Page 36 of The Villainess Whom I Had Served for 13 Years Has Fallen

It was another sunny morning.

As always, I powerfully strode toward the young lady’s second-floor room, dressed in my neatly ironed butler suit and black shoes.

It was now 10 am. Normally, the lady would be having breakfast at this time, but due to my oversleeping, I failed to synchronize with the lady’s internal clock.

I thought to myself,

‘I’ve overslept again. I wonder if the lady will scold me.’

After realizing that my right hand could no longer wield a sword, I had desperately devoted myself to finding an alternative, which naturally resulted in increased instances of oversleeping.

Fortunately, the lady was not a morning person, so oversleeping for about an hour was not a big problem. Nevertheless, guilt over not fulfilling my butler duties properly had me fastening the buttons on myshirtand scurrying down the hallway.

At that moment, I encountered the maid holding a laundry basket in the corridor.

“You’re busy today, Mister Butler.”

The only maid of the mansion greeted me with a kind smile, giving a business-like greeting to her de facto employer, me.

Content with the maid’s professional demeanor, I greeted her with a nod.

“Good morning.”

“Yes, good morning. Oh, by the way, did the lady say anything special to you yesterday?”

“I haven’t heard anything.”

“Ah... a surpri...”

The maid trailed off in her speech. She seemed to have something to say, glancing at me briefly before muttering ‘never mind.’ Her vague comments from this morning put me in an awkward position.

Being someone who can’t stand not knowing, I pressed the maid for more information, but all I got in return was her mirthful eye-smile.

“It’s nothing really. I just meant the weather is nice.”

She hinted I’d find out later, but the thought of everyone else being privy to something I wasn’t made me anxious.

Is sharing the good stuff with me that bad?

If I’m warned about a hit, it hurts less when it strikes.

“Don’t just keep it to yourself, let me know too.”

Despite my continual questioning, the maid walked away kindly smiling, carrying her laundry basket without divulging anything. Her ambiguous chuckle as she headed to the laundry room was frustrating to a Korean like me who can’t stand unanswered questions.

It felt like I had forgotten something as I walked out the front door.

While I sent resentful glances toward the maid, who left me with this morning’s puzzle...

-Aaaaah!!! Air raid siren!

The lady had woken up.

***

Wiping her eyes upon waking, the lady looked at me from top to bottom, then bottom to top, scanning me up and down before nodding.

“I thought you were jerky.”

“Which part do you mean?”

“The red hair.”

“Do you want it?”

“Mm.”

Deciding on jerky as today’s snack, I handed over the honey water I had prepared in hopes of getting the lady to wake up more quickly.

Gulping it down, the lady looked at me again, sleep still lingering in her eyes. She stared intently at my face as if she saw something on it this time.

“Hmm...”

What?

“Hmm...”

The lady, propping her chin, observed me closely. Whether she noticed that I had not washed my face before coming to work, she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off my apparently handsome face.

“Is this your first time seeing a handsome man?”

“Blech.”

The lady clearly disliked the thought. What’s wrong with my face?

My wounded pride went unnoticed by everyone else, so I hit the sleepy lady on the forehead to vent my frustration.

“Ugh... why did you hit me!”

“Think of it as employee welfare.”

“Eeeek!!”

After apillowfight whereinpillowsflew about and the lady’s hair was left a mess, she patted the side of the bed.

“Ricardo. Come and sit here.”

The lady, whose bed was still unmade, commanded me to sit. After successfully hitting her with apillowin the just-concluded pillow fight, I obediently moved to her side without a word.

The lady gazed at my face seriously.

“Something’s weird.”

“What seems to be the problem?”

The lady fidgeted with my face.

She stretched it from side to side, then up and down, just like I playfully do with her face sometimes, but now she was sculpting my face as if it were clay.

Perhaps due to her drowsy eyes, the lady squished my cheeks like a fish and pulled my face closer to hers.

It was close.

Too close.

“What are you doing?”

The lady said to me,

“Ricardo.”

Her expression was slightly worried.

“Do you feel unwell?”

Taken aback by the unexpected question, I answered her with a dumbfounded look.

“I’m not sick. In fact, it’s a problem how healthy I am. Didn’t you see me throwingpillowsearlier?”

“Why the sudden question? I’m fine.”

Pondering why she would ask such a thing, I flexed my left arm, showing off my bulging biceps.

“Intimidating, isn’t it?”

The lady did not even pretend to listen.

She repeated with worried eyes,

“Your eyes look very tired. It’s as if you’d fall over with a slight touch.”

“My eyes?”

I turned to look at the dressing table beside the bed.

“Oh...”

Reflecting my face in the mirror, I saw a decadent visage with faint dark circles, probably a result of yesterday’s excessive sword practice.

Certainly, I looked like a sick person, but it wasn’t serious enough to worry the lady to the point of asking me if I had seen something strange at night.

It seemed to be the lady’s unwarranted concern following the bathhouse incident last time.

To alleviate her worries, I shook my head lightly and assured her,

“There’s nothing wrong.”

“Really?”

“Yes, in fact, I haven’t washed my face today.”

The lady then backed away a considerable distance.

“Ew... That’s disgusting.”

“My pockets are cleaner than yours.”

“My pockets are clean.”

The lady, taking pride in a strange aspect, came slowly back to my side after quickly washing her face with a wet towel. Grumbling, she dragged herself with her hand, which made my heart ache while being simultaneously adorable.

The lady took my hand.

A soft touch enveloped the back of my hand.

“Ricardo. You can’t get sick.”

“I’m healthy.”

“Still, you can’t get sick.”

The lady made eye contact.

With the same kind of tone a teacher from the orphanage would use when imploring, ‘Please, don’t punch your friend in the face and play nicely,’ the lady held my hand tightly and gave her earnest request.

“No ~Nоvеl??ght~ matter what happens, you shouldn’t get sick. I hate illness.”

She pleaded with me once more.

“Got it?”

I nodded my head.

***

I finished a late breakfast, roughly when the lady’s belly clock would normally ring again.

While I was brushing my teeth, the young lady said to me,

“Ricardo.”

“Please speak after I’m done brushing.”

“I don’t like it.”

The lady, spattering white foam, spoke. I wanted to flick her forehead, but today, she was being so commendably obedient that I held off.

She got up from the bed without dozing off again, didn’t eatchocolatebefore brushing, and even expressed concern that I shouldn’t get hurt.

The young lady’s accomplishments today went beyond remarkable to the point where I felt the need to unlock the hidden snack pantry just for her.

I paid keen attention to her words.

“Do you know what day it is today?”

“What, today?”

I pondered. It couldn’t be the lady’s birthday since that’s in winter, not the birthdays of the head of the household or the deputy head. So then...

“Is it your magic day?”

“Shut up!”

It had been a while since the young lady had sworn.

I asked the huffing lady,

“So what is today then?”

“You don’t know?”

“No, I really don’t.”

“Really don’t know?”

The young lady giggled, clearly knowing something significant.

It was rather strange to see the young lady, whose every birthday I knew, acting concerned about an anniversary. So she knew something and was possibly deceiving me...

Which was quite frightening.

The young lady spoke to me again,

“You really don’t know?”

“Yes...”

“Really. Really don’t know?”

“I’m telling you, let me know too...”

Lying down on the bed, the young lady burst into laughter, pounding on the mattress like a gleeful villain... well, she really was a villain.

Anyway, the lady looked at me with a blissful smile, her sparkling eyes staring at me, causing my ears to burn.

I said to the young lady,

“Lady, right on your chest.”

“What’s on my chest?”

“There...there...”

The frightfully bulging chest was smeared with white foam. The white foam that had splattered while she was brushing her teeth provoked some unholy thoughts.

The young lady nonchalantly wiped it away with her hand and put it into her mouth.

“What are you doing? That’s filthy!”

“It’s okay. It came from my mouth, so it’s clean.”

The young lady puffed out her chest with a satisfied expression. Really.

Seeing such a pleasant sight made me happy.

***

Late in the evening.

After finishing my sword practice in the yard, I wiped the sweat off my forehead.

“This should be enough.”

Numerous sword marks littered the ground, ranging from those the size of a pinky finger to ones large enough to fit a person.

Now accustomed to wielding the sword with my left hand, I let out the deep sigh I had been holding back.

‘This should hold me over until the next story.’

While I might not be up to Balak’s level, I could easily handle the likes of Pascal or Michail.

And perhaps my left hand, which goes for powerful, singular strikes rather than the precise strikes of my right hand, is even better.

My gaze fell to my right arm with a sense of longing.

The slight trembling in my right arm persisted. It didn’t seem like it would move easily.

It didn’t look like it would move again until my resistance to dark magic increased. Since it’s come to this, it’s a good opportunity to improve on my shortcomings.

If I overused my right hand like I did during the incident with Balak, even my healthy left hand might suffer aftereffects.

I hope there won’t be any significant events soon, but the upcoming event is Michail’s awakening, so I can’t just stand idly by.

Considering Michail is so talented, he’ll probably handle it himself, but because there’s always a chance for the unexpected, it seems best to be thoroughly prepared...

But what’s the use of worrying about it now?

I stood up and dusted myself off.

***

Before returning to the young lady,

I stopped by the room at the end of the second floor and began to unbutton my sweat-soakedshirt.

The dampshirtclung stickily to my body and was not easy to remove, but the sense of satisfaction from giving my all today was gratifying.

After removing the wet shirt, white bandages wrapped around my arm appeared in the mirror’s reflection.

The bandages started from the sleeve of my right arm up to my chest.

I chuckled, thinking of a character from a game I used to play in my past life.

The character, who would cry profusely while searching for a friend – was it Amumu? Anyway, it oddly reminded me of our young lady.

If I had compared the young lady to such a character, she would have denied it and likely thrown a fork at me.

The image of the young lady’s forlorn expression from being deprived ofchocolatesand the game character’s face crossed my mind, making me chuckle.

‘I’ll have to use that later.’

It was a childish prank, but when it came to teasing the young lady, age and such things didn’t come to mind.

Was it like aging backward?

“What a madman.”

I took a deep breath and slowly unwrapped the bandages.

Starting from the sleeve of my right arm over to the left side of my chest, I unwrapped the sweat-soaked bandages.

Slowly, scars began to reveal themselves.

Scars that looked like burn marks grotesquely distorting the skin of the back and chest, gradually showing the burst-open wounds.

There were scars dotted across my body that would make the young lady run away in disgust.

Especially the wound on my right arm, which was progressing towards black necrosis and weeping pus, was indeed a sight that furrowed the brow.

“It seems... better than yesterday...”

It didn’t hurt.

I occasionally felt a stinging pain as the necrosis progressed, but...

No, maybe I had just grown accustomed to it?

After a year of alternating between regeneration and necrosis, the pain had become a familiar experience.

“It really does look revolting.”

Looking in the mirror, I entertained a variety of thoughts.

From wondering what I would do if the young lady ran away at the sight of these scars to how I would conceal them in the future.

And what if the necrosis spread to my entire body?

“It’s daunting.”

The most troubling thought was what to do if the young lady discovered these scars.

If she found out, I couldn’t think of an appropriate response at the moment.

Should I just laugh it off?

Or should I just admit it honestly?

Most likely, when the time came, I’d say anything to avoid hurting the lady because she’s quite timid.

As I reached for the handle of thewardrobeto take out a newshirt, the memory slowly came back to me of what day today was.

The autumn of September when the maple leaves ripen.

Around this time, the young lady used to always say something to me.

“Happy Birthday.”

My birthday had passed by unnoticed last year because the young lady had fallen ill.

I let out a sardonic laugh.

“Right, today is my birthday.”

A foolish laughter escaped me.

All this while, unaware and having erroneously thought it was the young lady’s magic day.

Now I finally understood why the young lady and the maid had been acting so awkwardly since morning.

Just tell me earlier.

Again, I was the only one out of the loop.

I should quickly go and grumble to the young lady. Complain about why she was the only one who knew.

Given the young lady’s nature, once today passed and the clock struck midnight, she would definitely tease me for being a ‘fool.’

With that thought, I energetically swung open thewardrobedoor.

-Creeeak.

The closet opened easily without resistance.

“Is it broken?”

Normally, there should be a catch in the hinge, but thewardrobedoor opened without any resistance as if a slight breeze could blow it open.

I figured it must be broken. No one, apart from the maid, would enter my room.

Thinking it was not a big deal, I reached to get ashirtfrom the wardrobe when...

“Huh?”

The space where theshirtsshould have been was completely empty.

-Gasp...

And there, where one should not be, was a person staring back at me with eyes wide open.

“Ah... Miss?”

The young lady, wearing a conicalhaton her head and clutching a piece ofchocolatecake and a present wrapped in ornate paper to her chest,

“Ah...”

The young lady, with an expression as if her world had crumbled, uttered,

“Ah... if you’re hurt...”

Repeating the same phrase foolishly,

“If you’re hurt... that’s no good...”

I spat out a clumsy lie upon seeing the young lady on the verge of tears.

Hoping she would believe.

“Ah, that... I got it from falling over.”

“Don’t lie!!!”

This lie, it seemed, was not going to fool the young lady.