Chapter 19
Something felt off.
If I had to point out exactly what was strange… it was just Ian Brighton himself.
The chandelier inside the room lost its light, and in an instant, darkness fell.
Only the moonlight streaming in through the open window lit the place.
On this full moon night, the moonlight alone was dazzling.
Ian’s eyes, reflecting that brilliant light, gleamed dangerously.
“My father slapped me.”
Ian spoke in a pitiful voice.
“And then he went so far as to throw me out of the house. I’ve been abandoned.”
That familiar, chilling sensation crawled up my spine, and I rubbed my eyes for a moment.
Damn it. In the end, I was alone again with the demon……
“Having to spend the night in a strange place against my will—it’s so frightening, so lonely. I already miss home. Sing me a lullaby, Sissi.”
There’s no way the Ian Brighton of the day would ever say something like this.
Demons really were terrifying.
A low, eerie laugh echoed. A laugh splintered into dozens of overlapping tones.
Shadows moved in perfect unison, encircling me.
“You used to speak in a more imperious tone, didn’t you……?”
Trying my best to ignore them, I muttered weakly.
‘I-an’ was silent for a moment. Then he buried his face in the pillow and chuckled.
“Do you prefer me that way?”
“N-no! I’ll sing the lullaby!”
“And the warm milk with honey?”
Ian’s voice was soft again.
“The offering you said you’d dedicate to me.”
Demons sure had good memories. I replied in a shrinking voice.
“I’ll bring it after the lullaby. I still don’t know my way around the kitchen, so I might get a bit lost.”
“That doesn’t matter. The offering can wait until tomorrow.”
What a selfish demon.
I tried not to watch how the shadows shifted in the moonlight and quietly hummed a lullaby.
“When mother goes beneath the island’s shade… to gather oysters….”
“……”
“The baby left alone…… stays home, watching….”
“Never heard that one before.”
Still lying with his cheek pressed to the pillow, eyes closed, Ian murmured.
I glanced at him sidelong.
So much for saying it was the only lullaby I remembered from my past life. That was impossible.
“I just picked it up somewhere. Back when I lived in the Grington count’s household.”
I made something up, and Ian slowly lifted his eyelids.
In the dim dark, his red eyes stood out sharply.
“Someone there sang you lullabies?”
“No. There wasn’t anyone like that. I just heard it once, passing through a neighborhood at night….”
“No one did?”
“No.”
I fidgeted with my fingers.
The hand Ian was still holding felt unbearably heavy.
I was so tired I could die. Just when was Ian Brighton planning to let me go?
Still, compared to the days I toiled in the Grington estate kitchen until dawn without rest…
Yes, this was a hundred times better. Even if I was face-to-face with a demon.
“That count’s household.”
“Yes.”
“Do you like it?”
What kind of random question was that?
Sleepiness slipped away a little.
Had I ever said anything positive about the Gringtons?
Of course not. Even half-asleep, I could answer this one with certainty.
How on earth did that question even come up?
With a muddled feeling, I stammered.
“Uh… no…?”
Ian’s expression seemed to brighten. …Brighten?
“Then you hate it?”
I hesitated to answer.
They say never bad-mouth your old workplace in front of your new employer.
“Mm… They did give me a place to sleep, so I suppose it wasn’t all bad.”
That was me sugarcoating it to the best of my ability.
But Ian seemed to see right through me.
He smiled—so beautifully it felt almost wrong.
“So you do hate it.”
And for some reason, that fact seemed to please him.
I couldn’t for the life of me understand why.
No—worse, a small part of me grew uneasy.
He wasn’t suddenly going to turn the Grington estate into a wasteland, was he?
Hmm……
Unlike with Rosetta, this time I didn’t feel the urge to stop him.
I guess I wasn’t such a saint after all.
“You’re capable of hating someone too.”
“Of course! I have things I dislike as well.”
“I thought you were just a silly fool who adored everything, always grinning.”
“I’m truly moved, young master, that you’ve watched me that closely.”
“What is it you dislike, then?”
When could I finally go back to my room?
But judging by his persistence, sleep was still far off.
With a resigned sigh, I began.
“People who try to trip me in the dining hall, or dump dirty water on me when I haven’t done anything wrong, then laugh at me soaking wet. I hate people who mock me, ostracize me, gang up on me to jeer and bully.”
Ian went silent for a moment.
“Very specific examples. Almost like you actually experienced them.”
He was way too perceptive!
“So that was in the Grington household too?”
This wouldn’t do.
“That’s enough talk! I’ll take my leave now, young master. Or would you like me to finish the lullaby?”
“Sissi.”
“Yes, young master?”
“When my father asked if I liked him, you answered that you were my loyal servant.”
So he had heard me in all that chaos.
And then he had embraced me because of those words.
A strange feeling welled up inside me.
That Ian Brighton could throw his arms around me for just a few words like that.
“That means you like me, doesn’t it?”
That he could even ask such a question.
After carefully choosing my words for a long moment, I spoke cautiously.
“Well… they say when spending time with someone feels precious and enjoyable, it means you cherish and like that person.”
“……”
“If that’s what it means, then yes. I do like you, young master.”
For a moment, Ian’s gaze softened.
Then, at last, the hand holding mine slipped down onto the bedcovers.
I was free.
“Then… may I really go now?”
Ian didn’t answer. He only nodded once and lay down, closing his eyes.
Watching him for a moment, I gently brushed his forehead and whispered.
“Good night, young master. Sweet dreams.”
He wasn’t someone I should be offering kindness to—so why had I done it?
Maybe because, as he himself had said, a boy slapped by his father and cast out to this villa seemed just a little pitiful.
Or maybe I saw myself reflected in him.
If Ian Brighton knew, he’d sneer that I was overstepping.
I pictured him scowling and muttering, Overstepping, and smiled faintly.
And so my first night in the Brighton duke’s villa came to an end.
“Si-ssi! Sissi!”
The next morning, the villa’s kitchen maid came rushing to find me.
No more seeing Pansy, who used to slip me pumpkin tarts in the kitchen.
And no more cakes gifted daily by the duchess.
The thought left me a little wistful, but what was done was done.
I answered the maid as politely as I could.
“Yes, is there something you need me to do?”
“You know young master Ian well, don’t you? You were his attendant the longest, they say.”
“I’m still far from perfect. But if I can help, I’ll do my best.”
The maid paused, staring at me.
For a second, I thought I saw the words Is this kid really a child? flash across her face.
“Ah, it’s nothing much. We brought his breakfast, and he said, ‘Prepare a picnic.’ Do you know what that means?”
Ah.
So he still had the picnic on his mind……!
“He could mean just an ordinary picnic, but just in case….”
“It really is just a picnic! He’d planned one before we came here, but circumstances stopped it. I guess he regretted it.”
“Oh, I see. Then we just need to prepare normal picnic food? Nothing special?”
Relief spread across her face.
She must have imagined all sorts of wild scenarios after hearing about Ian.
So even here, at the villa, he was someone to be watched carefully.
“Ah, well.”
I started to answer confidently, but then stopped short.
The memory of all the food dropping to the ground that morning flashed through my head again.
…That bread had been so good, too.
“Blueberry jam on pain de campagne….”
The words slipped out before I realized it.
Oops. That was what I wanted, not what Ian had asked for.
But the maid was already nodding.
“All right. I’ll be sure to include that on the menu.”
“Ah, no, that’s—”
I tried to stop her, but she was already gone.
Leaving me behind in a daze.
