Chapter 116: The Maid and the Master-2
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 116: The Maid and the Master-2
Emma’s sobbing did not subside easily.
Feeling uncomfortable with the woman who was now soaking his back with her tears, In-ho slinked forward. He had tried to pull away gently to avoid hurting her feelings, but Emma was quick to notice.
Returning to a proper posture, Emma stood beside In-ho and lightly wiped her tears with her fingers.
"Master, I am so sorry. I’ve acted so foolishly..."
"Ah, no. I’m sure there’s a reason for it that I just don’t know."
"Please, speak comfortably to me. No master uses formal speech with their maid."
"Is that so? Ah, should I?"
"Yes. Please."
Emma felt as though she were talking to a man her own age, rather than the master who was usually calm and unresponsive. She cleared her slightly constricted throat and began clearing away the scattered bottles.
"By the way, are there no other maids...?" In-ho asked her back as he watched her tidying the dishes with a clatter.
"Other maids... you say?"
Emma paused for a moment, then turned to meet her master's eyes. She raised a pale hand and placed it over her heart.
"I am the only servant in this mansion, Master."
"Why? It looks... quite large."
As he raised the question, the master’s gaze lingered in midair for a moment. As if seeing something there, he stared at the empty space for a long while.
Dimension Transfers: 6... Cause of Death: Starvation and Thirst...
Watching her master mutter such nonsensical things, Emma assumed his illness had flared up again.
"The other servants were nothing but materialists who only cared about money," Emma said, her voice laced with hatred.
In-ho asked back, struck by the strangely sharp edge in her tone. "Materialists?"
"Yes. Snobs who ran away the moment the family's fortunes began to wane."
"Hmm..."
In-ho stroked his chin. His unkempt beard felt coarse and tickled his palm.
"For now, I don't really know what's what. I don't remember a single thing. Even this body feels foreign."
At her master's clear words, Emma asked cautiously, "Master, do you... by any chance, remember how old you are right now?"
At Emma’s question, the master’s eyes darted back and forth. Though he looked like an old man through and through, the intelligence glinting in his eyes did not belong to the elderly.
"Me? I'm... thirty-one."
Like a student answering a question from a teacher, In-ho answered Emma’s question tentatively.
"Ah... I see. Thirty-one, then."
Emma nodded, her face flushing slightly.
"Rather than continuing our conversation here, I will lead you to a more comfortable place."
Emma held out her hand, palm up, toward In-ho.
In-ho stared at it for a long time before placing both hands on his knees and pushing himself up with effort. Emma’s eyes widened at the sight.
"Where should I go?"
"Ah... Oh, please follow me."
A smile spread across Emma’s face like a blooming flower after her brief daze.
*
Following Emma’s guidance back to his room, In-ho sat down in a plush armchair.
After asking for a moment of his time, Emma brought back some snacks. To In-ho, who knew little about types of desserts, it looked like pudding. He took the small spoon she offered and had a taste; a smooth, sweet flavor spread throughout his mouth.
In-ho slowly took another spoonful, and in the meantime, Emma spoke about the memories her master had lost.
When Emma first began to speak, her tone was quiet and composed, but she didn't stop, talking for a full thirty minutes about everything that had happened.
Though Emma’s explanation of "everything that had happened" seemed heavily colored by her personal opinions, In-ho was able to grasp the general context.
A fallen noble... I suppose that's the best way to put it.
At first, he had thought this was 19th-century England, but as he listened, he realized it was an entirely different world. Just in case, he had subtly brought up countries he knew, like "America" or "Germany," but Emma’s reaction suggested she had never heard of them.
Fortunately, since Emma viewed him as an elderly man with dementia, she didn't seem suspicious even when he talked nonsense, which In-ho found to be a great relief.
Anyway, a novelist. Was the noble a novelist? Or did the novelist become a noble?
Regardless, he was told he had been a very successful novelist in his prime. Apparently, his books sold like wildfire the moment they were written, and he was even invited to the royal court upon completing a series.
Well, you can't stay at the top forever.
As he aged, his popularity gradually waned, and he was eventually pushed down to serializing stories in a local weekly magazine. Now, even that had fallen through, and he had retired.
As his income dwindled, the family's fortunes declined, and he could no longer afford to keep servants. One by one, they had left the mansion. Emma seemed to view this as an act of disloyalty and betrayal.
"Considering the grace they received from you, Master, it would only be right for them to devote their entire lives to serving you without pay..."
Emma’s eyes burned like a freshly lit bonfire, as if something truly incensed her.
"It's only natural since I can't pay them a salary," In-ho said with a smirk.
Emma’s eyes went wide with disbelief. "Master, you are as kind as ever. Even when you were young."
"I don't think I'm actually that nice of a person."
In-ho scratched his cheek, averting his gaze at the direct compliment.
"I've found that people who say that are usually the kindest of all," Emma said earnestly, making In-ho’s face turn even redder.
"Master, I—"
Emma was watching him with an adoring gaze. Just as she took a deep breath to speak—
—Zzzing
The sound of a doorbell, the kind found in wealthy homes, rang out. Emma’s gaze shifted toward the front gate beyond the window. In-ho followed her gaze.
"Is it a guest?" In-ho muttered, looking at the young man standing before the gate.
—Creeak
For a split second, he heard the sound of something snapping out of place. When In-ho turned his head to find the source of the sound, Emma was looking at him with a calm expression.
"It's the son of the local general store owner. He often comes by for door-to-door sales. If we stay quiet, he'll leave."
Contrary to her words, however, the young man continued to linger in front of the gate.
—Zzzing
"Emma! I know you're in there! Come out!"
Despite the distance, the young man's voice reached the second floor.
"It doesn't seem like his goal is making a sale," In-ho noted innocently.
Emma bit her lower lip slightly at her master's remark. "Ah... since I'm the one who usually buys the supplies, I suppose that's why he's calling for me."
"If there's nothing to buy, it might be better to just tell him so. It doesn't look like he'll leave easily."
"...Yes. I understand. Then, if you'll excuse me for a moment..."
Emma gave a polite bow and left the room. In-ho watched the young man outside the window with a look of satisfaction.
"He lives quite diligently. Being young is a good thing."
After a moment of silence, In-ho chuckled.
"Is my mind aging along with my body? I think I preferred being middle-aged. I have no strength in my body at all."
In-ho laughed self-deprecatingly as he shook his head, assessing his own physical state.
*
"I told you not to make such a fuss, as the Master has just woken up."
Emma snapped at the man as she cracked the gate open. Despite Emma’s hostility, Hans gave a good-natured smile.
"But this is the only way to get you to come out, Emma. You hardly ever come to the general store anymore."
"That's because I have nothing in particular to buy."
"Liar. It's because you're conscious of me, isn't it? Be honest."
"I find you to be a nuisance, if that's what you mean."
"My, Emma, you really aren't honest with yourself."
Hans burst out laughing, while Emma bit the inside of her cheek hard to maintain her composure.
"Anyway, what is your business? If you say you just came to see my face, I will report you to the police."
"It's nothing else, but the village festival is coming up soon."
"And?"
"Do you have someone to dance with?"
"Shouldn't you first ask if I even intend to dance?"
"Eh? You're not coming to the festival?"
"I'm not going. Why would I go there?"
"But... you promised to dance with me."
"Hah?"
For the first time, a crack appeared in Emma’s rigid mask. Her face was a mixture of equal parts bewilderment and rage, as if she had heard something that should never have been uttered.
"You know, back then at the store, when I asked if we could dance sometime."
Hans was desperate, heedless of her reaction.
"And how did I respond then?"
"You said, 'Once the busy work at the mansion is finished.'"
"I am very busy with work lately. Now, if you'll excuse me."
"W-Wait!"
Hans’s arm thrust roughly through the closing door, grabbing Emma’s shoulder. Emma’s face contorted.
"Is it because of Master In-ho? Is that why you can't come out?"
"Why are you suddenly bringing up the Master?"
"Don't play innocent. Do you think I don't know that Master In-ho is on his deathbed—"
Slap!
Emma slapped Hans’s hand away. Caught off guard, Hans withdrew his hand, and Emma didn't miss the opportunity to slam the door shut.
Bang!
The iron gate shut with a loud clang.
"Watch your mouth, Mr. Hans," Emma warned in a low voice before turning back toward the mansion.
"Emma! I'm not giving up!"
Hearing Hans’s voice from behind her, Emma ground her teeth.
Grind, gnash.
Entering the house, Emma headed for the second floor, scrubbing the shoulder where he had grabbed her.
"How dare that filthy wretch lay a hand on my body? Filthy, filthy, filthy. The only one who can touch my body is the Master... only the Master..."