It's Fine -5-
"It's fine." That single phrase stabbed into my chest like a dagger.
It hurt more than anything—sharper than any awl piercing my heart. Seeing Ricardo smile so casually, gripping my hand tight, filled me with such hatred. Don't you hate me? Even you, who had nothing to do with it, went through that hell—aren't you resentful toward me? The words welled up to the tip of my tongue. I gritted my teeth and said to Ricardo,
"What... what's fine about it?"
It was a question laced with resentment. Clearly, it wasn't fine—why pretend it was? I squeezed Ricardo's hand hard. Hard enough to make it tremble. I was angry, furious at this lying Ricardo. I wanted him to see my sincerity.
"What do you mean, fine?"
Ricardo looked at me—not with disillusionment or resentment, but with regret. I wished he'd say something. Even now, curse me out. Call me a wicked bitch. Say my fault ruined his body. Anything but stay silent like this. Then maybe I'd feel at ease.
It's fine. His words echoed in my head. I asked him, pouring in my hope for an honest answer. Even you, so kind, always by my side—don't you hate me even a little? Part of me prayed harsh words wouldn't come from his mouth. I'm such a coward, after all. My voice trembled. I wanted to sound scary. To scold him, tell him not to joke—but stupidly, it shook.
"It's not fine. It can't be fine...!"
In my heart, I imagined he must hate me too. Leaving him with an indelible scar wasn't enough; I made him suffer unimaginable pain. All he got in return was a madwoman chasing Mikhail. If it were me, I'd hate him to death. Butler, friend—whatever, I'd have abandoned it all and run. Why didn't you? A torrent of thoughts and rage surged inside, but all that escaped my lips was a coward's whine.
"Don't lie."
"I'm not lying."
Tears fell onto the blanket. More tears because this butler refused to say anything hateful to the end. I'd thought I'd cried enough, but apparently, there were plenty left. Hiding my crying face, I said,
"It hurt, didn't it?"
"..."
"It hurt like you were dying."
"It's fi—"
"What... what's fine about it?!"
I yanked my hand away irritably.
"You could have died! Do you get that? You could have died...!"
Ricardo bowed his head. He hadn't done anything wrong, yet he hung his head, clenching and unclenching his fists on the bed. His hunched shoulders hurt my heart. I buried my face in the blanket. Even rubbing my eyes and trying to steady my surging emotions, my trembling shoulders wouldn't stop the sobs.
"You could have died right there...!"
"..."
Ricardo let out a deep breath. A faint tremor in that haah. He took another long breath to steady himself, then spoke softly to me, my face buried in the blanket.
"I knew."
His flat voice chilled my heart to stone. My breath caught. I'd heard words from Ricardo's mouth I never wanted to.
Why... Before the retort could form, he continued.
"Because I thought it was the best option."
The best... I didn't want to deny it, but it was the only way. The best choice. But there were options that wouldn't have saved me... His word "best" silenced me. Ricardo spoke in a trembling voice, like he was forcing out words he didn't want to say.
"Miss. To me..."
Ha... Ricardo's sigh. He raked his hair irritably, then buried his face in his hands like I was, and continued.
"You are truly precious."
"Am I not precious to you? I...!"
"I know. I know you treasure me. That's why you took in a slum brat like me as your butler."
His words made me retort. His bold defense downplayed it—no big deal to risk his life. I'm no world-saving hero like Mikhail, no universally loved saintess like Yuria. There's no reason to stake your life on a mere ill-tempered villainess. I just picked him up out of curiosity; he was lucky, that's all. If he claimed to risk his life for something so trivial, I couldn't believe it. It felt like a lie to placate me. So I said bluntly,
"You'd risk your life for something like that? Are you insane? Do you think you're some saintess or hero?"
"It's not 'something like that.'"
Ricardo grimaced, lifting his bangs. A face more unpleasant than when showing his arm scars. He revealed a small indentation on his forehead. Faded by time, but the deep mark proved it was a scar. Ricardo took a deep breath and continued.
"To me, it's not trivial."
I didn't know the details of that scar. I'd just picked up a dying kid in the rain. To me, it held no great meaning. Looking at Ricardo, I said,
"That was... just you getting lucky."
He replied firmly.
"Sometimes, luck changes a person's life."
Ricardo covered his forehead.
"It's too big to call trivial. It changed my entire life. Begging in the slums, extorting kids..."
"You were a kid too."
"I was a special kid, so that's beside the point."
Taking a deep breath, Ricardo said,
"I'm your butler. For 13 years, I've served you. I know what you like, what you hate."
"So what if you're a butler."
Ricardo grinned playfully.
"'So what'? I take pride in my profession."
Ridiculous. What pride in being a butler? I just gave him a nameplate and a black suit. No mansion, no wealth, no status like other nobles' butlers—for a fallen lady's butler, what was there? His words were just fancy excuses. I wanted his true feelings. The resentment inside. So I spat bitterly, like a hedgehog bristling unintentionally.
"Just curse me out."
"..."
"Say you hate me, that you're sick of watching me. Say you pity me."
Vain pride. No other answer made sense. If not pity, I couldn't accept his actions. Ricardo looked at me. Tears dripping onto the blanket, spitting cold words.
"Miss. Asking me to curse you with that face? Zero convincing power."
"Who could curse while you're snotting everywhere?"
I said, don't joke. I glared a bit scarily this time, but Ricardo replied in earnest.
Ha. He sighed, glanced at the starry window, then at my face. The face shedding unstoppable tears despite not wanting to.
"You said you care for me. I care for you a little more. Just a little."
"What...?"
"13 years is more intense than it seems. At first, I thought you were a madwoman, but affection grew."
Ricardo smiled gently.
"You wanted curses?"
He whispered a mild swear in my ear.
"Idiot."
Then lifted his head, refreshed.
"That should settle it. If you're still mad, don't complain about side dishes later—just eat properly."
Don't. Say that. We couldn't gloss over it again. We needed closure. I said to Ricardo,
"Don't you hate me?"
He pondered briefly.
"Except when you fuss over side dishes. As long as you don't pick out the peppers."
"No... not that."
I voiced my inner thoughts. What Ricardo really thought of me. Worries if he hated or disliked me.
"Because of me..."
My lips wouldn't part. Trying to speak of that time, fear sealed them—but this was my only chance. I knew I'd be too cowardly to ask this fool of a butler otherwise. With trembling heart, I said,
"Because of me... you went through that, and you don't hate me?"
Ricardo answered plainly.
"Not one bit. It was my choice."
Tears flowed. I'd thought no more would come after crying so long, but his casual words brought them again.
"It... it's all my fault. If I hadn't liked Mikhail, you wouldn't have suffered like that."
Emotions churned.
"If I...! Hadn't stupidly used black magic, you could have lived happily. Gone to the academy, done something other than butler."
The weight of his ruined life—because of me—crushed my shoulders. Everything from one person like me. No one to blame, no excuses—all my responsibility. Guilt kept my head low.
"It's...!"
My voice shook. Sobs choked words.
"I'm... truly sorry..."
Grabbing Ricardo's arm, I buried my face. What if it hurt just from my grip? Worry flickered, but without it, my shaking heart would collapse.
"I'm insanely sorry... Seeing your pained face makes me want to go mad..."
If it were me, I'd avoid his face, live like enemies.
"You really don't hate me?"
Everything was in those words. The sin of ruining Ricardo's life. The fault of making him suffer needless pain—all in that one phrase.
Hnng... Overwhelmed emotions reached their limit.
"I'm... truly sorry..."
I clung to his arm and cried. Ricardo held me, answering shortly.
"It's fine. Really."
Calmly stroking my back, he said,
"How can you stop someone from liking someone?"
Ricardo lifted my head, squishing my goldfish-like face. He chuckled softly.
"Now, let's end this."
As always, ending with a joke.
"You look ugly when you cry."
That night, I sobbed in Ricardo's arms till dawn.
The next day. Ricardo replaced the damp cloth on my feverish forehead and said,
"Panda..."
"Don't laugh."
"Your eyes are fist-sized."
"Eeeek... I said don't laugh!!"
I snatched the cloth from my forehead and hurled it at Ricardo.