Noir was enjoying the modern conveniences thoroughly once he got used to them. He marvelled at the gadgets and how easy it made life for these humans! Back in the day, before he was taken away by the Emperor and had servants to wait on him, he had learnt to do everything by himself from his Master, and as he had grown older, he had started waiting on his Master, too. And now so many things could be done with the touch of a button!
"This is so convenient!" Noir exclaimed, looking at the food processor as if it was the answer to all of life's questions.
The elderly cook laughed at his enthusiasm. She had just shown him how to use the wet grinder.
Noir picked up the juicer attachment. "What's this?" he asked curiously.
"We can use it to make juice," the cook told him. "Different kinds of fruits require different treatment, and we usually just blend things in this one, since Boss prefers juice from the cold press juicer."
Noir had seen the cold press juicer in action the previous day and had been so carried away with the fun that everyone in the estate had been served at least four glasses of juice. It was only when they ran out of fruits and vegetables that Noir had stopped.
Solis himself had been made to drink seven glasses of juice in a span of four hours.
"Are you putting me on a liquid diet today?" he asked Noir curiously.
Noir shook his head. "I'm trying out the juicer and different combinations," he said. "Which one do you like the most?"
Solis was startled, and his subordinates, even more so. This new person…dared to experiment on the fearsome Boss Solis…? And Boss Solis wasn't reaching for his gun yet…?
How strange!
Then there was the gas burner. The first day of his arrival, Noir had been so enamoured with it that he kept running downstairs in the middle of the night just to light up the burner and look at the merry blue flames!
Noir, who was a very light sleeper, had been woken up repeatedly by the other man's pottering about. Finally, when he could take it no more, Solis had turned up the lights in his room and opened the door with his remote controller.
Noir, on his fourth trip downstairs, stopped when he saw the door open. Thinking Solis was feeling unwell, he rushed into the room.
"What happened? Why did you wake up? Are you feeling uncomfortable anywhere? Do you need something?" Noir asked anxiously, grabbing Solis's arm and checking his pulse right away.
Solis's face softened at his concern and some of his irritation melted away. "Why are you running about in the middle of the night?" he asked.
Noir flushed. "I just wanted to try the gas burner. Did I wake you up?" he murmured, looking very sorry for himself.
"I am a light sleeper," Solis said.
"I'm very sorry," Noir apologised. "Shall I make you a warm beverage to help you relax?" he offered.
"All right," Solis said. "Help me into my wheelchair. I'll go down with you."
"No need," Noir said, picking him up in his arms easily. "I don't want you to get used to the wheelchair unless it is absolutely essential. It'll have a phycological effect later when you're practising walking again. So, when it's just the two of us, I'll carry you."
Solis didn't quite follow the logic behind that, and Noir didn't want to explain the real reason, either. In any case, both of them didn't mind the touch of the other's skin, so it was fine.
Noir carried Solis downstairs and helped him into a chair from where he could see the kitchen counter easily.
Solis watched with a small smile on his face as Noir turned on the gas burner and warmed up some milk in a saucepan, adding saffron, cardamom and a few more fragrant spices in it, stirring lightly. Then he turned off the flame and added some jaggery in it, stirring vigorously until it blended in.
"You can use the blender to do that," Solis pointed out.
Noir blinked at him in confusion. "Blender? What's that?"
Solis pointed at the rack behind Noir, and Noir fetched it quickly. Solis showed him how to use the hand blender and Noir was appropriately impressed.
A few minutes later, Solis was served a steaming cup of flavoured and spiced sweet milk. He took a sip gingerly, and his grey eyes went wide in shock. This flavour…! Clearly he had never had it before…but why was the taste so familiar, so nostalgic?
"What is this?" Solis asked Noir.
Noir had a faraway smile on his face. "The name does not matter," he murmured. "What matters is whether you like it or not."
Solis felt a twinge in his chest. "It is delicious," he said softly. "I like it very much, thank you. May I have another cup?"
Noir brightened immediately and poured out another cup for him.
Their days passed amicably.
Everyone had been shocked when Noir had moved into Solis's villa. Solis was infamously solitary, and if it hadn't been for his accident and losing the use of his legs, he wouldn't even tolerate the touch of other people. However, now there was this strange young man in weird clothes and carrying around a sword 24/7 – and Solis let him live in his villa…?! What was even more amazing was that this man, who was a complete nincompoop when he arrived, looking at all the gadgets and furnishings and pretty much everything in awe, as if he'd never seen them before, had become adept at using everything within a matter of weeks! He could even drive a car now!
And he had taken over the management of the household for Solis. Most of what went on Solis's plate these days was personally cooked by this new man. He supervised Solis's laundry, often adding strange herbs into a bucket and insisting on the washed clothes being soaked in it before being dried. He made the gardener plant strange weeds in the garden, and even planted some himself. And he was even worse than Solis about letting anyone touch either of them. Any physical assistance Solis required was personally attended to by this man, and the servants who had been hired to help Solis with his bath, ablutions etc. were already dismissed. The two male nurses who were supposed to massage Solis's legs several times a day to keep the muscles from atrophying – they were sent away, too. In short, almost everyone newly hired was gone, and the people who had been working for Solis for many years had been given a thorough run-down. Of course, they knew that Cain's betrayal had shaken Solis's faith in his own people, and the ones who were truly loyal didn't mind an extra check anyway. The ones who objected were usually the ones that had something to hide. And everyone had to admit, Noir's eyes were even sharper than Solis's when it came to weeding out traitors, perhaps because he didn't know anyone personally and could look at people from a neutral perspective.
But no one could deny the positive results of Noir's arrival in Solis's life. It had only been a few weeks, but Solis was already visibly healthier. His skin glowed with the lustre of good nutrition, his previously dull face shone with the vigour of life, and his grey eyes regained the sharpness of a deadly weapon. His legs were improving, too…but not too many people were privy to that bit of information.
Quite a few of Solis's subordinates were convinced that this new man was not just someone working for Solis…but Solis's romantic partner. Solis had never shown any interest in either women or men before, and countless proposals had been rejected over the years. Some of the oldest staff, the ones who had been around since Solis's parents' time, were thrilled with this new development, thinking their young master had finally found a mate!
Solis and Noir, on the other hand, had no idea that they'd already been labelled a couple. They had unconsciously fallen into a steady rhythm of living with each other, and Solis had been quite shocked with how easily Noir had managed to integrate himself into his life. Both of them had a similar feeling of familiarity with the other. Noir was reminded of the time when he was fifteen and his Master had contracted an illness unique to demi-gods. Back then, Noir had to wait upon his Master hand and foot, for the latter had been unable to move for almost two weeks. Thanks to Noir's meticulous care, though, he had recovered soon.
Perhaps it would be the same with Solis, Noir thought.