Michael continued to accompany Melody throughout the day, attending to her needs which were surprisingly very few. The girl hardly spoke to him, though he would catch her stealing a glance at him every now and then.
He had been observing quietly from the side, never speaking more than he was required to, gauging Melody's behavior. With his new introspection, he was far more critical than before.
It was almost impossible to reconcile the conceived temperament of the young miss with what he'd heard from Esther, her previous personal maid. The poor woman had looked haggard, and had even given him a bundle of parchments she'd dubbed as 'Rules for Melody'.
Which meant that her behavior had indeed changed. But whether it was a result of her feelings towards him, or an agenda pushed by her parents, it remained to be uncertain.
After dinner, Michael bid his farewell to Melody and was replaced by a maid. Since they were of the opposite sex, it made sense for a woman to take over at night.
Now free of his duties for the day, Michael returned to the servants quarters, fixing himself a plate of food before heading back to his room. Despite the warm reception he received from the other servants, he wasn't in the mood to socialize.
As the scent of braised meat greeted his nose, his stomach stirred. All his thoughts temporarily disappeared as Michael gave in to his hunger, savoring the delicious flavors of the hearty stew.
The stew was no match for his appetite, promptly being devoured despite his mood.
He sat back in his chair silently, wearing an expression that spoke of his worry and exhaustion. One might not think that such a young boy would be capable of looking like this, but Michael was conflicted.
It was true that his emotions had been a whirlwind since arriving at Whitevalley town. From the relief of escaping the wilderness, to waking up in the Winterborne estate and being offered a place to stay.
Everything had happened so quick.
Now with the added pressure and agenda behind his new appointment as Melody's personal butler, it filled him with worry.
This was the first time that he had been directly involved with noble politics, but he could safely say, it wasn't pleasant. Of course this was only the case if his deductions were proved true.
But judging from all the available facts, he was quite confident in his judgment.
Is it that bad though? Michael asked himself, tapping on the desk in front of him, deep in thought.
All things considered, even if the Winterborne's had an agenda, neither their goal, nor their means were cruel. Not only had they given Michael a job that pays well, they also planned on tutoring him and even sponsoring him to attend Arcadia Academy.
If it were a transactional arrangement rather than a hidden machination, would he have also reacted like this?
As Michael asked himself this question, he realized quickly that it was not such a bad deal. Perhaps what had really affected him was that the lord and lady had been secretive of their intentions.
But this was clearly how nobles operated. Political marriages were often veiled behind flowery lies, aimed to make those involved feel better about the situation. In essence, it was just a means to an end.
Michael let out a long sigh, a small chuckle escaping his lips.
He had thought that he was no longer naive, but it was clear that he was wrong. Originally, the lord and lady seemed like benevolent people, almost saint-like. While it had put him on guard initially, he wanted to believe there were people like this, people like his mother.
There's no one else like mom… he concluded, a small sense of satisfaction rising from within.
Now that he thought of it, the revelation that these two nobles were not so benevolent actually made him more at ease. Since he now knew their goal, he wouldn't need to always be on guard.
And when he considered their goal of marrying him into their family, Michael wasn't exactly opposed to it. Disregarding the fact Melody would be his wife, the Winterborne's had significant power, resources and connections.
If Michael wanted to track down his mother's killers, he would need all three of these things. So essentially, their goals happened to align with his own—at least for now.
Michael leaned back in his chair, his eyes moving up to the tall ceiling. Having time to reflect on everything had allowed him to compile his thoughts, making him feel far less stifled.
Even if they plan to marry me into the family, we'll see how things turn out eventually Michael thought, his gaze hardening, If for some reason our goals cease to align…
He didn't complete his thought before a knock at the door startled him.
"Come in," he called, standing up from his chair.
The door was opened and a familiar figure appeared dressed in a black suit and bow tie, a polished cane grasped tightly in one hand. His hazel eyes seemed tired, and his skin even paler than usual.
"Charles, what brings you here? I thought you were still recovering?" Michael asked politely.
The young man nodded, wearing a weak smile, "I am, but I should be fine in a few days," he admitted, stepping forward. Charles waved his hand and a green book suddenly appeared in his hand, which he held out towards Michael.
A storage ring!? Michael's eyes flashed towards the outstretched hand, seeing the faint resplendence of the otherwise ordinary looking ring.
"This book is filled with mana control theory, I want you to study it before our tutoring sessions resume." Charles stated, his gaze turning serious, "be careful… If there is anything that you don't understand, do not attempt it without my supervision."
Michael heard the warning loud and clear, and after what had happened last time, he wasn't about to argue. After reassuring his tutor that he would study hard, the guy was about to leave.
"Wait, can you tell me about storage rings?" he asked, trying not to sound too desperate.
"Hmm? I guess so," Charles replied, slightly taken aback. "Tell me what it is you wish to know."