"Good night and sweet dreams, my dear…"
The nearly two-hour-long call ended with a "toot."
In the dimly lit room, as the brilliance from the phone screen died down, Julien sat there motionless, his expression unreadable. Meanwhile, Mario, although masked, seemed to have a lot to say as his limbs swayed here and there, never staying still for even a fraction of a second.
As expected, when he could no longer suppress the itch in his throat, Mario finally opened his mouth, his purpose none other than to incite trouble.
"Sir, Mrs Montclair wished you a good night and sweet dream."
"..."
Mario bit his lip, barely holding back his snigger while the corner of Julien's mouth twitched, irritation flickering across his cold features.
"No one will think you're a mute if you keep your mouth shut just for a moment." Julien said through clenched teeth. "What are you still standing here for? Waiting for your 'good night and sweet dreams' as well?"
With a kick, Julien pushed back his chair and raised his eyebrows, casting the bored man a threatening glare.
"No need, no need," Mario quickly waved his hand, before adding, "Sir, I'll track the phone number the Madam first tried to dial and start the investigation."
Julien merely hummed in response, as if Mario's words were a given.
The two-hour-long conversation between Madam Montclair and Ruby had never truly mattered. Both of them knew everything that had transpired over the phone was only meant for them to hear.
"I'll be going then. Please have a good night, Sir."
Mario was just about to make his leave, when Julien called for him.
"Mario, what is it like to survive from a near death experience?"
Mario's footsteps paused, his back turning stiff. As he turned around, he heard his master speak again. "Would she feel guilty for surviving instead of them?"
"Sir." Mario sternly cut him off, his voice low and heavy. "She's not the one at fault."
His eyes were gloomy as he looked at Julien, noticing how he had once again lost himself staring into the distance. A pang of pain hit his chest as he whispered under his breath.
"It's not your fault either." So Sir, please stop blaming yourself and suffer in silence…
Mario didn't let the rest of the words roll out of his tongue. He never did.
For more than 10 years, he let those words stay buried deep in his heart as he saw his master's condition worsen day by day, drowning himself in meaningless illusions and alcohol.
"Mario."
The voice shook him out of his derailing thoughts. Mario raised his eyes to meet Julien's dark gaze.
"Tell the kitchen to prepare some fish maw soup for tomorrow's breakfast."
'Fish maw soup?' Mario blinked in surprise, 'As in—the recipe Madam Montclair had just shared over the phone?'
'Why so sudden– ah!'
The agitation in his trembling pupils calmed down as realization struck him.
He had always got the feeling that his master was treating the girl differently. Perhaps, it was because his master had seen his own shadow in that girl.
"Sir, should I have the cooks prepare another portion for you?" Mario had merely asked out of habit, not expecting Julien's bitter response.
"What are you talking about?" Julien scoffed. "Serve everything in the dining room. I'll be having them together with Young Miss Montclair."
"Oh." Mario blankly nodded, his rigid body failing to recover from the shock.
"Sir, is there anything else that you need me to do? If not…"
"Bring me some paint too, I need different shades of blue to fill my palate."
'But… I thought the painting kits in your room were only there as mere decorations to fill up the space…'
Mario never saw Julien touching those tools, after all. Most of the time, he only ever caught his master either burying himself in his endless pile of work or drinking himself to his miseries.
He didn't even know if his master could actually paint well, which he was almost sure was nothing but a bluff.
Mario wanted to cry but didn't dare to. Where in the world was he supposed to find some blue paints to satisfy his master's sudden craving, especially at this dead hour?
Still, refusal was never a choice he could consider.
"I'll… get things ready…" Mario powerlessly answered, before swaying to the door like some empty shell whose soul had just left the body.
But then, when he was suddenly reminded of his initial purpose, Mario found his way back to Julien's side.
"About the Madam's personal trainer…" Mario sounded hesitant. "Sir, do you have any requirements in mind?"
Julien was quick to catch the implication in his question as he stared at Mario, his pitch-black eyes cold and unfeeling. "What are you trying to suggest?"
"She has returned. What if I arrange for the two to meet? Perhaps, they might hit it off and everything will work out as planned…"
Mario's voice trailed off, leaving room for imagination to wander.
"Do what you want." Julien stoically replied, sounding as though they didn't really matter to him. But Mario knew that was far from the truth.
The eyes never lied afterall, even for someone as hardly emotional as his master.
…
The next day, early morning.
Ruby bit her bottom lip as she sat on the left side of the long dining table. In front of her sat Julien, the brooding storm that should've appeared anywhere but within her sight—as what his habits told of him.
Beneath the table, Ruby's legs shook as if they had been harassed by the cold freezing wind, her busy eyes darting everywhere but the man. At the same time, her thoughts churned nonstop.
'What in a rare blue moon is this? Wasn't he supposed to skip breakfast, dinner, lunch—everything as if he didn't survive on food but only air? Why is he suddenly here, at the same table as me?'
Despite the chaos of the night before, Ruby hadn't skipped her morning routine. At 8 a.m. sharp, she had just finished jogging two rounds when the white-haired butler ushered her to the bathroom, before arranging her into this seat across Julien, her unreadable new boss.
What happened yesterday once again made their presence known in her mind, restored fresh anew as if each second had been taped without fault.
'What is this man exactly planning to do???'
Her eyes timidly peeked behind Julien. There stood Mario and his faceless mask, his minute movement revealing not a hint. Finding him not helpful at all, Ruby could only lower her head to listlessly fiddle with her fingers.
The clock ticked against the silence, the battle of wits and patience ceasing when breakfast was finally served.
The room was still as empty as the rule applied, the pair of masked maids only showing up to set up the entire table, before making their retreat without wasting a precious second.
Ruby heaved out a sigh of relief, when she suddenly caught sight of something that made her pupils quake.
A huge bowl of fish maw soup sat on the very centre of the variety of humble dishes, emitting a sweet herbal fragrance as a thin layer of fat floated on the surface, glistening lustrously with golden light.
Ruby closed her eyes, her lashes fluttering with tragic resignation as she inwardly screamed.
As expected! The man was indeed planning something, after all!