In a vast hall adorned with centuries of Rothschild grandeur, Friedrich and Victoria stood alone, their presence filling the enormous space. Ancient tapestries and gleaming armor lined the walls, silent witnesses to countless secret conversations between the realm's most powerful couple.
"How's the situation on the front lines?" Victoria asked, her voice carrying the weight of someone who once commanded armies herself.
Friedrich's expression darkened. "It's not getting any better," he replied, fatigue evident in his usually commanding voice. "We also have to keep an eye on the empire. They're expanding their influence in the kingdom." His fingers traced absent patterns on the ornate armrest of his chair.
"Did the king say anything?" Victoria's eyes narrowed, already anticipating the answer.
"Yes, but not really. Just the usual political statements." Friedrich's dismissive tone spoke volumes. "I'm guessing he wants to use this situation to weaken the strength of those noble houses." The implication hung heavy in the air - their king was playing a dangerous game of noble politics while external threats loomed.
Victoria nodded in understanding before her expression shifted to something more personal, more concerned. "About Ambrose..." she began, as their respective barriers expanded - her spatial shield and his temporal wall creating an impenetrable pocket of privacy.
…
Meanwhile, in a marble-lined bathhouse that could have easily housed a small party, Ambrose sat in steaming water while a maid attended to him. Despite his discomfort at the intimate situation, it wasn't his first time being cared for by others and thus had somewhat desensitized him to such assistance.
He carefully studied the maid who was helping him bathe. His enhanced senses picked up details that would have escaped ordinary notice.
The maid was far from ordinary. Her short black hair framed features that were more handsome than traditionally beautiful, and beneath her seemingly delicate appearance lay carefully concealed strength. Well-defined muscles rippled subtly beneath her skin with each movement, betraying years of training. But what truly caught Ambrose's attention was the shocking revelation - he had seen her face before, on the cover of the mysterious book that had brought him to this world.
His mind raced with possibilities. In his extensive reading of novels, cover characters were typically either protagonists or their closest allies, occasionally featuring the main antagonist. The fact that this maid appeared on the cover while Ambrose - the heir to one of the most powerful families - did not, sent warning bells ringing through his mind.
Drawing from countless similar stories, he constructed a likely scenario: in the original plot, Ambrose was probably an arrogant young master who mistreated this talented but hidden maid until she eventually discovered her power, escaped to a magic academy, and returned for revenge - a classic tale of the oppressed rising against their oppressor.
"Young master?" The maid's nervous voice broke through his analysis, her discomfort at his prolonged stare evident.
"Oh! It's nothing, I was just spacing out," he replied smoothly, while his mind continued plotting. If she was indeed destined for greatness, cultivating her favor now, before she discovered her true potential, could prove invaluable. "What's your name?" he asked, carefully crafting a gentle smile that would have fooled anyone who couldn't read the calculating thoughts behind it.
In his mind, pieces were already falling into place. The original Ambrose's constant unconsciousness had inadvertently prevented the typical young master tragedy from unfolding. Now, with his modern knowledge and careful manipulation, he could turn this potential enemy into a powerful ally - assuming his deductions were correct. The game of politics and survival had begun, and he intended to play it perfectly.
…
Sun Hualing stood nervously before her young master, fighting back an involuntary shiver. What he probably thought was a kind smile reminded her more of a predator eyeing its prey - a butcher's smile directed at a helpless rabbit. She quickly shook away such unsettling thoughts. After all, she maintained a rigorous training regimen despite not having awakened any talents yet. The young master was known for his weakness, so her fears were surely unfounded... right?
Gathering her composure, she introduced herself with practiced grace, "My name is Sun Hualing, written with the Sun (孙) for my surname, and my given name uses the characters Hua (华) for 'splendid' and Ling (玲) for 'bell.'" Her bow was precise, betraying years of formal training that seemed at odds with her current position.
Ambrose's analytical mind immediately latched onto the peculiarities of her name. The Eastern naming convention echoed his original world's Chinese customs - a stark contrast to the Avaloria Kingdom's Western-style nomenclature. For a moment, he entertained the possibility that she might be a fellow transmigrator, but quickly dismissed it as too coincidental. While such names were rare in the kingdom, they weren't unheard of, particularly among those from the Empire.
Yet something about her bearing didn't align with Imperial origins either. It wasn't like he'd seen any people from the empire anyway, he just assumed that they'd look asian because of the names.
Her introduction carried the polish of nobility, despite her current station. His mind crafted various scenarios: a noble from a fallen house? No, the Empire's social structure didn't mirror the kingdom's noble system. A runaway princess escaping an arranged marriage? He studied her features - her handsome countenance might seem princely now, but he could envision her in royal regalia and longer hair, cutting quite the striking figure.
"Young master?" Her voice pulled him from his reverie once again. It was the second time she had caught him staring. He hoped she didnt think he was weird.
"Ah, it's my first time hearing a name like that. Where are you from?" he probed gently. His enhanced perception caught the minute tensing of her shoulders, the barely perceptible shift in her stance - clear signs of discomfort with the question.
Her obvious reluctance to reveal her origins only fueled his curiosity. While his observations suggested she wasn't a spy, her presence in the Rothschild household raised questions. How had someone so obviously out of place been accepted into such a security-conscious family?
How could his father let such a suspicious person near his son? Or did his father know something about her true identity and just didn't care? If that was the case, then it would mean that at least she wasn't an immediate threat.
Recognizing that pushing too hard might backfire, Ambrose softened his approach. "You don't have to say if you don't want to," he offered graciously.
"Young master..." she began, fingers clutching at her dress for courage. "Actually… I…"
Before she could continue, Ambrose pressed a finger gently to her lips, offering a disarming smile. "It's okay, you can tell me when you're ready." The intimate gesture and gentle words sent blood rushing to her cheeks, earning a vigorous nod from the flustered maid.
Seizing the moment, Ambrose pressed his advantage. "From now on, you'll be my personal maid, okay?" He watched as she nodded automatically, too overwhelmed to fully process what she'd agreed to.
Ambrose suppressed a satisfied smirk. He'd secured a potentially powerful piece for his game board. With proper guidance, her eventual awakening could prove invaluable to his survival. Even though he had his family guards to protect him, they were just loyal to his father.
It was also good to have his own people and he planned to start with her. "Speaking of awakening…" the thought of awakening triggered another memory, and as he stepped from the bath, he called out: "Status."