Chapter 12
The Count's Secret Maid - Chapter 12
Translation: godsn
"Isabella, you're still as lovely as ever. You haven't changed a bit."
"And Lord Ethan has grown even more manly since I last saw him."
"Ah, no need to flatter me. I've aged terribly."
Ethan stroked his chin and settled onto the sofa. Isabella gave me a meaningful glance. Still holding the tray, I quickly set down tea before him.
"Thank you."
He smiled warmly at such a trivial service. It felt strange—this clearly noble man with his refined appearance treating a mere maid like me with such kindness.
"Vincent's condition has worsened considerably since I last saw him. He wasn't this bad before. How long has he been confined to his room?"
"About half a year."
"Half a year... I see."
Ethan smiled bitterly. His expression was laced with concern. It was clear—Ethan knew about Vincent's condition.
Which meant he knew about the blindness.
If he was aware it was being kept secret even from the household staff, their bond must run deeper than most.
"Vincent and I are friends. Very close friends."
Perhaps noticing how intently I was staring, Ethan kindly added this explanation. I immediately lowered my gaze and bowed my head.
"My apologies."
"Haha, no need for that. You're the new maid, I hear?"
"Yes."
"Hmm, you give off a different vibe from the previous one..."
His assessing gaze swept over me. My body stiffened involuntarily under the scrutiny.
Fortunately, the topic soon shifted.
"Is Vincent still keeping to his room?"
"Yes."
"His current state... Well, what just happened speaks for itself. I heard the reports. There were several more incidents after I left. Business matters kept me away—I was careless."
"You did your utmost, Lord Ethan."
Ethan traced the rim of his teacup with a rueful smile.
"Isabella, I chose family over friend. That's the truth. The timing was bad, yes, but that's just an excuse. I left thinking Vincent could handle things alone—that was my arrogant assumption. But I never wanted Vincent to end up like this..."
"Lord Ethan."
"I've never seen Vincent like this before. Not even when Count Bellunita and the Countess died in that accident."
Ethan's face darkened with what I recognized as concern and sorrow for his friend. It struck me as strange—this ability to feel another's pain as if it were his own. Is this what true friendship looks like?
Seriously. Here I'd been thinking the world revolved around me, swallowing every fear, and all along he had a friend like this. Though I have to admit it's shocking that bastard of a master could inspire such loyalty.
"Isabella, I must see Vincent's face this time. If I leave like this, I'll be losing sleep every night."
"I'll have a room prepared for your stay."
Isabella signaled me with her eyes. I nodded and exited the drawing room.
"Does it suit your taste?"
"Passable."
Vincent scooped rice porridge into his mouth. The silent, deliberate way he chewed still carried that innate nobility.
Recently, Vincent had begun eating on his own. An astonishing change, truly. The day after that dreamlike night, when I'd placed the spoon in his hand out of habit, he'd slowly started feeding himself. I'd stared in shock. 'Wh-what's gotten into you? Eating so properly.' 'Shoving food down my throat hard enough to crush my windpipe was getting tiresome. At this rate, I'd choke to death someday.' 'What a delightful sense of humor.' 'Not joking.' It wasn't that bad, really. Though I grumbled internally, I couldn't help feeling moved watching him eat independently. It reminded me of taming that stray cat outside Mark's bakery years ago. 'you' re not feeling unwell, are you?' 'Shut your mouth before I throw this bowl.' His temper remained unchanged, of course.
Still, it was a heartening change. But the amount he ate left something to be desired. Watching the rice porridge bowl still less than half-empty, I cautiously made a suggestion.
"How about eating just a little more?"
"I'm full."
"Just a bit more."
"I said I'm full."
Vincent's face twisted in irritation. With reluctant disappointment, I pursed my lips and took the bowl from him.
"You need to take your medicine now. Here."
When I pulled his hand toward the medicine bowl and placed it in his grasp, he obediently drank it down too. Good, very good. I watched him fondly. As he emptied the bowl, I took out a round object I'd prepared in advance from my pocket. After peeling off the outer shell encasing the sweet, I placed it in his mouth.
"What's this?"
"It's candy. Since you always complain about the bitter taste, I thought it would be nice to have something sweet after taking your medicine."
"Do you think I'm a child?"
To me, he might have grown in body, but inside he was still a child. Still, he must have found it bitter too, since he didn't spit it out.
"What happened to that guy?"
"Who are you referring to?"
"The one who came this morning."
"Ah, Lord Ethan Christopher said he would stay here for a few days. He insisted on seeing you in person."
At that, Vincent tightly shut his eyes. His face looked like he'd witnessed hell. What's more, he let out a rare sigh and even rubbed his face with both hands. Watching him, I recalled the guest from earlier. He seemed genuinely concerned, so I couldn't understand why Vincent disliked him so much.
"Will you see him?"
"Don't. Never let him into my room."
Vincent waved his hand dismissively and lay back on the bed. Watching him, I finally voiced what I'd been wanting to say for a long time.
"Master, you need to bathe."
"......"
But he gave no answer, simply turning his body away. Curled up tightly toward the wall, he showed absolutely no intention of washing. I stared blankly at his back for a moment before cautiously approaching and sniffing. Then I grimaced.
Grabbing his arm over my shoulder, I helped him up and off the bed. Vincent, caught off guard and dragged down, immediately twisted his body. Just days ago he would have roared in anger first, but now he asked in a resigned voice.
"What are you doing?"
"You smell."
I tightened my grip on his arm. I couldn't let go this time. It was the same smell I'd noticed since first entering this room. At first it was unfamiliar, then I'd been too busy accommodating his moods to pay attention, and before I knew it, I'd grown accustomed. I'd at least brought damp cloths to wipe his face, neck, and hands—the exposed areas—but it was hardly sufficient. Today the stench emanating from him was so strong it made my head ache.
"When was the last time you bathed? The stench is piercing. If you can't see, you could have asked a servant to help you wash."
"Stop talking nonsense and let go."
"You need to bathe."
I'd gone to the bathroom as soon as I entered the room and filled the tub with water in advance. Today, I was determined to wash him. Vincent flapped the arm draped over my shoulder, but subduing his weakened state wasn't difficult. Keeping a firm grip on the arm around my shoulder, I wrapped my other arm around his back, seized his waist, and led him toward the bathroom. Led is putting it nicely—he was practically being dragged. Right up to the moment we entered the bathroom and approached the tub, he resisted stubbornly.
When we reached the tub, I guided his hand to feel its edge. As he groped for it and finally gripped the rim tightly, I could see his intention to flip it over. Startled, I grabbed his wrist—he held on stubbornly, refusing to let go.
I tried to pull him away from the bathtub, and a battle of strength ensued as he resisted. This tug-of-war continued for a while until I lost my balance, bringing it to an end. However, since I still had one of his arms draped over my shoulder, he too toppled forward.
With a loud splash, we collapsed onto the bathroom floor. Startled, I turned to see Vincent sprawled inside the bathtub. Soaked to the bone, he looked momentarily stunned before his entire body began trembling—with rage.
"......"
"Are you... alright?"
"Y-you... you......"
Seeing him too furious to even form words left me equally speechless. When I cautiously reached to grab his arm, he slapped my hand away sharply. Then he tried to push himself up by gripping the bathtub's edge, but the slippery surface kept making him lose his footing and plunge back into the water. Each time, the water sloshed violently, drenching him even more thoroughly. At this point, he probably didn't need a bath anymore.
"......"
Suddenly, his movements froze. Just as I was unconsciously tensing up while watching him, the sound of the door opening reached my ears. Footsteps followed, and soon Isabella entered the bathroom. She stopped in her tracks upon seeing me and Vincent in the bathtub.
For a brief moment, she looked surprised. But true to her nature, she quickly regained her composure.
"Next time, it would be better to undress first before doing this."
"......"
"I have something to report. I'll take over the remaining duties."
As she said this, her gaze shifted to me. Seizing the opportunity, I bowed hastily and quickly turned away. Grabbing the pile of laundry I'd gathered, I scurried out of the room. Saved!
"Did you hear that Lord Ethan has arrived?"
Lenika asked as she came to collect the laundry. Since we saw each other daily, we'd reached the point of exchanging simple conversations. I glanced at the items she'd brought while answering.
"Do you know him?"
"He's the master's close friend. And the second young master of House Christopher, too."
"He must be quite famous, then."
"Of course he is. Not just because of his family, but because of this."
Lenika waved her hand up and down in front of her face. Handsome, I suppose? Well, he certainly had striking features. And judging by how politely he treated even servants like me...
"He did seem quite kind."
"Yes, he's very warm-hearted. You know how people like us are often ignored by those above us, right? But Lord Ethan never disregards us—he treats everyone kindly. That's why he's extremely well-liked among the female staff."
"I see."
"I've only ever seen him from afar, though. How wonderful would it be if I could exchange even a single word with him?"
Lenika cupped her cheeks in both hands and giggled dreamily. Her face flushed with rapture as she imagined speaking to Ethan.
"Lord Ethan Christopher is in the guest room of the annex. If you'd like to see him, you could always visit the annex later. You might even get to exchange greetings by chance."
"Ah, no way! We're not allowed in the annex."
Lenika frantically waved her hands as if to shoo away such a terrifying thought. My eyes widened in surprise.