Michael stared at the spot where the magic circle had appeared, his heart stirring. This was the first time he'd seen a magical contract, let alone completed one. Still, he knew there were several types.
General contracts, peer contracts, and slave contracts. The first two had a wide range of uses, from business deals to loans, property agreements, and even employment contracts. The latter, however, was far worse.
These contracts were identified not only by their content but also by the severity of the punishment if breached.
Michael wasn't sure which type of contract he'd entered into, but he needed to find out. Part of him felt betrayed that the lord had orchestrated this contract without explicitly notifying him beforehand, but there was no turning back now.
"May I ask… What are the consequences of breaching this contract?" he asked, his gaze shifting to Vaughn.
The older man raised an eyebrow, his eyes narrowing as he studied Michael. "Why? Do you intend to break your vow?"
Michael could sense the tension in the air, but he didn't back down. He had a right to know the terms of the contract.
"It's not that serious, Michael," Lord Winterborne said, his smile as refreshing as a spring morning, "No harm will come to you, as long as you don't intend to harm my daughter."
Michael exhaled in relief. Judging by the lord's words, the contract fell into the peer category—signed by two parties of similar standing. The punishment for breaching it was generally mild, as long as the person's intentions were good.
Since he and Melody were essentially in a master-servant relationship, Michael had feared he might have been entered into a slave contract without his knowledge.
Though the lord's words were vague, this was enough to ease his concerns.
He turned to Melody, who was also staring at her hand, likely where the magic circle had appeared for her. "I hope we can work together in the future, Miss Melody," Michael said, bowing.
"Mmm," she replied, nodding.
"Well," Brian said, standing up from his chair with a purposeful air, "I have some work to do this morning, so I'll leave you two to it."
With that, he exchanged a look with Vaughn, and the two men walked away from the garden, leaving Michael and Melody alone. An awkward silence stretched out between the two now that the adults were gone.
"Young miss—" Michael began, pushing past the awkwardness.
"Call me Melody," the noble girl said, fidgeting.
Michael cleared his throat, his cheeks flushing. The awkwardness felt almost unbearable, digging into him like the pain he'd felt when he had refined the chaotic mana back then.
Why is she acting like this? Is this really how she is?
Having seen her act rash and spoiled in their previous meetings, Michael was shocked to see her so meek and vulnerable. He found his perception of the young noble shifting ever so slightly.
'Now, now, you clearly don't understand us women, young Michael,' Shirley's words from earlier that morning echoed in his mind, resonating deeply within him.
I don't think I'll ever understand women… he thought, his gaze lingering on the young girl before him.
"M-Melody… What are your plans for today? I'll accompany you," he stammered.
She nodded, "I have piano lessons this morning. We should go now, or Madame Wright will scold me again."
Michael raised an eyebrow.
Madame Wright must have some standing if she dares to openly scold Miss Melody.
"After you, young m—"
Melody's eyes shot to him, her expression sharp.
Michael cleared his throat. "M-Melody."
With a satisfied nod, the young doll-like girl stepped away from the gazebo, her footsteps light. Without her father around, Michael noticed that she seemed more carefree, no longer weighed down by the noble etiquette expected of someone in her position.
For the first time, Michael saw her as just a young girl.
This revelation surprised him. Maybe there was more to Melody than he'd first thought.
"Let's hurry. I don't want to be scolded again…" she said, quickening her pace.
Michael followed closely behind, keeping a respectful distance.
Soon, they arrived in a spacious room that led to its own private garden. The windows were open, filling the room with a soft breeze and the fresh scent of jasmine.
But what truly captivated Michael was the ethereal sound that seemed to resonate deep within him. The music flowing from the piano was unlike anything he'd ever heard, even at the many noble gatherings he'd attended.
The high notes were fleeting, almost as if dancing on his heartstrings, intertwining within the melody—casting a spell without the need for magic.
As he stepped into the room, he saw the source of the music. A woman in her thirties sat at the piano, her eyes closed, her long, slender fingers gliding over the keys. Her dark hair swayed gently in the breeze.
The scene was so beautiful that it took Michael's breath away. He stood frozen, unaware that the music had already stopped.
"You're late, Melody," the woman said, standing with a stern expression.
"I apologize, Madame Wright," Melody curtsied, her tone filled with sincere respect.
Madame Wright's gaze shifted to Michael, who was still lost in the beauty of the moment. Her eyes—green like emeralds—glittered as she appraised him, her face impassive.
"Who is the boy? Your betrothed?" she asked, a trace of curiosity in her voice.
"W-What!? N-N-No!" Melody stammered, her panic evident. She glanced quickly at Michael before turning away with lightning speed.
Melody's squeal seemed to jolt Michael from his stupor. His eyes lingered on her for a moment before he stepped forward, performing a perfect bow.
"Greetings, Madame Wright. I am Michael Ellis, Miss Melody's personal butler," he introduced himself with respect. "It is a pleasure to meet you."
Enthralled by her musical talents, he wanted to show her the utmost respect. After all, a teacher of a noble was deserving of nothing less.
"Mmm," Madame Wright nodded, turning back to Melody, her eyes gleaming. "I like him. Make sure you treat him well."