The elderly butler led Julian through the hallways, where the only sound was the clicking of Julian's boots against the cold flagstones. The manor was even more desolate inside than out.
When they reached the West Wing, the butler pushed open a door to a surprisingly spacious room, though sparsely furnished. A single bed, a desk, and a full bookshelf that reached the ceiling.
"Your schedule will be delivered with your meal," the butler said, his monocle glinting in the dim light. "The Young Lord expects his first lesson at eight o'clock tomorrow morning. Do not be late. And be advised—the young Lord does not tolerate... noise."
With that cryptic warning, the old man retreated, closing the door with a soft thud that echoed like a gavel.
Julian dropped his suitcase and sat on the well-spread bed. At least they didn't give him a dusty room.
This place was okay, he thought.
Though modest, it was fine. He didn't come to live in luxury after all. He came to survive.
It looked like the internal heating of the manor was pathetic, but no one was complaining since they had all been accustomed to the cold.
He checked the system.
[Survival Points Remaining: 142]
[Current Status: Warm (Time remaining: 9h 59m)]
[Current Threat Level: 10%]
With this, he should be fine, even in case of an emergency. The threat level was so low that he could lie back, but being too laid back might make him careless and make a mistake, so he planned to stay on guard.
The threat level might rise at any moment.
If the young Lord doesn't like him, or his teaching he is so confident in, he might lose his job before he even gets to say 'Good Riddance To Bad Rubbish!'
He walked over to the window and pulled back the heavy velvet curtain. Below, he could see the courtyard and the frozen fountain, and the young boy Lucius was still there, staring at the fountain with no words.
His back was so heavy that Julian began to wonder.
'For a child who seems to have turned off everything, how am I going to win his affection?'
He didn't need to think long and figured being friendly would be a nice start.
The first thing he did, however, was offload his suitcase and throw his tired body on the bed, staring at the rough ceiling high above his head and before he knew it, his heavy eyelids closed in sleep.
The next moment, he woke up to a heavy knock on his door. He jolted up, as if he had just heard a thunder clap above his head, panting and sweating.
Julian seldom had peaceful sleep. It wasn't that he was plagued with nightmares, but each time he slept, he would wake up with heavy pants and breaking out in cold sweat.
When he checked his body status on the system, it would show this...
>[Name: Julian Von Astrea]
>[Body condition: Extreme Tachycardia]
>[Mental State: Unstable]
He groaned, shoving his fingers through his damp hair and hissing under his breath.
"I just can't get used to this..."
It felt as though he had been running a marathon in his sleep, or perhaps, fighting for his life. His muscles ached with a phantom strain that he couldn't explain.
He waited for his pulse to settle, forcing himself to breathe in the cold air of the room until the knock came again and his heaving chest and frantic eyes settled.
"Who... Who is it?"
"The meal has arrived," a flat, female voice called from behind the door.
Julian stood up, smoothed out his wrinkled shirt, and headed for the door. When he opened it, he saw two maids. Their faces were as expressionless as the mannequins, and their eyes downcast... Like they had no souls.
The first maid held a tray. On it was a simple meal, dense bread, a bowl of steaming root vegetable pottage and a small portion of salted fish... Maybe too simple but who could complain?
The North was not exactly a place with bountiful harvests or rich in resources.
Whatever they had now, they were probably making do until the heavy snow settled and the leaves began to grow again.
The winter this time was just too harsh.
"Thank you," Julian said and was about to take the tray when his eyes spotted a folded piece of brown paper.
His hand flicked over their heads at their affection level.
[Target: Maid A — Affection: 0% (Status: Indifferent)]
[Target: Maid B — Affection: 0% (Status: Indifferent)]
It was like living in a house of dolls. No one hated him, but no one saw him as a human being either.
"About this," he pointed at the paper and she nodded.
"The schedule for your daily activities is in there," the maid said, her voice a monotone. "The Young Lord's study is in the East Wing, second floor. You are expected at eight. Do not wander into the North Tower or the Duke's private library."
Without waiting for further words from Julian, the two women bowed in unison and retreated, leaving Julian to stare at the paper.
Julian closed the door and sat back down at his desk.
He picked up the bread and dipped it into the soup. He guessed it wouldn't taste right eaten alone since it was hard and slightly had a bitter scent, so he used the soup, adding a layered flavor to it and making it edible while he read his schedule on paper.
He was impressed at how organized it was and began looking forward to this new life of his more than anything else.