Some time later, Michael found himself listening to the teachings of the Madame as she took Melody through her piano lesson. The young girl was rather advanced, but it was clear the gap between her and the teacher was quite considerable.
Each note she played—while accurate, lacked the same grace of her teacher.
Of course Michael wasn't surprised.
Time passed slowly as he took up post nearby. He shifted his weight from one foot to another, feeling a sense of discomfort from standing so long.
"Young Michael, could you fetch us some tea?" Madame Wright's sing-song voice crooned, getting his attention.
"Of course," Michael replied, thankful for the task.
He walked to the kitchen's to brew a batch of tea, making use of his rudimentary chore magic to heat the pot of water. With his higher quality mana, the water was boiled much quicker than he was used to.
His mind wandered as he saw the water bubble, overflowing from the ceramic pot.
I need to learn more about magic…
Magic had always interested him, especially when he was a young child. But he had been doomed to never experience its wonders, given only the weakest power available to a mage.
Michael had thought he'd accepted his fate—accepted his weakness—but upon receiving a second chance, he realized that this was not true. Only after ascending did his true feelings surface.
He felt a bitter taste in his mouth. The person who he most wanted to share his newfound power with was his mother, the only one who had truly understood him. But this was now impossible.
While he was treated well in the Winterborne estate, no one could learn his real identity—or most importantly of all—the fact that he used to be the weakest white-ringed mage.
Michael wasn't dumb, he knew that the biggest reason for his current treatment was his so-called potential. Sure, the lord and lady were kind, but would their kindness extend this far if he still possessed a single white ring?
The answer was obvious.
Nobles—even the virtuous ones—had their own intentions. When they did something, it was always measured with benefits in mind. Michael knew this all too well.
The Lord Winterborne was no different. In their first interaction over dinner, he had offered Michael a place within his family, essentially offering to adopt him, with the intention of grooming him to be a successor.
The man needed an heir, a male with strength to consolidate the family's power.
In the noble circle, no matter how strong the women of the house, it was still a patriarchal society. Women were married into other noble houses, not the other way around.
So when Michael had refused his offer, the lord and lady had scrambled to come up with other ideas, eventually offering him work and a place to stay. It might have sounded virtuous on the surface, but when Michael considered his newest assignment as Melody's personal butler, he had begun to have some doubts.
Melody's attitude has completely changed from the other day. There's no way that they aren't planning something, he thought silently.
He remembered the question Madame Wright had posed, asking if they were betrothed. While it might have sounded like a playful jab, Melody's reaction was unexpected.
The old her would have likely turned her nose up and denied it with anger.
Is that what they're planning? To marry me into the family through Melody?
It made sense.
Since he was no longer a noble, Michael did not have an established family name or household—at least by noble society's standards. If he were to marry Melody, he would need to marry into the Winterborne house.
The Lord would get his wish of securing a powerful mage, and still get to keep his daughter in the house.
The revelation of this theory sent a shiver down his spine.
How could I have been so stupid? Michael scolded himself, his hands clenching into fists.
Back at the Aurelius household, he was too weak and insignificant to be used as a pawn. But that didn't mean he wasn't aware of the moves that were being made both in the light and the shadows.
His weakness also meant that he was not perceived as a threat. Ironically, the one thing he had lamented through his life had ended up saving him.
"I think the water is boiled," a feminine voice called, dancing with amusement.
Michael flinched, his head turning, "Ah, yes. Forgive me, Madame, I was daydreaming," he admitted, apologizing.
"It's no matter," she said dismissively, her footsteps drawing nearer. "I haven't seen you around the estate before, are you newly employed?"
"Yes, I was fortunate enough to be taken in by the lord and lady." Michael said, collecting the pot and teacups, placing them onto a wooden tray.
"Mmm, Mary and Brian are very kind, you're quite lucky," she added. "Miss Melody seems to have taken a shine to you as well," her voice was laced with a hint of teasing, her intentions obvious.
If it was before his revelation, Michael might have felt slightly embarrassed, but not now. He simply turned and gave her a small smile, "Shall we have tea in the garden?"
"Sure," Madame Wright replied, "but wait a moment."
The woman leaned over and grabbed a ceramic pot, placing it upon his tray, "Melody has quite a sweet tooth, its better to bring the sugar cubes along."
"I'll keep that in mind for the future."
The two returned to see the young girl playing a piece, the sheet music propped up in front of her. The strokes sounded a little mechanical, but it was still quite pleasant.
Upon their arrival, she turned, her blue eyes only briefly meeting Michael's before she looked away evasively. The sight only strengthened his worries that his theory was correct.
After setting the wooden tray upon the outdoor table, Michael worked on steeping the tea leaves, but his mind was distracted. It was only after hearing the music stop that he finally remembered what he was doing.
He poured the tea in two separate cups as Melody and Madame Wright sat down before standing to the side as a butler should.
Madame Wright was the first to sip her tea, wearing an impassive expression. But Michael noticed her lips twitch before she placed it back down.
Melody on the other hand, placed six sugar cubes in her tea, one after the other, making even Michael stare incredulously. The girl then gracefully lifted the cup to her mouth to taste.
"PFFFT"
The tea was spat straight out as a disgusted expression morphed onto her face.
Here it comes…
Michael watched her carefully, waiting for her anger. However, after a few moments, it still didn't come. The girl sat her cup down silently before collecting a napkin and dabbing it at her rosy lips.
Seeing this, Michael frowned.
"Was the tea not to your liking Melody?" he asked, wearing a feigned concern.
"I-It's fine… Just a little bitter." She replied meekly.
Just this reaction and response was enough to know that whatever plans the lord and lady had, Melody was in on. Michael's heart hardened before he walked up to the table and collected the tea.
"My apologies, it seems that I steeped the tea for too long. I'll make a fresh batch," he said, swiftly leaving the area.