Chapter 8
[Embercrown 14th (8/14), Year 1356 of the Arcane Calendar] | 5:00 AM |
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[ Valco city, castle, servants wing ]
In a room large enough for one person yet kept neat and tidy, a man in his early 20s lay asleep on a simple bed. Sunlight slowly crept in through a window above his head, casting a warm golden glow that danced softly across the wooden floor and illuminated the room with a gentle, honeyed warmth.
Beep... Beep...
His eyes snapped open, and he sat up straight, reaching for the alarm clock on a desk to his right. He rubbed his eyes with his right hand near his nose, then got up, folded his blanket, and turned to grab a towel and toothbrush from a closet before heading out.
As he walked, several cases fell on him, but his confident attitude and charming looks stood out. With chocolate brown hair and pearl blue eyes, he looked more like a person of high status than a mere butler.
Whispers like, "Who is that? Is he lost? He looks like a noble, but what about his clothes—is he not one?" came from a maid.
Another girl whispered, "I heard a few knights, and two servants arrived yesterday; he must be with them. He's so handsome—should I go talk to him?" The two girls followed behind, heading the same way, and their soft voices carried to him, which was unusual for most people to hear.
Charles didn't mind their words much and didn't care about their opinions. He gave the maids a cold look, and their gazes dropped as they fell silent while he continued walking.
He wasn't comfortable with many people staring at him. He felt a little sad for the girls but found it easier to push them away than explain himself—this kept most people from bothering him. Sometimes, though, this backfired, drawing more attention, some out of anger at his cold attitude, even though he was just a butler.
The daily life of a butler begins with a simple yet disciplined routine, as he draws a bucket of water and enters the communal bathroom designated for the male staff.
In a small, compact room designed for personal baths, the man washes his body, tracing a hand along his back as memories of the stares he once endured resurface, making him to instinctively check for a scar that has long since healed.
Shaking off those thoughts, he pours another mug of water with a gentle splash; the cool sensation invigorates his skin, sharpening his focus as he mentally prepares himself for the demands of the day ahead.
Dressed in formal butler attire, exuding a composed and professional presence, his movements are deliberate and assured. Charles enters the kitchen with a steady demeanor, introducing himself to the servants working there and politely requesting permission to prepare his master's morning tea with a respectful nod.
By nature, he is not antisocial, making a brief yet warm connection by shaking hands. With this interaction concluded, he turns his attention to the task at hand, beginning the preparation of the tea with meticulous care and precision, ensuring every detail meets the highest standards.
Checking his pocket watch, he completed the tea preparation and took his leave from the kitchen, proceeding toward the noble quarters.
Knock... knock...
Receiving no response, he carefully pushed the door open with his left hand, making sure not to spill the tea in his other hand.
Swoosh...
Sliding the curtains to the side ,walking up to the young master he removed the sheets covering him a smile involuntarily making its way across his face as he looked at the sleeping man "its morning master I have prepared your tea."
Mghh...
"Good morning, Charles the boy said letting out a yawn ."
The two continued their talk till.
Creak...
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Ring... ring...
"Nooo... I don't want to get up, haaaaaa," she groaned softly.
Rolling to the left to rise, she accidentally bumped into the wall, her head striking it, and she let out a small, pained whimper. "Ow, that hurts," she murmured, gently rubbing the spot where she hit the wall.
Stepping out of bed in her white nightgown, she yawned as she approached the alarm. She picked it up, stopped the ringing, and placed it beside her on the bed before lying back down. Turning her face to the right to check the time, her pupils contracted as she squinted to focus on the hour hand, which stayed between six and seven.
"Hmmm, six, hub," she whispered, resting her head and gazing at the ceiling with her eyes closed. After two seconds, a bead of sweat formed; she opened her eyes in sudden worry and glanced at the time again—it was
[ 6:25 AM ]
Rising quickly, she yanked the closet door open, her anxiety pouring out. "No, no, no, I overslept," she thought, fighting back tears. "I swear I set the alarm for 5:20."
Gathering her essential items with haste, she left the room.
Rushing through a quick brush and bath, she hurried to prepare herself, nearly stumbling along the way. As she emerged, the other maids couldn't help but stifle giggles at her wild bed hair, sticking out in every direction like a bird's nest.
One maid whispered loudly to the others, "Goodness, who is that? Did she just wake up? It's nearly half past 6—did the chickens oversleep too?" Anna's face flushed bright red with embarrassment, and she tugged at her hair, trying to smooth it down as she scurried off, mortified.
She then had a quick brush and bath to freshen up, then put on her maid uniform fast. She smoothed the fabric to feel calm again before walking to her young master's rooms.
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"Charles, how was the room? Was it comfortable ?"
Charles responded, "The room was big enough and neat. The bed was okay, and the sunlight made it warm."
"Good."I reached out my hand to him asking for the tea.
Creak...
"Good morning, young master," a voice entered my ear.
"It looks like you slept too well, Anna."
Scratching her cheeks in embarrassment, she let out a low chuckle and removed the sheets.
"Honestly, I wasn't expecting you two to come in the morning.
It's okay to rest while you're here—just relax. I will ask the uncle to arrange some servants to assist me while you're here."
After a brief silence, a sad expression became evident, not on his face but in his eyes, which I could tell.
At times, Charles exhibited excessive protectiveness; in that sense, Anna proved easier to manage.
"Fine, my final order: you can tend to my needs every morning, but you must take a break from the afternoon onwards. If I need your help, I will call for you."
They both nodded in understanding.
After a few minutes, both of them left the room.
"Kzz, it should shh... be mor- kzz stable."
"Yeah, it's better, but it's been a while since you spoke. In a serious voice, it's about you—explain who you are."
"Kzz, if I speak shhh... too much, your kzz body won't handle it, kzz... I can pull you in kzz soon, shh. Just wa-."
Haaa, what is this thing? What did it mean by pulling me in? He probably knows why I'm here.
"I guess I can wait as long as I get the answers I need."
Putting my hand in my pocket, I pulled out a piece of paper.
Letting out a deep sigh, I hoped it was just a dream, tucking the paper back into my pocket.
How the hell am I supposed to deliver these to her now?
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[ Valco city, castle, hallway]
As Charles and Anna walked down the hallway, Anna asked, her eyes fixed on the marble floor, "So, umm... How was your morning? Did you meet any friends? Recognize anyone from before visits? Or..." cough cough... "Anyone you're i...in-ter-es-ted in?"
Charles reflected on the events, recalling that he had never actively sought to make friends but had instead formed connections—more akin to acquaintances. Observing Anna, he adjusted his pace to align with hers, slowing down slightly.
"It's tough to get to know new people," he said with a faint smile, though his eyes darkened as they caught sight of the servants nearby. The more servants he noticed, the deeper his gaze grew, fragments of recognition stirring within him. Inner voices resurfaced—the echoes of torment from his days as a slave—casting a shadow over his expression.
Glancing at the people walking alongside them, including Anna, he turned to look behind and saw more individuals. He continued, "Tough to look at them, tough to trust them."
Pant... pant... pant...
Anna turned to him, concern evident on her face as Charles began to hyperventilate.
As the memories and sensations intensified within him, his breathing grew increasingly labored. Anna finally noticed his distress and asked, her voice filled with worry, "What happened to you?" She observed his sweating brow and, undeterred, gently stopped him, pressing further, "What's happening to you?"
His breaths became even heavier as the servants around them began to take notice, murmuring among themselves: "Why is he so restless? Is he a beast? Why is he acting so strangely?"
More words escaped him, this time in murmurs. Charles gripped his right sleeve, his right hand clutching his hair, pressing and pulling at it. "Tough to believe them, huff... tough to accept them, pant pant..."
"What's wrong with him? Is he mentally challenged?" remarked a person in the distance.
Memories creeped in "Stop, please," Charles whispered.
"Oh, it's him. Yesterday, a few servants came from another family. I heard there was a butler among them," another voice added.
"I'm sorry, please stop... please"
Whip... Whip... Whip...
"Yeah, I heard he was a pretty cocky one. I do admit he has good looks, but that's all. I guess he's just a mental guy," someone commented.
"Don't hit me... I'll clean up the puke, please stop," Charles murmured.
Suddenly, one person noticed a scar on the back of Charles's neck and murmured, "Could he be a slave?"
Whip... Ahh, this is the real nature of humans, a thought flashed through Charles's mind. I should have just died with my family. Humans are ugly—people may shine on the outside, but darkness is always there, lurking within them.
"Stop!"
The voice was not from his memories but from the present, belonging to one of the few people who gave him reason to live in this harsh reality.
Drip… drip…
"Shut up, all of you!" Anna shouted, her anger clearly etched on her face, though her emotions overwhelmed her enough to let a few tears escape.
"What?" a voice asked.
Regaining control over her mouth, Anna vented her frustration.
"Just go, he's in trouble right now," she said firmly. Most of the servants dispersed to their tasks, but a few lingered, Another person advised,
"Let it go—stop disturbing them," a man with dark green hair suggested, his tone serious and laced with genuine concern.
"Was he once a slave?" a girl questioned in a judgmental tone.
Charles's grip on his hair tightened slightly as Anna turned to them, her voice steady, "So what? Do you have any issues with that?
This bitch! a girl remarked what's with your tone your just servants like us walking up to anna about to lap her.
Her eyes closed involuntarily, bracing for a strong slap, but to her Suprise she felt nothing.
When she opened them, she saw the woman's face, pale and contorted with fear as if she had encountered a ghost. Using the opportunity, she grabbed Charles by the hand and hurriedly left.
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Gulp...
"Thank you, Anna, I'm fine now," Charles said, holding a glass of water interlocked between his hands as he sat down on a bench.
"Don't mind what they say, they're just trash," Anna replied proudly, her gaze filled with concern as she looked at Charles.
"I'm pathetic, aren't I, Anna?" he said, looking up at her with tears forming. "I never get better," he added, his voice cracking.
Anna approached him, enveloping him in a hug. "There is nothing wrong with you," she assured gently brushing his hair.
Charles, losing control, began to tear up, his voice muffled against Anna's dress.
After a few minutes, Charles regained his composure and realized where his face was pressed, a blush spreading across his cheeks. He explained to Anna that he was fine now, but she remained still, saying, "It's okay, let it out, don't worry."
"No, Anna, I'm good now, really—umm, my face is, uh, against your, uh..." he stammered.
Looking down, Anna suddenly understood her position and quickly let go, her own cheeks flushing with embarrassment.
"Charles, go rest up for today. I'll get something from the city—tell me your favorite food," she suggested.
Charles began to nod in understanding but paused midway. Normally, he would agree, especially after these rare trauma episodes, preferring to avoid others until he recovered. However, for the first time, he felt reluctant to leave someone's side.
"I will come with you," he said.
"What? No, you should rest. If it's because of what the master said, I'll just explain what happened or make up an excuse that you were sick to avoid worrying him," Anna replied.
"No, it's not that. I want to go with you, please, Anna. This is the first time I want to stay beside someone, even when my trauma has resurfaced. I want to get better; I need to," he insisted.
After a moment of deep thought, Anna relented. "Fine, but if you feel anything off, we're going back immediately."
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[ Valco city, castle, servants wing ]
| 6:30 PM |
Knock knock...
As Zen entered the head butler's cabin, guided by a fellow servant who had instructed him to meet Mr. Vin, a faint creak sounded under his feet on the wooden floor. The room was shrouded in darkness, pierced only by the soft glow of a candle, its warm wax scent mingling with the crisp air that brushed against him as he stepped inside. He opened the door fully, revealing the dimly lit space, and was surprised to hear the head butler's voice.
"You called for me?, Mr. Vin, how can I help you?"
Looking at Zen, Mr. Vin, the head butler, glanced to the left, revealing another man seated on a couch—"Who is he? I didn't even realize he was there." The head butler turned to this individual and asked, "Is this the person you wanted, Mr. Lunthaler?"
Confused by the head butler's use of honorifics, a sudden realization struck Zen like a light bulb illuminating his mind—the man before him was a noble.
"Yes"
Crap, what did I do? Did I mess up? But I didn't do anything wrong today, thoughts raced through Zen's mind.
"Just follow me," said the young man, his eyes cold and dark, devoid of any compassion, though a faint, unsettling smile curved his lips. "I need your help identifying some pigs."