Chapter 7
When Gremore came to, she took a moment to confirm whether what she had just heard was real.
Because she could perceive human darkness, she was able to read negative thoughts.
And Isollen’s thoughts had been as follows:
“Just looking at her, she seems like an idiot. Even if I hand her something simple, she probably won’t manage it properly. Once she proves she’s useless, she’ll be driven out like Julina and Angela—left with nothing but a bottle of dye and a handful of coins.”
Damn it. It was real.
Isollen let out a faint, self-satisfied chuckle and left the break room with light, graceful steps. Gremore immediately sensed trouble.
Was this what Iris had been talking about?
“There’s one thing you don’t know yet. When that situation comes, you’ll end up coming to me.”
“When that happens, make a deal with me. I’ll give you what you need, and you protect my brother.”
It seemed that moment had finally arrived. Not that she liked it much.
“Hey, Iris.”
- Yes, Lady Gremore!
As if she had been waiting, Iris popped out the moment her name was called. Her bright expression showed she was excited to finally get what she wanted.
“Why does your brother kick out victims of witch hunts he’s already rescued? Isn’t it a bit harsh to throw them out just because they can’t work well?”
- From my brother’s perspective, it was consideration. Before you came to this estate, dark energy filled every corner. It made even normal people mentally unstable. He was sending those women to the countryside for recovery and rest.
“Anyway, let’s just make that deal you wanted.”
- Good. I’ll help you with all your maid duties, and in return, please protect my brother.
“Your brother doesn’t look like someone who needs protection. He seems more than capable of handling himself.”
- My brother staged something big in the imperial palace to ban witch hunts across the empire. As a result, he was exiled here to the Grand Duchy. He now protects this territory from constant intrusions. He barely has time to take care of himself… and to be honest, there’s more to it, but—
“Stop. Don’t go into details. My head hurts already.”
Gremore shook her head and covered her ears, instinctively sensing that hearing more would only complicate things further.
- I wasn’t planning to explain everything anyway. In any case, I just need you to make sure he stays safe. That much is possible, right?
“No.”
- W-why not?
“Your brother isn’t an ordinary man. As a grand duke, he’ll be attending banquets and traveling all over the place. And you want me to follow him everywhere and protect him? No thanks. I refuse.”
- Why? Do you dislike being around people?
“I can’t explain the details, but I ran away from the demon realm and am currently hiding. I can’t afford to be noticed by other witches. I’d be captured.”
Without turning around, Gremore picked up the documents Isollen had left behind. They would soon be thrown into the fireplace.
- …Even so, you really do look like a witch.
“Still no. It’s too dangerous for me. If you really want this, offer your soul instead.”
- I’ll offer my soul.
“…What?”
- So please protect my brother. For at least ten years.
The word soul made Gremore’s eyes flash.
It was rare for someone to offer their soul in a witch’s contract. With a soul, one could use it as material to refine concealment magic and live hidden in the human world for a lifetime. Of course, only after ten years—but even that was enough.
“Fine. Contract complete.”
The moment she spoke, Gremore’s eyes glowed red.
A crimson restraint appeared around Iris’s neck. A long chain extended from it, held in Gremore’s hand.
The visible form of the restraint quickly faded into invisibility. Iris touched her neck cautiously.
- What was that just now?
“A leash that’ll catch you if you try to run. Not that I think you would. It’s just for formality.”
- …I don’t feel great about it.
“Anyway, help me with these documents. What am I supposed to write here?”
With Iris’s assistance, Gremore completed the paperwork. Once part of the imperial family, Iris had surprisingly strong administrative skills despite being labeled a “black-haired witch” and persecuted. She had once desperately tried to prove her worth, insisting she was not a witch.
And so, Gremore’s assigned task steadily came to completion.
“Very good.”
Teshion gave a short but rare praise after reviewing the documents.
Isollen, standing beside him, glanced at the papers and silently compared them to her own work.
Even someone with little awareness would have noticed her expression.
Teshion looked at her gently.
“It seems Isollen taught you well. To turn a beginner into someone competent in just a few hours…”
“Th-that’s right, Your Highness. It’s all thanks to me.”
“I’d like to speak with you separately about your abilities, Mori. Could you step outside for a moment?”
It was the most welcome sentence she had heard all day.
Gremore immediately left the room and headed straight for the sofa in the break room.
Silence briefly settled in the office. Afternoon sunlight painted Teshion’s silver hair in a brilliant glow.
“Isollen.”
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“I understand the feelings you hold toward me.”
“…!”
“I had chosen to ignore them until now. I assumed they would fade quickly. The women I rescue tend to develop feelings for me. It’s natural. If I were in their place, I might feel the same.”
Isollen’s face flushed red. She fidgeted nervously, flustered.
“N-no, my feelings are not like that! I sincerely—!”
“I’m sorry, Isollen. If I had known my indifference would hurt you, I would have distanced myself sooner. That is my mistake.”
“…!”
“Please leave now.”
It was an unmistakable rejection.
Tears quickly gathered at the corners of Isollen’s eyes.
“Uu…!”
She ran out of the office.
So that was it. The Grand Duke had brought in a new maid for a reason.
To push me out.
The new maid—Mori—suddenly became unbearable to her. It felt like she had stolen the Grand Duke’s attention.
Isollen rushed toward the break room, thinking she might grab that woman by the hair just to relieve her frustration.
But the moment she opened the door, what she saw was absurd.
Mori was casually leaning against the table, pouring strong whiskey into a crystal glass, looking at her as if to say, “Oh, you’re here?”
“What is this? Are you messing with me?”
“……”
Gremore placed a glass across from her.
Still furious, Isollen clicked her tongue and sat down anyway, downing the strong drink.
Iris, who had quietly provided Isollen’s preference for whiskey, smiled to herself in the corner.
“Grrrrr… that bastard… if he was going to do that, he shouldn’t have been so kind back then… he said I was the only one… sob…”
In broad daylight, Isollen had completely drowned herself in whiskey and was now clinging to Gremore, sobbing uncontrollably.
Her personality made her poorly suited for friendships; even the head maid avoided her.
And yet, Gremore—who silently listened without complaint—felt like a saint to her.
“I’m sorry I was so cold when we first met… I didn’t know you were such a good person… hic…”
Gremore resigned herself and allowed the embrace.
Meanwhile, Iris quietly instructed:
- Pat her on the back. She’ll like it more.
Gremore glanced back as if to say, Why me?
- She’s a noble lady. It’ll be useful if you get along with her.
Though it was hard to imagine what use this drunken troublemaker could possibly have, Gremore began patting Isollen’s back.
“Waaah! This is the first time anyone’s comforted me like this! Mori, you’re the best friend ever!”
Isollen hugged her tighter. Gremore looked horrified.
Iris watched the scene with satisfaction.
- Now anyone trying to approach my brother won’t stand a chance. If you two work together, nothing will be a threat.
Gremore’s expression turned serious.
There were more intruders trying to approach the Grand Duke?
When she looked at Iris, Iris answered calmly:
- It’s not just intruders. You’ll need to accompany him to banquets and parties often. Especially the upcoming imperial banquet. Compared to that, the ones before will seem harmless.
While listening, Isollen suddenly turned pale.
“…Ugh.”
And then she vomited.
Gremore dragged her to the restroom with a grim expression and smacked her back in frustration.
“Waaah… I always wanted a friend who would pat my back when I throw up… thank you…”
Even that seemed to make her happy.
Gremore sighed deeply, already sensing how exhausting life in this chaotic mansion would become.
Still, watching her like this was making me want to throw up too.
Gremore simply shut the bathroom door, stepped out, and quietly removed all the silver candlesticks from the break room before Isollen could see them.
