Michael walked out of the room, his head bowed low, an aura of despair clinging to him. He was so lost in his thoughts that he walked right past Shirley, who had been waiting for him outside the door the entire time.
"Michael, dear? What's wrong?"
He flinched, only relaxing when he realized it was her. But his mood quickly darkened again as he found himself forced to explain his new assignment.
"I've been assigned to be a personal butler—"
"Oh, that's wonderful! Out of all the jobs, that's surely one of the best," Shirley exclaimed, cutting him off, her excitement evident. "Who did you get assigned to? Was it the lord?"
Michael shook his head, his mind feeling as though it were filled with nothing but a jumbled mess.
"Hmm? Did they decide to send you to another family then?" Shirley's expression grew serious. "That bastard… I'll give him a piece of my mind," she muttered, preparing to storm off to the estate manager's office.
"N-No… They assigned me to Miss Melody."
"Huh?"
"…"
Shirley tilted her head, confusion flashing across her face. But that expression quickly shifted to one of unbridled joy. "Oh, how wonderful!" she exclaimed, her voice full of delight.
"Wonderful?" Michael spat, frustration rising in his chest. "Miss Melody hates me. She'll make my life a living hell…" he complained, unable to accept her cheerful tone.
"Now, now, you clearly don't understand us women, young Michael," Shirley said with a playful grin, patting him on the shoulder.
Michael didn't know how to respond. In his mind, Melody would likely run him ragged until he had no choice but to quit, especially considering their last interaction.
Maybe I should quit while I'm ahead. At least then I wouldn't have to ingratiate myself to that girl… he thought.
"Come on, let's go get breakfast. I'm sure you'll feel better with a full belly," the young maid said, patting him on the back in a way that sent him stumbling forward.
The sudden jolt nearly caused his bladder to burst.
"Ah… I'll meet you there," Michael said quickly, breaking into a run toward the restroom.
After he had relieved himself, Michael felt some of the tension leave his body. His mind cleared, allowing him to think more rationally.
I survived in the mana-scarred lands for three days, trudged through the wilderness by myself… If I can handle that, I can handle a spoiled noble child, he reasoned.
Michael already had to see Melody every day for their tutoring sessions—at least during the Academy's break. What harm could a few more hours together do?
At least, that's what I'll tell myself, he thought.
Upon returning to the servants' quarters, he spotted Shirley waving at him, trying to get his attention. He walked over and saw that she had already fetched breakfast for him, happily digging into her own meal.
"You're looking much better, Michael," she said with a smile.
"Mmm, I feel better," he replied, nodding.
"Oh, I brought along Esther to speak to you. You'll be replacing her as personal maid—or butler, in your case," she added.
Michael glanced over Shirley's shoulder and saw a woman with tightly bound blonde hair and dark circles under her eyes, as if she hadn't slept in the past decade. She looked older than Shirley, who was in her twenties, yet wore a bright smile, as though she had just won a grand prize.
For some reason, Michael felt a wave of unease wash over him as he looked at her.
"I'm Esther, nice to meet you," she said, her voice raspy, as though she wasn't accustomed to using it often.
Michael nodded politely, turning his attention to his food.
"Wow, Esther, I don't think I've seen you smile like this since you first started working here a year ago," Shirley remarked.
Esther chuckled—or at least Michael thought it was meant to be a chuckle. It sounded more like a crow's call on a cold, moonless night.
"I've been freed, Shirley… Now that I don't have to watch over the young miss, I can finally pursue a husband. My mom's been complaining ever since I turned eighteen this last spring."
"PFFFFFT!"
Michael, whose mouth was full of food, suddenly spat it out. He began coughing uncontrollably, his shock nearly choking him.
She's eighteen!? he thought in disbelief. What did Miss Melody do to make her look like that!?
His gloomy mood returned with full force.
Just then, a heavy hand struck his back, almost sending his face into the table. The rhythmic slaps were so hard that it felt like his ribs might crack.
"Are you okay, Michael?" Shirley asked, her hand retracting once he stopped coughing.
"I-I'm fine," he managed to reply, voice strained.
Quickly, he got up to grab some cleaning supplies to clean the mess, stealing a few more glances at Esther. But no matter how he looked at her, he couldn't reconcile the image of the exhausted woman with the fact that she was only eighteen.
When he finished cleaning up, he returned to his seat, now facing his cold food. The morale he'd gained from his earlier pep talk had vanished as though it had never existed.
It was then that Esther approached him, her smile gone. She placed a stack of rolled parchment tied with a ribbon in front of him.
"These are the notes on Miss Melody's rules, likes, and dislikes. Basically, everything you'll need to know if you're going to be her personal butler..." she explained.
Michael looked down at the stack, noting that there had to be at least ten full sheets of parchment, tightly bound. He fought the urge to cry but thanked her meekly instead.
Esther placed a hand on his shoulder, and their eyes met.
"Stay strong…" she said in a low, almost reassuring voice.
Then, as if nothing had happened, she turned and let out a laugh, practically skipping out of the servants' quarters.
Michael shuddered.
What have I gotten myself into?