As I gazed at my reflection in the mirror, a wave of nervousness washed over me.
Today was the day—the day I would be attending the same academy as the young miss.
No matter how many times I replayed the events in my mind, I still couldn't quite believe what was happening.
A commoner like me, going to the royal academy—it seemed like an impossible dream. If the duchess and the duke had planned for me to attend any other academy, I would have been content.
But deep down, I knew that wasn't true. Despite my initial reservations, the prospect of being by the young miss's side, even within the walls of the academy, filled me with excitement.
We had only ever seen each other once a month each year since she started attending the academy.
Now that we would be classmates, seeing each other regularly shouldn't be so difficult.
The thought of it brought a smile to my lips, despite my lingering nerves.
As I examined my uniform in the mirror, I couldn't help but marvel at how perfectly it fit.
The duchess must have planned this from a long time ago, ensuring that every detail was just right.
It was a small gesture, but it filled me with a sense of gratitude and appreciation for the opportunities that lay ahead.
As my mind buzzed with thoughts about the day ahead, I realized something peculiar—I hadn't experienced any nightmares the previous night, nor had the demonic face appeared while I bathed.
The blood-soaked world that had haunted my dreams seemed to have faded into the background.
Everything was oddly peaceful, almost too perfect for my liking.
But truth be told, I welcomed the respite from my usual anxieties. It felt like I didn't have to worry about anything for once.
"Taylor... are you done?" Sebas's voice broke through my reverie, pulling me back to reality. He must have been waiting for me outside.
"Yes, I'm coming out now," I replied, gathering my belongings and double-checking to ensure the letter the principal had given me was securely hidden beneath my clothes.
The duke had emphasized its importance, instructing me never to lose it if I wanted to enter the academy without any trouble. I couldn't afford to forget it.
Opening the door, I was greeted by Sebas's familiar gentle smile.
Despite his age, he was the backbone of this household, ensuring everything ran smoothly even in the duke's neglect and the duchess's inexperience during the early days of the house's fame.
'Sebas Moriarity' the head butler of House Kraus, was a stalwart presence in my life.
If the duke was my greatly hated father figure Sebas was my dearly beloved grandfather.
"Let's go," I said to him, and he nodded in response, falling into step beside me as we headed out together.
….
As I descended the stairs, I found the duke and duchess already waiting for me.
With a respectful bow of my head, I began to apologize for my tardiness, but the duchess interrupted before I could finish.
"Now, now, don't act like a butler, Taylor," she chided gently. "You're about to become a student at Abel Academy. As a member of such a prestigious school, you are not bound to bow to anyone under the emperor's authority."
"But—" I attempted to interject, only to be cut off by her raised hand.
"Ah, ah, no 'buts'," she insisted firmly.
"As you wish, duchess," I replied, acquiescing to her wishes. Her smile widened at my compliance, her enthusiasm for my enrollment at the academy palpable.
But deep down, I couldn't help but feel a sense of discomfort at her excitement. Sure, she might believe that the authority and prestige of the emperor extended to the students of Abel Academy, but in reality, it meant very little.
At the end of the day, I was still their family's butler, not a noble by birth. The notion of being treated as an equal by the students of the academy felt somewhat hollow, considering my humble origins.
As I stood before the duke, bracing myself for yet another round of insults, he began his usual tirade. "You look dumber than ever, brat! This is wh—" His words were cut short by a sudden cry of pain, and I couldn't help but smirk as I glanced at the duchess.
Beneath his pants, I noticed a strange phenomenon—smoke-like frost and a chilling breeze emanated from below. Did the duchess just freeze his... well, you know?
"Please don't mind my husband's words, Taylor," the duchess interjected, her tone soothing and reassuring. "He's just sad to see you go as well."
I couldn't help but stifle a laugh as I glanced at the duke, who was clearly struggling to contain his agony. Our eyes met, and I could see the silent threat in his gaze—just wait, you brat!
Ignoring the duke's grumbling to my left, I waited patiently alongside them for the young miss. Sometimes, ignoring one's opponent is the best way to get under their skin, and it seemed to be working like a charm.
The duke attempted to launch into another round of insults, but his words were drowned out by another cry of pain.
It seemed this gorilla of a man just didn't learn—or perhaps he simply enjoyed the taste of his own medicine.
Whatever the case may be, could he not see how pathetic he looked right now?
Time seemed to drag on as we waited, the tension between the duke and me simmering beneath the surface. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the young miss appeared. As she descended the stairs, my eyes widened in surprise.
I had seen her in her uniform before when she was a first-year student, but something about her appearance now took my breath away.
The subtle changes in her attire, the gentle braids framing her face, and the slight physical transformation—all combined to make her look like a completely different person from the last time I had seen her. She appeared more beautiful than ever.
As she greeted the duchess and the duke, her eyes eventually found mine.
I noticed a flicker of surprise in her expression, and I made a mental note to remember this moment—the way she looked, the way her eyes sparkled with astonishment. She was always cute, and seeing her now, I couldn't help but marvel at her beauty.
It occurred to me then that this might be the first time we were meeting after she had been avoiding me for quite some time.
No doubt, she was still finding the situation awkward, just as I was. But despite the awkwardness, there was something undeniably special about this moment, and I was determined to cherish it for as long as I could.
"Good morning, Young miss," I greeted her, but to my surprise, there was no response.
"…."
"Young miss…?"
"…."
She just stared at me with wide eyes, the silence in the room becoming palpable with the sudden awkwardness.
I hoped she was just surprised, but deep down, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.
The duchess hurriedly interjected, attempting to lighten the mood, but I couldn't shake the unease gnawing at me.
Was the young miss mad at me?
Why?
What had I done wrong?
I wracked my brain for answers, but nothing came to mind.
All I knew was that the atmosphere had shifted, and I couldn't ignore it.
The sound of neighing horses outside brought me back to reality, and I forced myself to push aside my overthinking and focus on the present.
"You two should go. You wouldn't want to be late for the entrance ceremony, especially you, Taylor," the duchess urged, breaking the tense silence.
With a nod and a bow, the young miss and I made our way to the carriage. "Young miss, your hand," I offered, but she remained silent, her gaze fixed on me.
Seriously what was going on?
She finally nodded and accepted my hand, but I couldn't shake the feeling of unease.
Her hand trembled in mine, and I couldn't help but wonder—what had I done to make her react like this?
Was seeing me naked that traumatizing to her?
As we traveled along in the carriage, different scenes passed by outside—each one beautiful in its own right. But inside the carriage, the atmosphere felt suffocating. The young miss continued to ignore me, not even bothering to reply to my attempts at conversation.
"Um, young miss, it's quite a beautiful morning, isn't it?" I tried, but received no response.
"…."
"Wow, young miss, aren't those a group of bards? I wonder what songs they'll bring to the city," I remarked, hoping to spark some kind of reaction, but again, silence.
"…."
Even when I attempted to compliment her—one of the few weaknesses I knew she had—she remained unresponsive.
"Young miss, you look so beautiful today,"
"…."
I said, but still, no reply, only a slight twitch.
But after seeing that twitch, I knew I was getting close… at least now I knew she wasn't downright ignoring me.
It's only a hunch but I knew I was getting close to her breaking point.
"Young miss, I'm sure the prince will fall in love all over again once he sees you like this,"
I ventured, hoping to lighten the mood.
"…."
But the moment the words left my lips, I knew I had made a mistake.
Despite her efforts to conceal it, I could sense her anger simmering beneath the surface.
I sighed inwardly, feeling utterly perplexed by her behavior.
Why was she getting angrier? What had I done to provoke such a reaction?
As the silence stretched on, punctuated only by the rhythmic clatter of the carriage wheels against the road, I couldn't help but feel a sense of frustration and confusion.
'Haah... I really can't understand this.'
As time passed, the expansive walls of Krasius, the city ruled by the duke, came into view outside the carriage window. It was not just any city—it was a domain managed by the duke of Kraus, where the young miss held a position akin to a princess.
Soon, we would approach the towering structure at the city center, a colossal sphere-like tower known as the gate.
This magical engineering marvel served as a teleportation hub, facilitating the swift transportation of people and goods across vast distances. It was instrumental in expediting global trade and travel.
As we drew nearer to the city, a nagging feeling gnawed at me. Was this silence going to persist? I couldn't bear the thought of it. Summoning all my courage, I decided to confront the issue head-on.
"Young miss, are you still not planning to talk to me...?" I ventured, hoping for some kind of response.
Silence.
"Um... I know what happened was shameful, but it was just an accident, right?" I pressed on, my voice tinged with desperation.
Still, silence prevailed.
My heart sank. Despite my efforts to break the ice, the young miss remained steadfast in her silence.
It was clear that resolving this rift between us would not be easy, but I was determined to try, no matter what it took.
"Haha… I should stop now right young miss? I'm sorry for bothering you like that"
"…."
Try as I might, nothing seemed to break through the barrier of silence between us.
With a heavy sigh, I turned my gaze towards the window. Pondering over the situation too much would likely only exacerbate her feelings towards me.
Perhaps it was time to give up, to accept that things might never be the same between us.
But just as I was resigning myself to this realization, her voice cut through the silence like a beacon of hope. "T-Taylor, you look so handsome...!" she exclaimed, her words echoing in the carriage.
"Ahhh!!!" she gasped immediately after, her embarrassment evident as she tried to conceal her flushed face with her hands.
What was happening? Did she just... talk to me?
A small smile tugged at the corners of my lips. "Haha—yes, yes, thank you, young miss," I replied, trying to hide my own surprise.
"You look stunningly beautiful as well, young miss."
Though her words were simple and something I had heard countless times before, there was a sincerity behind them that warmed my heart.
It felt oddly satisfying to exchange these few words, as if a small barrier between us had finally begun to crumble.
As I looked at the young miss, a sense of renewed optimism washed over me. Suddenly, the world around us seemed to expand, filled with endless possibilities.
It felt as refreshing as the breeze of a spring wind, and for the first time in a while, I allowed myself to hope that things might be looking up.
The future that lay ahead for the young miss was vast and promising, stretching high above the skies.
She was destined for greatness—authority, power, and influence awaited her.
And as I contemplated this inevitable ascent, I couldn't help but acknowledge the possibility that I would eventually be left behind.
But strangely, I found that I didn't care.
'As long as I can be a part of your world'
That was all that mattered to me.
The duke had once told me that my world was the only true possession I could ever hope to have. And so, I clung to the hope that she was my world—that somehow, I would always have a place by her side.
Then, without warning, the scenery before me shifted. Instead of the carriage and the bustling city outside, I found myself immersed in a serene landscape—a wooden cottage surrounded by the gentle breeze of a cool, sunny day, with the scent of flowers wafting through the air.
And there I was, sitting on the porch, lost in a book, with a child by my side—a child with hair as fiery red as mine.
"Papa, tell me about—" the child began, but before I could catch a clear glimpse of her face, the vision faded, and I was back in the carriage, with my young miss standing before me, her eyes filled with remorse.
"Taylor, I'm sorry..." she murmured, her voice heavy with guilt.
I shook my head, trying to dispel her apology. "Ah, no, young miss. I told you never to apologize to me."
"But it was my fault," she insisted.
As I attempted to soothe her troubled conscience, my mind couldn't help but linger on the glimpse of the world I had seen—a world where I was not just a servant, but a father, with a family of my own.