The moonlight spilled through the lace-curtained windows of the estate, silvering the velvet and turning shadow into soft threat. Xian was on his way to the garden as promised.
Upon his arrival, the scent of steeped bergamot lingered like perfume, elegant and faintly bitter. The garden lamps flickered low, casting long shadows over cobbled stone and ivy-covered walls.
He found Carmillia seated at an elegant table, a single chair placed opposite her. Behind her, the two swordmaidens stood silently in their dark armor.
The tea had already been set out, yet no maid appeared to serve it. It was then that he took the initiative.
Xian poured the tea into Carmillia’s cup with care. Not a single drop spilled, even as her gaze remained fixed on him, as though observing an amusing trick.
“How dutiful,” she murmured, accepting the cup. “Have you served before?”
Xian had never served a master before, of course. He wasn’t even certain he had done it properly, only repeating what he had practiced under Moris.
“Not before joining the household, my lady,” Xian replied calmly. “But I will strive to meet your expectations.”
He needed to attain a certain standing in her eyes, just enough that she wouldn’t attempt to cast him aside or dispose of him.
“Strive?” Carmillia tilted her head slightly. “That would imply you already understand what those expectations are.” Her tone was light despite the heavy implications of her words.
Xian straightened. “I will listen to your orders, milady, as long as I’m capable of it.” Knowing Carmillia, she would probably say something along the lines of, ‘Then die for me’ or ‘So? Go back from where you came from’ and the like.
Except in this situation. If he remembered correctly, she had never mistreated the two swordmaidens beside her in the game, despite the difficult tasks they went through in various scenes, even recognizing their efforts.
‘Even a villainess had some people she could trust and rely on, huh?’
That meant his act of saving her might not go unacknowledged.
“Do you?” She took a sip from her cup. “Then you must have heard what they call me.”
At least she appeared willing to acknowledge what he had done for her. However, he didn’t answer. Of course, he knew the title she was referring to, a name coined when it became a scandal that she had ordered an execution by beheading, much like his first death.
‘The Guillotine Flower.’ Even if she brought it up, silence was perhaps the best response.
“And still, you claim you are prepared to devote yourself to me? How charming.” She smiled faintly at Xian, who had chosen not to answer, as if she’d read what he thought.
“Why don’t we make a simple exchange?”
“Ask any question and I will answer. You will do the same, and we can both refuse once. No lies, okay?”
The System chimed faintly in his view.
[Conversation Event: A Villainess’s Curiosity]
[Difficulty: High]
[Potential Mood Impact: +30]
[Extra Rewards: ???]
[Wrong answers may lead to torture and execution.]
[Answer the villainess carefully!]
Xian grimaced at the penalty. She had really called for him just to ruin everything again over wrong answers? Also, what was with the ‘torture and execution’? Was he to be interrogated to reveal his darkest secrets, thoughts and objective?
‘All they’re gonna get is me wanting to bed her.’ He wanted to test his newfound strength against this villainess who suspected him and regress while he was at it, but with the swordmaidens present, he had no chance of accomplishing anything.
Xian could only bow his head slightly, still not taking the seat opposite her. “Understood.”
She cupped her cheek against her hand, tilting her head slightly.
“First question. Why do you think my father sent you to me?”
“To serve.” Xian didn’t flinch. He already understood that much about his circumstances.
“That’s all?” Carmillia wasn’t pleased with his curt answer.
“To serve you and learn how to do it well enough.” He decided to offer some impromptu bullshit.
Her eyes glinted, and the mood meter in his vision ticked upward.
[+9 Mood]
“...You can ask your first question now.”
Xian took a discreet, deep breath.
A back-and-forth exchange. One chance to remain silent and without any lies. But even without lying, one could twist the truth with enough manipulation.
‘So in the end, is it still a form of lying?’
“Is milady suspicious of my loyalty?” Xian bet on naivety and forwardness.
Carmillia’s lips curled, and she let out a small, bewitching chuckle. Xian deliberately appeared troubled, since doing so could kill two birds with one stone. It was all in order to put on an ‘act’ for her.
Her answers were secondary. What mattered was the impression his own questions and answers left behind.
For a subordinate to use this chance to clear himself of suspicion was a trap for the naive. Xian deliberately played that naive subordinate: reticent, dutiful, and eager to prove himself useful.
“Of course not. Your quick-wittedness and knowledge saved me. Why would I doubt my savior?”
When Carmillia delivered that line as though she owed him, Xian knew his plan had succeeded.
“Then I’m glad.”
That impression would slowly form in her mind, making her believe she had grasped his nature, one slightly similar to that of the protagonist she enjoyed tormenting so much, giving him a chance to linger by her side longer.
Carmillia surprisingly liked obedient, puppy-dog-like personalities. There was one route in the game where she cornered the protagonist until she was the only person the player could rely upon. Of course, it was a Ruin run, a bad end.
The protagonist became a broken man who was overly reliant on her and, in the end, was discarded and left to die. So he had no plans to do the same, nor did he have the ability to.
“Then it’s my turn. How much do you know about your role?”
Xian considered his answer.
“Only what Sir Morisson has taught me, and that I am a shield to safeguard milady’s life.” If his purpose was only to protect her, then he already understood the broad nature of his role.
But there was a possibility that he was merely a disposable pawn. He couldn’t let Carmillia know that he suspected as much if he wanted to prolong his stay for as long as possible.
“Quite an honest answer. Why didn’t you just say, ‘to be your meat shield, milady,’ fufu.” She beckoned for him to continue the exchange.
‘So she’s aware of how her own servants are being indoctrinated. Insane.’
“Then... how can I earn your trust, my lady?” Xian asked after a moment of thought.
He did want her trust. Whatever answer she gave, however, mattered less than what asking the question suggested about him.
Carmillia was slightly taken aback. “My, you certainly know how to ask questions.”
Xian only bowed in silence, waiting for her answer. Carmillia did not hurry to respond. Instead, she reached for the teapot herself.
Drinking hot tea at night seemed strange to Xian, but maybe not to the nobles of this world.
She gently tilted the teapot before pouring tea into one of the empty cups.
“Well, for starters...” Carmillia set the teapot down. “The other cup is yours, should you choose to take it.”
Her eyes remained fixed sharply on him.
On the table, a set for two had been prepared. But Xian took note that there was no certainty the other cup had originally been meant for him. Even if it was, he shouldn’t get ahead of himself, especially in front of Carmillia.
‘Is it laced with poison?’
He couldn’t help but feel apprehensive. It was Carmillia, after all. His attempt to appear like a naive and determined young man was now being put to the test.
“What’s wrong?” Her smile seemed to provoke him. “Didn’t you want to earn my trust?”
The offer was voluntary, but refusing it could suggest that he didn’t believe in her goodwill. Accepting it, however, meant assuming that he was permitted to share her table.
A traitor would hesitate. Heck, even someone who wasn’t a traitor would. Either response could be interpreted however Carmillia pleased.
Xian felt annoyed. He needed more information about what problem she had with this so-called ‘special butler’ and why she was trying to get rid of him.
Was it to avoid surveillance? The coachman had mentioned that she hated it, and Carmillia clearly knew her father was responsible for sending Xian to her. But she would hardly openly defy the duke over it.
Or was it simply because of his appearance? Next time, he might need to wear a mask before facing her.
Now he was left in a situation where accepting or rejecting the tea could both be used against him. He could only determine which response better suited the impression he wanted to leave.
“Then, pardon...”
Xian halted. His hands twitched as he recalled a memory and a particular fact.
“Pardon my rudeness, but I cannot accept your offer.”
“You’re refusing it?” Carmillia questioned in bewilderment.
Xian hadn't memorized every choice and outcome in Rozenfall, but one particular scene involving Carmillia had remained with him.
It was when she asked for the protagonist's name. That happened when Carmillia’s interest in the protagonist reached its peak. It was significant since she rarely called anyone by their name.
Hence, she also had the habit of giving nicknames to characters because she refused to remember their names. Sometimes, they sounded funny and fitting, so she gained quite a few fans because of it.
Carmillia did not share her table with people she considered beneath her attention, just as she rarely bothered to remember their names.
A faint smile crept onto Xian’s face, making the villainess raise her eyebrows.
“I’m not yet a servant worthy of what you ‘offered’, my lady.” Xian could no longer count how many times he had bowed or how long he had held each bow. “But rest assured that I will prove myself regardless.”
Carmillia’s face completely lost any semblance of reaction. Xian knew what that meant.
‘She’s confused.’
His reasoning was completely justified, yet it had also thrown her off.
Had he not remembered that particular scene, or had his fixation on Carmillia been any weaker, he would have taken the tea and drunk it.
There was probably no poison, but there was an entirely different meaning behind accepting it or silently refusing it.
‘She may have been testing whether I would overstep my boundaries if presented with a chance.’
‘Or whether I would be cautious and afraid of her.’
Neither option offered a certain way out, but this was reality. He could spin the narrative however he wanted, unbound by the choices and responses in the game.
Refusing was not necessarily the correct answer. It was simply the answer most consistent with the impression he wanted to leave.
All it required was a little glibness and pretense.
“Is that so? Then this is my last question.” Carmillia huffed and leaned back in her seat, seemingly in thought.
“How did you know the coachman was a traitor?”
For this part, Xian only needed an explanation that was true yet difficult to verify. Even if she investigated, it would only yield vague results.
“As part of my future duties, I had trained with the coachman. We grew fairly close, and I knew him as someone who took good care of himself. Enough that I found it strange for him to suddenly be out of commission on the very day my lady wished to tour the city.”
And with that, it should be fine. Carmillia had never bothered paying much attention to her servants unless she deemed it necessary, as she did now, and neither had the two swordmaidens by her side.
She could ask Moris, but knowing him, his answer would likely not satisfy her.
Carmillia regarded him silently, awaiting the final question owed to him.
“Then my final question, my lady.” Xian straightened slightly. “Do you intend to keep me as your butler?”
Her expression did not change, but the amusement in her eyes faded. For several moments, she merely studied him over the rim of her cup.
“I decline to answer.”
Carmillia set the cup down upon its saucer.
“That concludes our exchange.” She rose from her seat. “It’s late. I’ll be retiring to my quarters, so leave.”
[Event Complete!]
[Mood Impact: +30]
[Bonus Mood: +15]
[Items Received]
[Recall Ticket]
[Prying Lens]
[Thread Watch Ticket]
Author's Note
YuzaiRearu
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