By the time Riser made it back to his room, he was fairly sure his body had developed opinions about him.
None of them were flattering.
His arms felt heavy in a distant, treacherous way, like they belonged to someone else and deeply resented being dragged around. His legs were better only in the sense that they had stopped threatening immediate collapse. His shoulder, thankfully, had recovered enough under Phenex regeneration not to be a problem anymore, but a dull ache still sat in the muscles around it, an unmistakable reminder that he had overdone it.
Which, in hindsight, meant the training had probably been worth something.
That did not make walking up the last stretch of corridor any less miserable.
He pushed open the door to his room, stepped inside, and stopped.
Yubelluna was already there.
She stood by the low table near the window, arranging a tray with the kind of calm, effortless precision that made it look as though the room had been waiting for her rather than the other way around. Steam curled faintly from a covered dish. There was tea, a pitcher of cool water, sliced fruit, bread, and something that smelled warm and savory enough to make Riser realize he was starving.
She glanced up when he entered.
Then her eyes narrowed by the slightest amount.
"You took longer than expected, young master."
Riser shut the door behind him. "That sounds suspiciously like criticism."
"It is observation."
"Mm. That sounds like criticism dressed better."
Yubelluna's expression remained perfectly composed, but he had the distinct impression she was only barely tolerating him.
Which, considering some of his previous behavior—both the old Riser's and his own system-driven disasters—was more than fair.
He moved toward the table and sat down more carefully than dignity would have preferred.
Yubelluna noticed.
Of course she noticed.
Her gaze flicked down once, quick and precise, taking in the way he lowered himself, the stiffness in his arms, the slight hesitation in his shoulders.
"…You injured yourself."
"Not badly."
"That was not my question."
Riser reached for the water pitcher to buy himself a second.
That was the problem with capable servants. They heard what you said, but they also noticed the part you were trying not to say.
"I strained a shoulder," he admitted. "It's mostly healed."
"Mostly."
"Mostly."
Yubelluna folded her hands neatly in front of her. "You are training as if you are trying to make up for years in a single morning."
Riser poured water into a glass and took a long drink before answering.
"That's because I am."
There was no dramatic weight in the words. He didn't mean to put any there. But the moment they left his mouth, the room seemed to go still anyway.
Yubelluna stared at him.
And there it was again—that look she had been giving him since he started changing. Not fear. Not distrust, exactly. Not even simple confusion.
More like she was trying to solve a puzzle and resented the fact that the pieces kept rearranging themselves when she wasn't looking.
Riser, unfortunately, was tired enough to find that expression strangely amusing.
So naturally, he made the mistake of speaking again.
"What?" he asked, reaching for the bread. "You're looking at me like I grew a second head."
Yubelluna did not miss a beat.
"If that happened, young master, I would have informed the physician before now."
Riser blinked.
Then, against his will, laughed.
It wasn't elegant. It was short, surprised, and far too genuine.
Yubelluna seemed just as surprised by it as he was.
That made him laugh a little harder.
"Well," he said, taking the chance to hide his expression behind the rim of his glass, "good to know the household is prepared for that possibility."
"There are many dangers in noble houses," she said smoothly. "One should not be careless."
That almost sounded like teasing.
Almost.
Riser looked at her over the glass and caught the faintest hint of satisfaction in her eyes—there and gone so quickly he might have imagined it.
No, not imagined.
Noticed.
Interesting.
He set the glass down and uncovered the main dish. The smell hit him immediately, rich and warm and unfairly comforting. Some kind of roasted meat with herbs, probably tailored for a devil appetite but light enough for post-training recovery. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until that exact second.
Yubelluna, naturally, noticed that too.
"You should eat before it cools."
"Yes, ma'am."
He took one bite.
Then another.
And another after that, with none of the refinement expected of a devil noble and all the concentration of a man discovering religion for the first time through food.
For several blissful moments, the room was quiet except for the sounds of cutlery and the low crackle of distant fire outside the window.
Then Yubelluna asked, "Why now?"
Riser glanced up.
She clarified, "This change."
Straightforward. No ornament around it.
That was probably better.
He leaned back slightly in the chair and considered the question.
There were lies available to him. Easy ones, too. Noble obligation. Sudden inspiration. A lecture from his father echoing belatedly in his conscience.
But none of those fit.
And for some reason—maybe because she had brought him food without being asked, maybe because she had watched him nearly collapse in the training yard and was still here anyway—he didn't want to answer her with something cheap.
"I realized I was weak," he said at last.
Yubelluna was silent.
Riser glanced at his own hand where it rested against the table. "Not just weaker than I want to be. Weak in a way that would eventually matter."
He let out a slow breath through his nose.
"There are people in this world who won't care that I'm a Phenex. Or a noble. Or someone's son. If I stand in front of them as I am now…" He gave a small, humorless smile. "Then I lose."
The words felt oddly clean once spoken aloud.
Yubelluna studied him in that same unnervingly attentive way of hers.
Then, after a pause, she said, "You sound as though you have already chosen an enemy."
That made his mouth twitch.
If only she knew.
"Something like that."
"I see."
She didn't push further.
That, more than anything, made him look at her.
There was restraint in that choice. Intelligence. She was curious, clearly. But not careless with it.
No wonder her loyalty mattered.
No wonder the system had targeted her specifically.
The thought arrived at the exact wrong time, because the system promptly chimed.
[Social target present.][Recommendation: Improve interaction quality.]
Riser nearly choked on the next bite of food.
He coughed once, covered it badly, then reached for the water while trying not to glare directly at thin air in front of Yubelluna.
Of course.
Of course it would prompt him now.
He could feel the social quest sitting in the back of his mind like a loaded trap.
Raise Yubelluna's loyalty.
Not through force. Not through the family name. Not by issuing some absurd order and pretending that counted.
The problem was that he had no idea how to do this normally.
He knew how to strategize.
He knew how to make plans around future canon events.
He knew how to terrify himself with the thought of Issei Hyoudou.
What he did not know how to do was smoothly build trust with an intelligent, observant, attractive maid who had every reason to be cautious around him.
Still tired, still sore, and still not fully in command of his own judgment, Riser decided to attempt charm.
This was a mistake.
He set the cup down carefully and looked at her.
"Yubelluna."
"Yes, young master?"
He paused.
Already bad.
The words he had intended to say—something light, measured, probably appreciative—vanished entirely.
What came out instead was, "You're very reliable."
The silence that followed was so immediate and complete that it became physically embarrassing.
Riser felt it in his spine.
Yubelluna blinked once.
Then twice.
"…Thank you?"
It came out like a question.
Wonderful.
Absolutely flawless.
Riser stared at the table with the stillness of a man realizing he should perhaps be buried under it.
In his defense, he had meant it. That was part of the problem. Sincere things were harder to say elegantly when he actually meant them.
He cleared his throat.
"I mean—" Worse. Somehow already worse. "You're competent. And careful. And you've been… helpful."
Every word made it more awkward.
Astonishing.
He had found a way to turn gratitude into a hostage situation.
Across from him, Yubelluna had gone very still. Not offended, exactly. Not pleased either.
Just visibly uncertain what to do with this version of him.
At last she said, "I am your servant, young master. It is natural."
That should have ended it.
Instead, because this was apparently the morning fate had decided to humiliate him in all categories, Riser heard himself say, "No. It isn't."
Her eyes lifted to his.
He hadn't meant to put that much weight into it.
But now that it was there, he couldn't pull it back.
"Obedience is natural," he said more quietly. "Competence is expected. But loyalty isn't the same thing as either. And being looked after by someone capable isn't something I'm trying to take for granted anymore."
There.
That had come out right.
Or at least, less catastrophically wrong.
Yubelluna said nothing for a few seconds.
Then she lowered her gaze, but not before he caught the flicker of something in it. Surprise, perhaps. Or uncertainty bent in a more thoughtful direction.
When she spoke again, her voice was composed, though slightly softer than before.
"You are different lately, young master."
"Yes," Riser said. "I've heard."
"Not from others."
The reply was so immediate it caught him off guard.
He tilted his head. "No?"
"No." She adjusted the edge of the tray with unnecessary precision. "Only from observation."
He watched her for a moment, then exhaled a little laugh.
"Well. I apologize for making your observations inconvenient."
That, finally, earned him the smallest actual smile.
Very small.
Gone quickly.
But real.
And right on cue, the system chimed again.
[Yubelluna — Loyalty: 63][Status: Confused → Attentive]
Riser nearly shut his eyes in relief.
Three points.
Three.
Ridiculous that such a tiny number could feel like progress, but there it was.
The system, naturally, could not let him enjoy it for long.
[Host's charm attempt evaluated.][Result: Clumsy, but unexpectedly effective.]
He kept his expression perfectly blank.
Yubelluna noticed anyway.
"Is something wrong?"
"Profoundly," Riser said.
Her brow creased. "Young master?"
"Nothing fatal." He looked down at the rest of the food, then back up at her. "Stay."
The word came out before he had fully thought through it.
Yubelluna paused.
Then, carefully, "You wish for me to remain?"
He nodded once.
"You brought the food. You can at least sit long enough to make sure I don't die eating it."
A beat passed.
Then another.
And to his mild surprise, Yubelluna obeyed—not by kneeling in formal attendance, but by taking a seat at the far side of the table with graceful caution, like someone stepping onto unfamiliar ground to test whether it would hold.
Riser picked up his fork again.
The room settled around them.
It wasn't comfortable exactly.
Not yet.
But it wasn't cold either.
And as the silence stretched into something less brittle, Riser found himself thinking that maybe this was how it started—not with grand gestures or perfect lines, but with surviving the awkward parts without pretending they hadn't happened.
He took another bite, trying not to look too pleased with that thought.
Across from him, Yubelluna sat with her hands folded in her lap, posture impeccable, expression composed.
But she hadn't left.
For now, that was enough.