For a heartbeat, Nyx thought his mind was playing tricks on him.
The girl who stepped through the door wasn't a stranger. It was Serra. Cropped dark hair, stubborn chin, the same sharp eyes that had caught his in the pens. Now—cleaned up, dressed in a black-and-white maid uniform that actually fit her. But her posture… the way her gaze flicked to him and froze mid-step… it was the same Serra.
"Serra?"
His voice came out rougher than he expected. The name felt like it clawed its way out of his chest. Serra froze, hands curling into fists against her apron; her lips parted, but no sound came. Her eyes searched his face like she wasn't sure if he was real or just another cruel trick of memory.
"You… you're here?"
she finally managed, voice thin, betraying her own surprise. Her ears were flushed; clearly, this was embarrassing for her too.
Nyx wanted to say something clever, but all that slipped out was,
"Didn't expect you to be in a maid uniform."
It was half a tease, half disbelief. A faint, incredulous laugh escaped her—shaky, but hers.
Behind the desk, Caelia's voice cut through the charged silence, calm and sharp.
"You know each other."
It wasn't a question.
Nyx forced his gaze away from Serra.
"We… shared chains in the pens."
The words tasted strange now, here in all this luxury.
Caelia's gaze moved between them.
"Fitting. It will make your assignment easier."
Nyx's brows furrowed, the word tasting strange on his tongue.
„Assignment?"
"Serra is now your personal maid. Bought under my name, but assigned solely to you. She'll attend you directly, manage your day-to-day needs, and answer only to me and you. Every noble keeps at least one personal maid. You will have her."
Serra flinched slightly at the phrasing—bought under my name—but said nothing. Her eyes kept darting between Nyx and Caelia, wary but curious.
Yesterday, they'd shared chains. Today, cozy clothes. The world had a cruel sense of humor—and he wasn't sure yet if he was the punchline or the audience.
Nyx frowned.
"But I am no noble, not anymore at least."
His voice was half-defensive, half-bewildered.
"And the others? The maids from earlier?"
Caelia's tone didn't shift an inch.
"They remain household staff,"
Nyx crossed his arms loosely.
"That's… fine, I guess. But it still doesn't answer why I get a personal maid. I'm not exactly noble."
Caelia's gaze didn't so much as flicker. She simply continued, as if his objection was a leaf on the wind.
"They will serve you when needed, but Serra's loyalty and schedule are yours alone. She will be responsible for your well-being, your presentation, and—if necessary—your discretion."
Nyx huffed a quiet laugh.
"Sounds like a lot for one person."
A faint curve touched Caelia's lips.
"Then don't make her job harder than it has to be."
Her gaze shifted to Serra, sharp enough to cut glass.
"You know what is expected of a personal maid?"
Serra straightened instinctively.
"Yes, my lady. Complete obedience. Absolute discretion. His needs before my own."
Caelia's voice softened just enough to feel like silk over steel.
"You will not fail me."
Serra bowed her head.
"I won't."
Nyx shifted uncomfortably, not liking how this sounded like a leash on both of them.
"You're really going all in on this royalty treatment thing."
Caelia's eyes found his again.
"You're worth more than you think you are Nyx. It's time you start acting like it."
Something in her tone made his skin prickle—not just because of the words, but because she meant them.
Before he could respond, Serra spoke quietly, still looking at him.
"I thought… I thought you'd have been sold to someone worse. When they pulled you for the final call, I didn't think I'd see you again."
"Same,"
Nyx admitted.
"Guess we got lucky."
"Lucky."
Serra's lips twitched and nodded slightly
"That's a good word for it."
For the first time since the pens, the tightness in Nyx's chest eased just a fraction. He wasn't alone. And maybe, just maybe, this place wasn't going to crush him the way Earth had.
Caelia cleared her throat softly.
"You two can catch up later. For now, Serra, you'll show him to his rooms and explain the household rules. When you're done with that I would advice you to go to sleep, it's already pretty late."
Nyx's breath was still unsteady, his chest tight from the shock of seeing Serra again. He barely registered the other maids bowing, beginning to withdraw, when one of them hesitated at the doorway.
The girl with the soft blue hair and nervous hands lingered. Her fingers twisted the hem of her apron like she was wrestling with her own courage.
"Um… Y-Young Master?"
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
Nyx blinked, pulling himself from the haze.
She dropped her gaze, a faint blush rising to her cheeks.
"I-I know Lady Caelia has assigned Serra as your personal maid. And that's right, of course—she's strong and capable in ways I might not be. But…"
She paused, biting her lip as if the next words cost her.
"I'd still like to stay by your side. If you'll let me."
Nyx tilted his head, curious.
"Why?"
Her fingers stilled. When she looked up, her eyes held no calculation, only an unsteady, honest warmth.
"Not because Lady Caelia told us to serve you. But because I want to. I want to help you, even in small ways. To make things easier for you… if you'd allow it."
For a moment, Nyx said nothing. The earnestness in her words landed somewhere deep, in a place that remembered too well what it was like to wish anyone would choose to stay, not out of duty but out of their own will.
"What's your name?"
he asked at last.
"Selene."
she said softly.
Something about the way she said it made him smile despite himself.
"Sele, huh? Cute name."
Her blush deepened, but there was a little light in her smile now.
"If it's alright… even if Serra handles most of your needs, I'd like to be here too. To help however you need me. To be someone you can count on."
There was no demand in her tone. Just a quiet hope.
Nyx gave a small nod.
"I don't see a reason why you shouldn't. If you really want that, then stay."
Sele's smile bloomed—soft and bright, not the kind that demanded attention, but the kind that felt like a lantern lit in a dark room.
"Thank you, Young Master!"
Serra's eyes flicked to Sele briefly. No protest. Maybe even a small, knowing nod, as if she'd already guessed the girl wouldn't let herself be sent away.
Caelia didn't object either; her voice was even a bit warm:
"As long as you both perform your duties, I have no issue."
And just like that, Nyx found himself with not one but two people who had chosen to stand at his side. For someone who'd had nothing for so long, the weight of that was almost dizzying.
"If it's alright, I'd like to head to my room now,"
Nyx said, rubbing the back of his neck.
"Today was… more than enough. I could really use some rest."
Caelia inclined her head in acknowledgment.
"Serra. Selene. Take him to his quarters."
Both girls bowed.
"Yes, my lady."
The walk was quiet, save for the muffled echo of their steps along polished floors. When they stopped, Nyx stared at the door in front of him—and then past it, when Serra pushed it open.
His breath caught.
The room was really large. Moonlight spilled through tall windows framed in heavy curtains, glinting off a bed big enough to lose yourself in, a chandelier humming faintly with enchanted light, and furniture carved from wood so rich it looked alive. A faint, clean scent of lavender and polished stone hung in the air.
He'd joked earlier about being treated above his standing. This wasn't above—it was another universe.
"Are you… sure this is my room?"
he asked finally, voice unsteady.
Serra shrugged lightly, lips quirking.
"It is. Before I was called to the study, they showed me everything I need to know to serve you properly. This is where you'll stay."
Nyx gaped.
"So I'm really staying in the master bedroom…"
"You are,"
Selene said softly, almost like she enjoyed his shock.
They both wished him good night and slipped out with a bow, leaving Nyx rooted in place, still staring at the opulent space like it might vanish if he blinked.
It took him several long minutes before his legs obeyed and carried him over the threshold. Even then, he felt like an intruder in someone else's dream.
Nyx sank onto the vast bed, a marionette with its strings severed. The day's weight crashed down on him, demanding sleep — yet his eyes stayed open.
It was finally time to look at his soul.