Kuhn had sent Carlisle a message requesting help to leave Blaise’s mansion, and an answer soon returned.
Kuggiseu—
Kuhn crumpled the letter in his hand.
[Prince Carlisle considers you to be on vacation, and orders you to stay with Lady Mirabelle until she returns to the south. – Zenard]
Kuhn and Zenard avoided seeing each other’s faces when they could. It was no different this time, but what was written on the letter still frustrated Kuhn.
‘…Vacation.’
Kuhn had never taken a break since he joined Carlisle, except when he was forced to rest for injuries. That was the way Kuhn wanted it. He did not know how to spend time without a mission, and he felt useless when he was sitting still.
‘General, why…?’
Until now, Carlisle knew Kuhn’s ethic and made it possible for him to return to work quickly. For him, a bloody battlefield was the only thing that made him feel alive.
Kuhn recalled something Carlisle had said to him after he escaped from the Empress’ palace.
— Force yourself to rest sometimes. Don’t overwork yourself to death.
At that time, Kuhn thought it was just a casual remark born out of worry. But was it true? This time Kuhn felt driven into an environment where he had to rest, whether he wanted to or not.
Kuhn looked around the empty bedroom, frowning. Batori had left for the Imperial Palace, and their once shared quarters was now quieter.
This oppressive silence…Kuhn hated it. If he didn’t get a chance to move his body, he was a good as dead.
‘What the hell is one supposed to do in a place like this?’
He could disappear like a shadow from Blaise mansion, but now he was bound by his promise with Elena and orders from Carlisle.
A headache pulsed in Kuhn’s head, and he grabbed his forehead with one hand.
— You useless bastard! Go and die!
Somehow, old memories floated to the surface on his mind. Though the event took place long ago, the voice sounded clear in his ears. His heart clenched.
It was then.
Ttog ttog.
There was the sound of soft footsteps, and then a few taps on the door. There were not many who would knock carefully when visiting a servant. Kuhn looked towards the entrance, and a clear, familiar voice spoke.
“Kuhn, are you in there?”
It was Mirabelle. She burdened him with kindness before, and now she was speaking to Kuhn, who was trying to avoid the gaze of others.
Kuhn still did not understand. Why did she go so far to take care of him?
‘When did it start?’
Was it when he saved Mirabelle? Or was it when Mirabelle saved his wounded self at the palace? In retrospect, all of their meetings took place in unexpected circumstances. It was the first time in his life that so many accidents coincided. Whether or not it was destiny, Kuhn had never experienced such a thing before.
After a moment, the door groaned noisily as it swung inwards. Mirabelle looked sunny as always. Kuhn didn’t realize it, but the unpleasant memories that came to his mind were swiftly fading from his head.
“Oh? I thought you weren’t here because you didn’t answer.”
Usually, one would have shouted at Kuhn for not answering, but Mirabelle did not treat him differently despite his status.
“I didn’t hear you call because I was thinking of something else, Young Lady.”
Despite the obvious lie, Mirabelle believed his words without a doubt. Lying like this was new and a little uncomfortable, especially when he lied so easily and she trusted him so fully.
Mirabelle stared at Kuhn with a warm gaze and asked him innocently,
“Would you like to go on the picnic that I told you about?”
Her question gave the implication that he could reject her offer. But could a servant of Blaise mansion refuse?
Kuhn gave himself a self-mocking smile. No matter that he worked under Carlisle, memories of his past slave self always haunted him. He couldn’t forget his position even when he was disguised as a servant. Kuhn, who had lived as a slave since he was a child, knew better than anyone else.
He dismissed Mirabelle’s offer of a choice and chose the answer he thought had already been decided.
“Yes, Young Lady.”
