wiped it up without a sound.
The little sister veiling her big sister's mistakes.
So that had been their survival strategy all along: Mia drew the eyes out front, and Nia handled the cleanup behind.
"Nia."
"Yes?"
"Thanks for fixing the documents."
"...You saw that?"
"I see everything."
Nia's ears turned red.
"Please don't tell Mia... she'd be so embarrassed."
"I won't."
Nia gave the faintest smile. The first I'd seen from her.
The smile glimpsed through black hair was nothing like her sister's bright laughter — it was a smile like moonlight.
Day three.
Mia began displaying her affection in the open.
"Counselor!"
"What."
"The weather's lovely today — won't you take a walk?"
"I have work."
"Work can wait! Health comes first!"
"..."
"I'll come along!"
At some point her speech had drifted to the edge of casual address. Three days in, that was fast.
Her wariness had all but dissolved, and the affection had swollen to something I could see with the naked eye. The graph I read in the corner of her heart pointed straight up.
Mia's fondness had grown with no help from [Common Sense Alteration]. What she saw, though, was only the face I chose to show her. Even a natural feeling, with the information flowing entirely one way, doesn't make for a perfectly even relationship.
We took the walk. The royal palace gardens. Mia chattered away at my side the whole way.
The orphanage. Her training at the palace. How Her Highness was like a mother to them.
"What was hardest, back at the orphanage?"
"Not having enough to eat."
Mia said it brightly. A dark story in a bright voice.
"I managed, but Nia couldn't eat much. So I used to give her half my share."
"You did?"
"I'm the big sister."
Mia smiled.
"We're twins, but apparently I came out ten minutes first. So that makes me the big sister!"
A woman who'd become the elder by a ten-minute margin and grown up looking after her sister's share on top of her own.
Beneath all that brightness ran a bedrock of responsibility.
"Mia."
"Yes?"
"You don't have to worry about food here."
"I know!"
"And you don't have to set aside Nia's share, either."
Mia's steps stopped.
"...How did you know?"
"It's my job."
Mia went quiet for a moment. Her bright expression wavered, slightly.
"...Counselor."
"Yeah."
"Can you really read hearts?"
"Roughly."
"Then... mine too?"
"I'm trying not to."
A lie. I'd already read it. Trying not to came after that. Fucked up how the order never changed.
Mia looked up at me. Crimson eyes shining.
"It's fine if you read mine."
I had nothing at all to answer that with.
This woman.
Straight out in the open.
"Mia."
"Yes?"
"You're a bold one."
"Hee hee."
Laughing, she took my arm. Naturally. The easy physical closeness of a twenty-year-old.
She didn't let go. Didn't look like she intended to.
...So this woman was the type with no brakes.
The problem was, she wasn't the only one who couldn't pace herself. Because the one who knew all that and still didn't pull his arm free was me.
Day four.
I detected a shift in Nia.
While Mia was out of the room — off fetching the laundry — Nia was sorting papers in the study.
I was reading.
A quiet stretch.
Nia stopped partway through the papers.
"Counselor."
"Hmm?"
"...No, it's nothing."
She'd begun to speak and swallowed it back.
"Nia."
"Yes?"
"If there's something you want to ask, ask it."
"..."
A long silence.
And then,
"Counselor... why are you kind to us?"
A small voice. But the question rang clear.
"Because..."
"At the orphanage, the kind adults were mostly kind because they wanted something."
Cold observation.
My instinct had been right — this one wasn't shy. She was guarded.
And the observation was dead accurate, which made it all the more fucked up. I was the textbook specimen of an adult who is kind because he wants something.
"That's an honest question."
"..."
"So I'll answer honestly."
Nia raised her head and looked at me. Crimson eyes, through black hair.
"First — you're not wrong that I need to treat you well. You're the Queen Consort's people."
"..."
"Second — because I'm lonely too."
"...Lonely?"
"Yeah."
I meant it. In this world I had Elena and Marga, but those bonds were all threaded through with politics and duty. Not one of them was purely easy.
"Third — because I like you two."
Nia's ears went red. Again.
"L-like..."
"I like Mia because she's bright. I like you because you look for what's real."
"..."
Nia lowered her head. But this time it wasn't shyness. She was trying to hide what she felt.
"...Thank you."
Her voice trembled.
This one — and Mia too — were starving for human warmth.
Just how cold a place that orphanage must have been.
[Common Sense Alteration] wasn't needed here. For these two, safe meals and honest answers came first. I couldn't swear that even my wish to treat them gently wasn't calculation rather than sincerity — but at the very least, I decided I wouldn't use that uncertainty as an excuse to reach for the ability.
Night of the fifth day.
Midnight.
Reading had left my throat dry, so I stepped out for water.
I felt a presence in the corridor.
At my door.
Silver hair glowed white under the moonlight.
Mia.
She stood at my door in her nightclothes — no, she was drifting back and forth. Like someone deciding whether to knock.
Her hand rose toward the door and fell. Rose again. Fell again.
I opened it.
"Wha—!"
Mia staggered backward in shock.
"What are you doing?"
"N-nothing! I was just passing by..."
"Your room's on the other side, isn't it?"
"..."
Mia's face went tomato-red. The look of a girl caught at the one thing she must not be caught doing.
"I couldn't sleep..."
A tiny voice.
"And when you can't sleep, you stroll this corridor?"
"No..."
"Then?"
"..."
Mia ducked her head. Silver hair veiled her face.
"I saw the light still on in your room..."
"And?"
"I thought, if you couldn't sleep either... maybe we could... have some tea, or..."
Under the moonlight, the face of a twenty-year-old woman, dyed scarlet.
One moonlit, flushed face, and my cock reared up thick and heavy. ...Hard, in front of a woman who'd turned up at midnight in her nightclothes. Squeeze your thighs and press it down, damn it. The man who'd pontificate about reading hearts and brewing tea can't even govern his own crotch — no loser alive like this loser.
Affection, worn openly.
Advances, made openly.
Pure Mia.
"Come in."
"What?!"
"You said you wanted tea."
"Oh — yes! Yes!"
Mia trotted in, eyes brimming with curiosity as they roamed the room.
"Sit here."
I pointed at the sofa. She sat, hands folded on her knees as if wound tight.
I brewed the tea and passed it over.
"Thank you..."
"What do you usually do when sleep won't come?"
"Talk with Nia, or... ah, no — Nia sleeps soundly. I'm the only one who doesn't."
"What's troubling you?"
"It's not really worry..."
Mia said it with both hands wrapped around her cup.
Fuck, this is nice.
...A bastard sitting there thinking this is nice with a twenty-year-old grown woman in her nightclothes across from him at midnight. 'Good adult,' my ass.
"Every time I come to a new place, I can't sleep the first week. It was like that at the orphanage, and when I first came to the palace too."
Anxious attachment.
The pattern of fitful sleep that comes from failing to settle into new surroundings — a symptom I'd seen plenty of in my past life's counseling cases.
"It's because you can't confirm this place is safe."
"...What?"
"When you can't sleep somewhere new, it's your unconscious refusing to unwind — it's too busy checking, 'Is this place safe?'"
Mia's eyes went round.
"Is that what it is?"
"Yeah. Once your head rules it safe, sleep comes on its own."
"Then... what do I do..."
"You just have to feel safe."
Mia looked up at me. Crimson eyes, glittering in the moonlight.
"I feel safe next to you, Counselor."
A fastball, right down the middle.
This woman, honestly.
"Mia."
"Yes?"
"You can't go saying things like that to just anyone."
"I don't say them to just anyone."
"..."
"Only to you, Counselor."
My heart lurched.
This wasn't... [Common Sense Alteration], wasn't political self-interest. It was the unadorned affection of a twenty-year-old woman.
The hardest kind to handle.
And the kind most easily broken. Which was exactly why I shouldn't lay a finger on it.
"Finish your tea and go back to your room."
"...Okay."
Mia rose, making no attempt to hide her disappointment.
"If I can't sleep again tomorrow, can I come?"
"..."
I should refuse.
I couldn't afford to grow attached to this woman. A maid Elena had sent. There was no telling what intent rode along with her.
And yet.
"...You can come."
My mouth had moved first.
Every time, like this. The head said no; the mouth undid its own bolt. Affection, like corruption, seeped in faster than any hand could stop it.
Mia's face lit up radiant. A smile brighter than the moon I'd seen at the villa.
"It's a promise!"
She scampered off at a run.
The door closed; the footsteps faded.
Alone in the room, I let out a sigh.
"Mia and Nia. Twins."
Elena's voice drifted back to me.
"You'll like them."
What those words had meant, I was beginning to understand.
A woman with a precision that made you want to curse. She'd known exactly where her bait would bite before she ever cast it.
The same hour.
The far end of the corridor.
Nia had her own door open just a crack, watching for Mia to come back.
Mia came running, cheeks puffed around a grin.
"Nia, were you asleep?"
"...No."
"The Counselor said I can come again tomorrow!"
"...That's nice."
"Want to come with me, Nia? Next time?"
"I'm fine..."
Mia went inside, and Nia closed the door and sat down on her own bed.
Black hair veiled her face.
Crimson eyes glistened wet in the moonlight.
"I... wanted to go too."
The tiny murmur dissolved into the dark.
For now, naturally.
For now, warmly.
For now.
...How long that 'for now' would hold, even I couldn't say. Because so far, it had never once lasted to the end.