Chapter 18
The Count's Secret Maid - Chapter 18
Translation: godsn
Then, Ethan removed the coat he was wearing and draped it over my shoulders. He could be unexpectedly considerate at times like this.
"Miss Maid, Vincent shouldn't continue living like this. Though he appears that way now, he is the master of the Bellunita Count Family. We might delay the inevitable for a while, but eventually, stories about Vincent will spread through society. If he remains like that when it happens, it will only bring disaster. Once the truth is known, the nobles will be desperate to drag Vincent down from his position as Count."
"The master is trying his best."
"It's not enough. He must try harder. At least enough to stand on his own. Because someday, he'll have to walk his path alone."
The lamplight illuminated Ethan's face. In the faint glow, his solemn expression carried a tinge of sorrow.
"Vincent knows. He knows he can't go on like this. Yet despite knowing, he turns away. That can't continue. A life without change is like stagnant water. Time flows onward, the world changes around us—how can anyone remain standing still? Whether he wants to or not, he must accept that change. Because I don't want Vincent to die."
"That's harsh of you."
"If being harsh is what it takes for Vincent to change, then I'll be harsh. At least for now, I believe he needs someone like me."
"You're also being kind."
Ethan turned his head. In his wavering gaze, I could glimpse his anguish.
"You're willing to play the villain for the master's sake. That just shows how much you care about him. You're being kind."
"To Vincent, I'm just a blackmailer though."
"Well, that's true."
My tone admitted what couldn't be denied. At that, Ethan gave a light chuckle.
"But you called him your friend, didn't you?"
"I did."
"Then the master must understand too. Why Lord Ethan made that choice. Because they're friends, I think he must know that feeling well."
Ethan watched over Vincent's condition, cared for him, and played the villain to help him change. I couldn't call it a noble act, but it was undeniable that genuine concern lay at its core. Watching him, I thought I vaguely understood what friendship meant. It was a bond where you could feel each other's care without needing outward displays—that was friendship. He showed me that.
I believe Vincent feels the same way. That must be why he only swings his cane at Ethan's provocations. Just like how he tries not to show it despite being tormented by nightmares every night—that same consideration.
"And to some extent, I agree with what you said. We can't stay like this forever. As a servant, I too hope the master will change."
Then I stopped speaking. Did I truly hope for that? I was hired to serve Vincent as he was—stagnant. But if he overcame his present and changed... wouldn't my usefulness disappear?
Then I suddenly laughed. It was such a distant future that it didn't feel real yet.
"Do you think Vincent will change, Miss Maid?"
"Yes."
"You sound confident."
"Because there's reason to be confident."
Even now, he's changing little by little.
"And upon reflection, I don't think it's true."
"What do you mean?"
"About being a villain. Truly wicked people never admit they're wicked, you see."
The truly wicked believe they're righteous and remain blind to their faults. The people around me were like that. They all thought themselves exceptional and extraordinary. So they saw nothing wrong with tormenting and using others.
Ethan asked with a dazed expression.
"...... Why do you think that?"
"The other servants said Count Christopher is a very good person."
Then he immediately furrowed his brows.
"But honestly, from what I've seen, he seems more like a bad guy."
Frankly, the side he showed me was practically a villain, wasn't it? As I shrugged, Ethan's eyes curved. A laugh filled with amusement reached my ears. That laughter sounded different from usual.
"Have you thought about your wish?"
"My wish?"
"I did say that if you could get Vincent to take even a single step out of his room, I'd grant you one wish."
Ah, right. He had said that. I recalled the bet I'd momentarily forgotten.
"Go ahead, ask for anything. I may look like this, but I'm quite capable."
Ethan spoke cheerfully. So after a brief hesitation, I held out my hand to him.
"Then, become my ally."
"Your ally?"
"I mean, let's form a mutually beneficial relationship."
For some reason, I had a feeling I'd be seeing him again. Since he's Vincent's friend, it wasn't impossible. They say bad connections are more tenacious, after all. If I couldn't avoid him, I might as well face him head-on—making him an ally didn't seem like a bad idea. His personality was a bit questionable, but he knew a lot about Vincent. Besides, didn't he just boast about being capable?
Ethan blinked and stared at my outstretched hand. I pushed my hand toward him.
"I plan to stay here for a long time. Please help me a lot."
"Why is that?"
"Because I have nowhere else to go."
"......."
Ethan hesitated for a moment. Then, as if he'd made up his mind, he nodded and clasped my hand.
"A mutually beneficial relationship, huh? Not bad."
A handshake—a sign of agreement. I tightened my grip on his hand. He firmly gripped mine in return.
"You've gained an excellent ally, Miss Maid. Someone as capable, well-connected, and good-natured as me is hard to come by."
"...... What an honor."
"You sound utterly insincere."
"How could that be?"
When I feigned innocence, he laughed again. I let go of his hand and turned to look out the window. The moon, proudly scattering its light in the darkness, was as beautiful as ever.
The next day, I saw Ethan off with Isabella as he left the Count's estate. Vincent, of course, didn't show up. Wearing the same top hat as when I first met him, Ethan exchanged brief farewells with Isabella before approaching me.
"Sorry for giving you a hard time."
"It's fine."
I wanted to scold him—did he do it knowing full well what he was putting me through?—but I held back since others were watching. As if sensing my thoughts, Ethan smirked mischievously.
"You've treated me so well, Miss Maid. I'll have to visit often."
Infuriating till the end. I discreetly waved my hand at him behind Isabella's back. Just leave already. Ethan chuckled briefly in response.
After finishing the farewells, as I watched Ethan about to board his carriage, a question I'd been meaning to ask suddenly came to mind. Disregarding propriety, I quickly approached him.
"Um, Count Christopher."
He turned to look at me as he was about to step into the carriage.
"Have you been sending letters to my master often?"
"Letters?"
"Yes."
"Hmm, now that you mention it, I have been sending quite a few lately."
"Ah, then......"
After hesitating briefly, I continued.
"By any chance... did you write them with golden ink?"
"......."
Ethan blinked. His silence made me swallow dryly. Was it really him? The one who had exchanged letters with me? "A sprout has appeared on the branch." His words from before resurfaced in my mind. Though he had said it offhandedly, the reason it lingered in my thoughts was because of the reply I had written to him once. It wasn't anything particularly special, but ever since he arrived, the golden letters had stopped coming. That's why I wondered—could it be?
But then he shook his head.
"No. I wrote with black ink."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
His answer was firm. I couldn't help showing my disappointment.
"I see."
"Is there some problem?"
"No. It's nothing."
I schooled my expression and shook my head. Ethan gave me a puzzled look, but I deliberately changed the subject. With that, he laughed lightly as if it were no big deal and climbed into the carriage.
After watching the carriage depart, I turned my head—only to see Vincent standing by the top-floor window of the mansion. But the curtains were immediately drawn. I stared at the window where he had been standing for a moment before turning away myself.
Yet not long after, Ethan returned to the mansion—this time, bringing another guest with him.
The golden letters, which had stopped for a while, arrived again. This time, a small tin accompanied them. Inside was tea leaves.
[It has a pleasant fragrance.]
Indeed, the aroma was lovely—subtle and sweet. It would taste even better steeped, wouldn't it? So, after getting Isabella's permission, I brewed the tea and brought it to Vincent.
"That's black tea from Nobelle."
"How did you know?"
I was surprised he recognized it immediately—the tin was labeled Nobelle, but still. Vincent took a sip before speaking.
"I used to drink it often. Where did you get it?"
"It was a gift."
"I see."
Watching him take repeated sips, it seemed he genuinely liked it. Good, I got him something nice. As I refilled his now-empty teacup, I made a mental note to bring this out whenever he threw one of his tantrums. I should send a proper thank-you reply.
"Next time, just throw punches. What a waste."
I said this while looking at the gaping hole in the window across the door. I didn't understand why he kept breaking things. But the man in question paid no mind, leisurely sipping his tea.
"Worry about useless things, why don't you. More importantly, next time Ethan comes, don't let him in. Chase him out—you can even have someone else do it."
"Pardon?"
The sudden order caught me off guard. Vincent's expression was so indifferent that I wondered if I'd misheard.
"Why? Do you dislike Lord Ethan's visits?"
"Yes."
The reply came instantly to my lighthearted question. Why, though? Sure, Ethan had threatened him, but just yesterday, they'd been bickering while writing replies to letters. It didn't make sense. Weren't they supposed to be close friends? So why did he dislike him so much? If Ethan knew about his condition, there'd be no reason to hide it.
It's as if there's some deeper reason.
Perhaps sensing my confusion, he continued.
"It's not Ethan I dislike."
"Then...?"
"It's his family."
"The Christopher family? Is there a reason?"
He set his teacup down with a clink and handed it to me. I reflexively took it. Then, he haphazardly pulled the sheets over himself and flopped onto the bed. His slightly lowered eyes, peeking through disheveled golden hair, looked deeply sunken.
"My lord?"
"It's nothing."
"......"
"It's that family that made me like this."
The shocking confession came far too calmly.