Chapter 33: Déjà Vu
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 33: Déjà Vu
"Phew, it’s as delicious as ever."
Muen sat alone at the dining table, elegantly maneuvering his knife and fork as he enjoyed his dinner.
The chef of the Duke’s estate had once again maintained his high standards, providing Muen with a peak culinary experience.
"Since you find it so delicious, Young Master, you shouldn't have forgotten to eat in the first place."
Standing behind Muen, An couldn't help but complain.
"If the Master or the Lady found out, I would be the one punished."
"My apologies, An," Muen said with a sheepish smile. "I’ll be more careful from now on."
"You shouldn't just say the words."
An leaned down and placed a crystal goblet before Muen.
"Would you like a drink, Young Master? This is a vintage red wine sent by Count Locke. It’s said his winery only produces a hundred bottles of this specific label a year. It’s a treasure he’s usually reluctant to drink himself, and the market price has been driven up to a staggering two hundred thousand Emiels a bottle."
"I..."
Muen was tempted to accept. After all, this was a fine wine he could never have afforded in his past life; naturally, he wanted a taste.
But then he thought about what he had to finish after dinner. Alcohol wasn't conducive to memorization. Muen suppressed the urge and chose to decline.
"Forget it. I won't drink."
An’s hand, which was gripping the wine bottle, stiffened.
"...Then what would the Young Master like to drink?"
"Coffee."
Coffee was better for staying awake.
Although it didn't pair particularly well with dinner, Muen didn't want to bring any drinks into the library. Every volume in that collection was precious.
"...Coffee."
"Is something wrong?"
Muen noticed An seemed a bit off. She didn't move with her usual efficiency to fulfill his request.
"My apologies, Young Master Muen. For certain reasons, your only beverage options tonight are red wine or black tea."
"Hmm?"
Muen felt like he had heard those words somewhere before.
However, he didn't dwell on it and asked subconsciously, "Why?"
"Due to a certain maid's negligence, a rat bit through the bag where the coffee beans were stored. The rat ate quite a bit of the coffee inside as well," An replied. "I assume Young Master Muen wouldn't want to drink coffee that has been gnawed on by a rat."
"...I certainly wouldn't."
Muen nodded. "Black tea, then."
If it was a matter of staying alert, tea worked just as well.
"Very well."
An bowed slightly, preparing to leave to brew the tea.
"Wait."
Muen suddenly called out to her, looking puzzled. "Are you going to brew it yourself, An?"
"Hmm? Young Master, am I not a maid?"
"But you're the Head Maid now. A small task like brewing tea..."
"Even if I am the Head Maid, I am still the Young Master’s personal maid. Something like brewing tea for the Young Master is naturally something I must do myself."
"Is that so..."
Muen frowned slightly. "Go on, then."
"Yes, Young Master," An nodded slightly. "Please excuse me for a moment."
"..."
Watching An’s retreating figure, Muen couldn't help but rub his chin, whispering in confusion, "Something feels strange. It’s like I’m having a massive sense of déjà vu."
But he couldn't put his finger on exactly what was wrong.
"Maybe I'm just too tired," Muen laughed at himself. "How could An ever do anything to harm me?"
...
A short while later, An returned with the black tea.
Muen had just finished his meal and was dabbing the corners of his mouth with a napkin.
"Thank you."
Muen took the tea, intending to take a small sip.
But just as he raised the cup, he paused.
He looked down at the tea, then up at the expressionless An, and couldn't help but speak.
"An."
"Yes? Is there something else, Young Master?"
"This tea is very... red."
"But isn't black tea supposed to be reddish?"
"But the tea I usually drink is a pale amber. This is bright crimson."
"It might be due to a different variety of tea leaves," An explained. "Just as oranges from the Beidun'er region are smaller but sweeter than those from the Nanxi Territory, black tea from different regions can have subtle differences in color."
"...In that case."
Muen handed the cup back and stared into An’s eyes. "Why don't you drink it first?"
"..."
An looked at the teacup and said nothing.
Her face remained devoid of expression. If Muen hadn't been close enough to catch the faint floral scent lingering on her, he might have thought he was standing before a statue rather than a living person.
After a moment of silence, An took the cup.
"Does the Young Master suspect me?"
"No, I just think you've had a busy day, An. You should have a cup of tea and rest."
"You are so kind, Young Master."
An slowly brought the cup to her lips.
Muen continued to stare at her intently, refusing to miss even the slightest suspicious movement. He wouldn't look away until she had swallowed every drop.
"Sigh."
But in the end, An didn't drink it.
Instead, she suddenly let out a sigh and said softly, "Young Master, when did you become so vigilant?"
"I knew something was wrong!"
Muen leaped away from his chair, hands on his hips as he sneered. "You drugged the tea, didn't you? Hmph, trying to fool me with such a cliché scheme... how naive!"
"Cliché?"
An tilted her head. "Does that mean the Young Master has seen someone else use this same trick?"
"Cough, cough... that’s not important."
Muen gave a dry cough, his expression immediately turning serious as his gaze locked onto An.
"What matters is why you would drug me. Why would you betray me, An?"
An was Muen’s personal maid.
She had been by his side since he was eight years old.
Whether in the original book or in this reality, An was supposed to be the person most loyal to Muen.
Muen couldn't fathom what reason An could possibly have to betray him.
"I have never betrayed the Young Master."
An looked down at the teacup. Through the reflection in the liquid, she gazed at her own eyes—eyes that showed no ripple of emotion even though her plot had been exposed.
But only she knew that beneath those calm eyes, a darkness and desire she had long suppressed were surging frantically.
Surging, churning, and finally overflowing.
"I am simply... putting everything back on the right track."
"The right track?"
Muen frowned, unable to understand her words.
"I don't care what your intentions are, but since you've already failed, then—"
"Failed?"
An suddenly looked up and smiled. "Why would the Young Master think that?"
"Eh?"
Muen froze.
It wasn't just because of her words, but because of the expression on An’s usually dignified face—a look he had never seen before, one that was slightly distorted and predatory.
She was indeed smiling, but behind those deep black eyes, it felt as if a monster was breaking free, casting a gaze of pure greed toward Muen—the way a dragon might look at a priceless gemstone.
Crackle.
A crisp sound snapped Muen’s consciousness back to reality.
Muen’s eyes widened in shock. He watched as Ann—using those slender, fair, delicate hands that usually tidied his room, folded his clothes, and served his tea, hands that had never held a weapon—suddenly crushed the teacup in her grip.
No, not just crushed. She pulverized it.
Muen saw fine porcelain powder, mixed with tea, trickling through the gaps between An’s fingers.
"You're the one who forced my hand, Young Master~"
An took a step toward Muen, then another.
"This is bad."
A chill shot up from the soles of Muen’s feet straight to his skull.
What kind of maid has that kind of grip strength?!
But before Muen could even scream in his mind, he heard the sound of something whistling through the air.
It came from behind his head.
Then, Muen’s vision went black, and he instantly lost consciousness.