Chapter: 13
Not long after I returned to my room, the bell rang.
I hurried to Master’s room.
“Are you feeling a bit better?”
“I don’t know.”
“Ah, then shall I go out again?”
As I pretended to open the door and leave, Master shouted urgently:
“Don’t go!”
He grabbed me without thinking and quickly added:
“Y-you still have to clean the room. How can you go somewhere when you haven’t finished your tasks? Don’t you see the dust on the windowsill?”
“I wiped the windowsill yesterday.”
“Huh?”
“I clean it daily so dust doesn’t fly when opening the window. Look.”
I swiped my finger across the windowsill to show him. Naturally, there wasn’t a speck of dust on my fingertip.
Embarrassment flickered across Master’s face. His clear green eyes shook, and finally, a loud sound came from his small, quivering lips.
“Th-then? You don’t want to clean now?”
“No. Of course I do.”
Cleaning is a daily task.
I smiled brightly and rolled up my sleeves.
Master glared at me in disbelief.
“If you’re going to do it anyway, why argue?”
“When did I ever argue with you, Master?”
“You just did.”
“Just… oh, showing you the clean windowsill?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s just to confirm it’s clean since you said there was dust. I can’t make you check it yourself.”
I answered calmly, but his expression grew increasingly scrunched.
“You really…”
His voice was full of irritation, as if everything about me annoyed him.
“How come you never give in? And you’re just a maid.”
He muttered “just a maid” grumpily, then suddenly gasped and covered his mouth.
Like a child who had done something wrong, his green eyes, wide with guilt, glanced at me once before quickly averting his gaze. His fingers fidgeted helplessly.
‘That looks… like an apologetic expression…’
Could it be that he regretted saying “just a maid”?
He didn’t speak, only moved his lips slightly.
I waited silently. Perhaps this time he was going to apologize? I hoped so quietly.
After a while, a small voice finally escaped:
“Mi…”
Good, just one more letter!
“Mi… don’t act foolish.”
Ah, so close.
Well, I shouldn’t have expected Master, proud as he is, to apologize over something so trivial.
“I’m letting it slide because I have a big heart. Got it?”
“Yes, yes. Of course, I know. You treat me so well, Master.”
It was true. Compared to when we first met, Master had always been kind—teaching me to read and write, sharing desserts. If only he could express his kindness more openly.
“…Then you behave too.”
Even when he occasionally ignored me or said something mean, I knew it wasn’t his true feelings. My master may be kind, but he’s a bit immature and not very straightforward.
So it was fine. I had cried yesterday without realizing it, but this time I answered with a bright smile.
“Yes, Master.”
I hoped that someday his kind heart would be shown outwardly as well.
As I meticulously cleaned the room, I felt piercing eyes on me. When I glanced subtly, Master pretended to read a book as if nothing had happened.
I pondered seriously.
Should I tell him that he’s holding the book upside down?
“Master.”
When I called carefully, he snapped his head up.
“Why are you calling me?”
I stopped myself from talking about the book, fearing he’d be embarrassed.
“Do you have something for me to do?”
“…Why ask that all of a sudden?”
“You’ve been looking at me all day.”
Even before, Master often glanced at me out of the corner of his eye.
Then, when our eyes met, he would startle and assign small tasks—closing a window, bringing dessert, small things like that.
So I assumed he’d make me do something this time too.
“You’re talking nonsense! That never happened!”
Master’s face flushed like someone caught doing something bad. His reaction was several times more furious than usual.
“Oh, really? I must have been mistaken, hehe.”
“You don’t believe me, do you?”
“No, I do.”
“….”
His eyebrows drew closer to his eyes. Even his otherwise smooth forehead wrinkled.
Every inch of him showed dissatisfaction.
Did he not like my answer?
Seeing his face, I prepared myself mentally; it looked like he was about to get angry again.
“…But you’ve been looking at my face all day too.”
What’s going on?
Master isn’t angry.
Kids really do grow up fast—maybe he’s more mature than yesterday.
“Yes. I always look at you, Master.”
At my natural reply, his bright green eyes widened even more.
“Lisa told me that a good servant should always watch over their master’s mood.”
The mysterious emotion rising in his face withered instantly.
His expression looked disappointed.
Then he pouted slightly and muttered under his breath, barely audible:
“When was I ever…”
“Pardon? What did you say?”
“…Nothing you need to know.”
His eyes glared at me, full of dissatisfaction.
His voice sounded self-deprecating.
“You only treat me well because I’m Hamilton.”
“Pardon?”
“Yes. If you weren’t my maid, you wouldn’t care about someone like me.”
“Hmm, I guess that’s true.”
At my honest answer, his eyes flickered roughly. Seeing his hurt expression, I realized my mistake.
Maybe I should have said something like, ‘You would have treated me well even if I weren’t your Master.’
But I didn’t want to. Offering a polite lie would be ignoring his true feelings.
“If I hadn’t become your maid, I wouldn’t have met you, so I couldn’t have cared.”
“….”
“It’s true you treat me well because you’re my Master. You’re my Master, and I’m your maid.”
“Then, if you weren’t my maid?”
“Hmm.”
I couldn’t imagine meeting Ricardo Master elsewhere.
After a moment’s thought, I answered:
“I think you would still have treated me well.”
“…Why? If I weren’t your master, there’d be no reason to treat you well.”
“Still… you’re younger than me, Master. I usually take care of younger siblings, so I would have done the same.”
“What…?”
His expression briefly brightened but then crumpled completely.
He threw the book down and stood abruptly. His small fists trembled in the air.
I hurried to pick up the book.
“Master, what are you doing throwing the book?”
He shouted at me with a sharp gaze:
“Who’s younger than whom!”
Ah, I messed up.
Kids his age hate being treated like children.
I quickly tried to recover.
“Ah, of course, Master, you’re very mature for your age! But technically, you are still younger than me…”
The more I spoke, the worse his expression seemed, so I trailed off.
“Get out.”
“But Master, I haven’t finished cleaning—”
“No need, just get out! Now!”
“Yes….”
Twice in one day, I was driven out.
I sighed outside the door. I thought I had gotten closer to Master, but apparently not yet.
Ricardo huffed and puffed for a while, then collapsed exhausted onto the sofa.
“Really… what am I even doing, Ricardo?”
He had hurt Mary with his words, lost his temper, and ended up being kicked out.
He felt ashamed and pathetic.
‘No wonder Mary treats me like a child.’
As he suppressed his emotions, he recalled his conversation with Mary:
“…But you’ve been looking at my face all day too.”
“Yes. I always look at you, Master.”
Ricardo didn’t dislike that Mary kept watching him.
Mary said his face was pretty, like a prince in a fairy tale. It was true… or so he thought.
“…Lisa told me that a good servant should always watch over their master’s mood.”
The reason she had been looking at him all along was simply to fulfill her duty as a servant. The realization felt like a betrayal.
He had thought she looked at him because he was handsome.
In his disappointment, he almost muttered such childish words aloud.
