CHAPTER 10………………………………………..
Why did she call my name? Wait… she already knew it? So it wasn’t that she couldn’t speak—it was that she chose not to.
That early morning, the hero’s sudden words had left Xenia’s mind in a jumble.
Sitting at her vanity to get ready for work, Xenia froze the moment her eyes met the hero’s through the mirror.
Whether the hero noticed her embarrassment at being caught peeking or not, their eyes met—and the hero’s eyes curved into a soft, effortless smile.
Xenia barely stopped her mouth from dropping open, awkwardly lifting the corners of her lips as she combed her already-straightened hair again and again.
Why is she smiling like that?
Since waking up, Xenia couldn’t understand the hero, who smiled brightly every time their eyes met.
Was that early-morning smile… not half-asleep?
The person who only breathed without expression suddenly acting like a human…
Honestly, she wasn’t even sure if that counted as “acting like a human.”
Because she was smiling, the whole mood shifted, making it seem at a glance that her condition had improved. But looking closer, her eyes were still weak.
The hero I imagined could smile like sunshine…
But this current smile was different from the early-morning one—like looking at a perfectly arranged, artificial garden.
Still, it wasn’t entirely false; glimpses of that morning’s sincerity occasionally appeared in her smile.
A tiny shred of genuine feeling hidden in a false smile… what am I even saying?
Sighing, Xenia recalled the morning scene.
Seeing the hero smile innocently while calling her name, she had been flustered—and now her hands moved again.
Without much thought, she smoothed the shining golden hair, and the hero let out a small laugh.
A laugh that resonated through her throat, tickling the ears of anyone who heard it. Seeing the hero laugh so openly, as if pleased with her touch, Xenia found herself continuing to stroke the hair unconsciously.
Rustle, rustle—repeatedly moving strands aside, the hero exhaled lazily.
She looked so utterly comfortable.
So Xenia continued to tend to the hero’s hair for a long time until she fell asleep again, unable to let go of the hand still holding her wrist.
And now…
Awake, the hero’s face shone, her radiant smile spreading brightly everywhere just like it had at dawn.
No matter how I think about it, nothing that happened at dawn was particularly special.
What had occurred when the hero was left alone in the room the previous day? Or was it a dream gone wrong?
Xenia wanted to know why her behavior had suddenly changed overnight.
Lost in thought, Xenia suddenly noticed a shadow above her head. Snapped out of her reverie by the sudden darkening, she realized the hero had quietly approached behind her.
“Why?”
When their eyes met, the hero smiled beautifully and pulled out a pocket watch from her chest. She tapped it lightly—seemingly a signal that it was almost time to leave for work.
Xenia quickly pushed her hair, which had become flat from over-combing, behind her ears and jumped to her feet.
“Thank you for letting me know.”
She didn’t know whether the hero’s change in attitude was good or bad. But Xenia was a worker, and her boss—the Demon Lord—did not like tardiness.
In the end, without arriving at any real conclusion, she left for work, seeing off the brightly smiling hero.
Late in the afternoon, Xenia hurriedly wiped the image of the hero from her mind and turned to look at the Demon Lord.
“What did you say?”
The Demon Lord replied, sounding annoyed.
“The Viscount of Lerazie will be coming.”
The name alone made her tired. Was she being punished for letting her mind wander while working?
Xenia forced a polite smile and asked,
“Viscount Lerazie? Why him?”
“Because of the recent battle.”
Ah… that.
Although it had happened not long ago, she had completely forgotten it ever since the hero had entered her life.
“Is there a problem?”
She had assumed everything had gone smoothly since the Demon Lord returned earlier than planned—but apparently not. Yet, the Demon Lord’s expression was calm.
“The Duke won, and there’s no problem. But Duke Gremory entrusted the punishment of Count Veris and Baron Vine to Lerazie.”
“Why?”
Xenia thought about the relationship between Lerazie and Gremory.
Duke Gremory, generally mild for a demon, loved his magically adept pet horse. Viscount Lerazie, impulsive and vain about her looks, was neither close nor hostile to Gremory—just fellow high-ranking nobles, with little else in common.
Then why?
The Demon Lord’s next words quickly clarified Xenia’s doubt.
“Count Veris doesn’t get along with Lerazie. Maybe that’s why Lerazie came to watch the battle.”
It seemed a simple “enemy of my enemy is my ally” logic had applied. Taking the red envelope the Demon Lord handed her, Xenia asked,
“What’s the punishment?”
“Organizing the underground warehouse of the Demon Castle.”
“The warehouse?”
Thinking of the castle’s underground storage while opening the envelope, Xenia frowned.
“Why there all of a sudden…?”
The Demon Lord looked surprised by her reaction.
“So you know.”
“Of course.”
As a formal servant, the first story she’d ever heard was about that warehouse. She couldn’t not know.
“No one should ever enter the underground warehouse. Those with weak magical power risk being ensnared by the magic and devoured.”
It was what Beep, even in his busy schedule, had explained personally when Xenia became a servant at a young age.
No servant could enter without the butler Eligos’ permission. Once inside, one could barely escape alive, and with bad luck, even die.
Xenia, valuing her life, had immediately lost interest in the underground warehouse.
“That’s where the offerings for His Majesty are stored, right?”
Items of little practical use but strong magical power, impossible to destroy or use, yet too precious to give away? Ancient items passed down through generations of Demon Lords—dangerous in their own right.
Seeing Xenia’s uneasy expression, the Demon Lord replied casually,
“Yes, that’s the place.”
“…I see.”
Well, although it was dangerous for weak servants like her, it likely wouldn’t be too difficult for nobles. It might look a bit sloppy, but manageable.
“I shouldn’t even glance at the underground while this punishment is in effect.”
She had no intention of going near it anyway, but now she vowed to completely avoid it while the punishment lasted. The Demon Lord smirked.
“That’s inconvenient.”
Then he said with a sly expression,
“Lerazie asked for you as her personal maid.”
“You refused, right?”
She asked urgently, but the Demon Lord gave no reply. Xenia quickly continued,
“There’s still so much work to do. Taking a day off would just let it pile up. I’ve recharged over a productive holiday and can finish work faster.”
She gestured at the papers scattered across the desk, trying to appear enthusiastic.
“I’ll work harder.”
The Demon Lord twisted a corner of his mouth.
“Eligos will go instead.”
Eligos would tend to Lerazie? Or Eligos would do her work instead?
Xenia couldn’t deny reality before the Demon Lord confirmed,
“Eligos will handle your work, so you take care of Lerazie.”
Really? She was being told to serve Lerazie personally? It felt unfair—he had only just praised her for working well!
Feeling wronged, Xenia glared at the Demon Lord. He narrowed his eyes and asked,
“So you’re uncomfortable with Lerazie?”
Asked so bluntly, she couldn’t admit her feelings.
“…No.”
She forced a smile. The Demon Lord sneered,
“Oh? I would’ve changed it if you were uncomfortable, so fine then.”
He seemed amused. Xenia sighed in resignation.
“And if something goes wrong?”
“What kind of problem?”
His response was puzzled. She tilted her head.
“Wouldn’t I be in danger?”
She had to go into the notorious underground warehouse. Speaking sincerely,
“I don’t like getting hurt.”
After a long pause as if thinking, the Demon Lord finally replied with indifference,
“Lerazie likes your face, so it’ll be fine.”
Her face.
Well, the Demon Lord wasn’t wrong—Viscount Lerazie did like Xenia’s face very much. Beautiful, like a pearl, he’d said.
Xenia recalled Lerazie praising her endlessly and then looked at the Demon Lord again.
“Isn’t that a bit irresponsible?”
Lerazie liking her face didn’t guarantee her safety. Yet the Demon Lord spoke as if it were no problem.
“Wouldn’t he hate your beautiful face disappearing? If you die or get hurt, its value drops.”
Treating her like an object meant her life would actually be protected—but wouldn’t that make it even more dangerous?
“Won’t he just take my head?”
Xenia recalled the intense expression of Lerazie when she had discovered her humanity and had begged desperately.
“After you die, can I preserve your face?”
Tears had filled Lerazie’s eyes as she lamented that such beauty would last only decades. Then she added, as if indulging her own whims,
“Or at least your amethyst-like eyes?”
Seeing Xenia recoil, the Demon Lord spoke, annoyed,
“I’ll tell him to take care of you.”
Even so, Xenia didn’t feel reassured. But judging from his indifferent expression, saying more wouldn’t change anything.
Just as she turned to her desk, a low, calm voice came from behind.
“You probably can’t work on documents properly with that wrist anyway, so being by Lerazie’s side might be better for you too.”
