Chapter 15
The Count's Secret Maid - Chapter 15
Translation: godsn
But I couldn't just come out and say that directly.
"He's doing well."
"That's unexpected. I thought he'd be wallowing in despair."
"Did the person who knows that resort to threats?"
"Did it seem like a threat?"
"Forcing someone to do what they don't want is no different from a threat."
I knew it sounded cheeky, but let's call a spade a spade—that was indeed a threat.
"You're right. It was a threat."
Yet Ethan shamelessly admitted to it. What a bastard.
"Yes, I'm absolutely a bastard."
"......"
He grinned as if he'd seen right through me. I pretended not to notice and kept wiping the window.
"Miss Maid, I'm being sincere. That's why I came to this mansion. I can no longer stand by and watch my friend, Count Bellunita, destroy himself. To be precise, he's becoming useless."
I sighed and turned to look at him. Ethan continued.
"It might sound cold, but Vincent is in a position where he has no choice but to make such judgments. And this—more than Vincent's well-being—is something I cannot tolerate. I don't want Vincent to end up like this. Before we were friends, our families were already entangled in mutual interests."
Ethan gave a bitter smile. He didn't seem like the same person who had just been checking on Vincent's condition with such sorrow. Now he looked every bit the villain. Was that act intentional?
"It'd be nice if you could soothe Vincent a little, Miss Maid. So he can come out of his room."
"I don't have that kind of power."
"I beg to differ. From where I stand, you seem to have tremendous influence."
"You flatter me."
I bowed my head slightly and returned to cleaning the window. Laughter came from behind me, but I pretended not to hear and focused on my work.
After finishing the floor cleaning and putting away the supplies, I checked the time and headed to the study. I needed to pick out a book to read to Vincent today.
Ethan trailed after me like a persistent shadow.
Why does he keep following me? Doesn't he have anything better to do? Even when I made my discomfort obvious, he paid no heed. Eventually, he followed me all the way into the study, looking around curiously before asking,
"What are you planning to do here?"
"I'm going to choose a book."
"For you to read?"
"To read to His Lordship."
Ethan's eyes widened. I walked over to the shelf of fairy tales and scanned the titles. Last time, I'd taken every book from one section, but he'd already finished them all. The stories were short, so they didn't take long to read.
Fortunately, Vincent let me continue reading to him. This was another change from before. He no longer dismissed them outright as boring like he had initially, nor did he act as if he didn't want to listen. He simply listened quietly, occasionally pointing out my pronunciation or pacing.
'Too fast. I can't keep up from the listener's perspective.'
'Ah, my apologies.'
'You need to enunciate each word clearly for me to understand. I need to be able to visualize it in my mind. Make sure you describe the scenes properly.'
'I'll be more careful.'
Reading to someone was entirely different from reading alone. My eyes moved faster than my mouth, absorbing words and painting images in my mind as I imagined the scenes. But for him, it wasn't like that. He had to piece together fragments from my voice and assemble them like a puzzle before he could imagine anything.
I had volunteered simply because I could read, but this wasn't easy either. Choosing fairy tales to entertain him had turned out to be the right decision—even with those short stories, I had to endure dozens of corrections from him.
"You read to Vincent?"
"Yes."
"And Vincent... just listens quietly...?"
"At first, he refused, but lately, he listens quietly. Until now, I've been reading fairy tales to him, but this time I thought I'd try a book with a bit more substance."
"......"
I had been considering moving beyond fairy tales. So while browsing the shelves one level above where the fairy tale books were kept, my cheek suddenly stung. Turning, I saw Ethan making a strange face. His expression gradually twisted into a pitiful grimace, his lips quivering uncontrollably. And then—
"Pfft—HAHAHA!"
A loud burst of laughter erupted.
My eyes widened as I stared at Ethan. He was clutching his stomach, laughing so hard he could barely breathe.
"That—that pride of his—pfft—f-fairy tales—kekeke—pfftHAHA!"
Ethan hunched over, shoulders shaking with laughter. Even under my bewildered gaze, he couldn't stop. I had no idea what had struck him as so funny, but I shrugged and turned my attention away. One thing I'd learned about Ethan so far was that he was a very strange person. And strange people's minds were inherently hard to understand.
More importantly, I needed to pick a book to read to Vincent today. I carefully flipped through the thicker, densely printed books, weighing my options.
"This one seems good."
Ethan, who had finally stopped laughing, pulled out a book and handed it to me. Judging by the title, it seemed to be some kind of adventure story. Neither too thin nor too thick, it seemed just right for reading to Vincent.
"It's a book Vincent loved reading when he was young."
"Ah."
Just moments ago, he'd been talking about family interests and politics, but I suppose friends are still friends after all. The fact that he knew Vincent's tastes so well proved it. I bowed slightly in thanks and accepted the book respectfully.
"Vincent loves adventure novels. Ever since he was little, he'd devour anything about adventures like a madman. Especially stories about exploring distant lands. What he hates are love stories—he finds them boring and won't even glance at them."
"Thank you. I'll keep that in mind when choosing books."
"I should be the one thanking you."
Huh? When I looked up, Ethan was smiling warmly—a rare sight. Not the sly, flirtatious look he usually gave when trying to charm someone, but a gaze filled with pure delight and relief.
"I'm glad someone like you is by his side."
What did he mean by that?
"Reading fairy tales to that Vincent, no less."
Fairy tales—why? I tilted my head in confusion, but he stifled another laugh with his hand.
"What do you think, Maid? Do you think Vincent will ever leave his room?"
"I wouldn't dare presume to understand the depths of my master's heart."
"Shall we make a bet?"
The sudden proposal caught me off guard. A bet? When I looked at him in surprise, Ethan continued.
"If you can get Vincent to so much as step a single foot outside his room, I'll grant you one wish."
He took a step closer and held out his hand. I stared blankly at it before shaking my head.
"Lord Ethan. I don't understand why you're saying this to me, but as I mentioned earlier, I have no such power. I'm merely a maid—how could someone like me possibly make my master step outside?"
For him, that room was his only sanctuary. He recoiled at the thought of taking even a single step beyond it. No, he wouldn't even get out of bed. Of course, he couldn't live like that forever, but expecting anything more from him right now wasn't easy.
"So this is a bet between you and me, then."
He seized my hand and lifted it. Even holding my lowly hand, his expression didn't change. No—if anything, he tightened his grip, as if refusing to let go.
"Please grant me this wish, Maid. If it's for Vincent's sake."
"Why are you doing this to me?"
"Because you seem like the easiest target here?"
What the hell, you bastard? Irritated, I tried to shake off his grip, but he only tightened his hold, refusing to let go. His strong grip pressed painfully against my skin, making my hand tingle. I scowled at him with one eye narrowed.
"Let me go."
"I'd like to place my hopes on you, Maid."
"And if I refuse?"
"I'd rather you didn't. I'd like to remain a good person in your eyes."
Now he was outright threatening me. Even as I stared at him in disbelief, he merely smirked, utterly unbothered.
"Since it's a bet, I suppose we should consider what happens if I win. Hmm, if I win... then..."
His pupils rolled sideways as if deep in thought before locking back onto me. With eyes curved into crescents, he pressed a kiss to the back of my hand—just as he had when he first arrived here.
"I'll have to claim your neck, Maid."
Ding-dong. His fingers mimed slitting my throat. That mischievous grin twisted into the chilling visage of a villain.
Why me? Why does it have to be me? I'm just a maid here to serve my master.
Ethan only laughed cheerfully at my horrified expression. Now, his smiling face seemed terrifying. Who ever called him kind? He only pretended to be gentle—in truth, he was utterly inscrutable. I couldn't understand why he'd come all this way to threaten Vincent by exposing his blindness, nor why he'd propose this absurd bet to me.
Was he trying to help Vincent... or was he asking me to help him?
And that confusion inevitably led back to Vincent.
"Master."
Vincent remained silent the entire time I read to him. Leaning against the wall, listening to my voice, he was unusually quiet today. His bowed head was hidden behind his hair, making it impossible to read his expression. His slumped shoulders only made him look more drained.
All the effort I put into bringing this book was wasted. Seeing him so dejected sapped my energy too. I bent down, trying to catch a glimpse of his face, calling softly, "Master?" But he still didn't respond.
"Cheer up. There must be a way."
"...... Stop spouting nonsense."
Finally, a reaction. But his voice was unbearably gloomy. This unfamiliar demeanor unsettled me—I'd rather he yelled or threw a tantrum like usual. Seeing him like this just made my heart ache.
"Why is it nonsense? You just need to show them you're trying."
"How the hell am I supposed to show that? By stumbling around like a fool, groping the floor? Fine, I'll give them a damn show then."
"Master."
"It's pointless. You're just telling me to admit my condition."
He buried his face in his hands. His hunched form trembled, tormented by his own helplessness. Grief was swallowing him whole again.
"Don't cry."
"I'm not."
"But your heart is weeping."
"......"
Vincent let out a shaky breath. I grew anxious—what if he had another episode? He was fragile to shock, so moments like this always worried me. 'I'll have to claim your neck, Maid.' And the fact that this bet only happened because Ethan forced the issue weighed on me too.
After wrestling with my thoughts, I shifted closer, carefully studying his condition. Then, gently, I tugged at his index finger, guiding it downward—and his hands fell away from his face without resistance. His shadowed expression was revealed. True to his word, he wasn't crying. But that barren face only made my heart ache more.
"Let's think of a way together."