* * *
“You were sent here to kill me, weren’t you?”
‘No. I came here to die because of you.’
But Ranshel obviously couldn’t say that, so instead, he asked,
“What makes you think that?”
There was no point in denying it.
Zavad wouldn’t believe him anyway, and honestly, Ranshel was curious.
Why was Zavad suddenly accusing him?
What had he done?
‘Not that I’m saying it’s unfair, but still.’
There was something in Zavad’s words that needed to be clarified.
But instead of answering, Zavad clamped his mouth shut again.
Ranshel, growing impatient, pressed on.
“The previous servants—did they try to kill you? The ones before me?”
Zavad’s crimson eyes burned with heat.
“You’re seriously asking me that?”
“Well, if I knew, I wouldn’t be asking, would I?”
Someone tried to assassinate Zavad?
That couldn’t be possible.
Ranshel was sure of it.
No matter how little he knew, this wasn’t something he could be mistaken about.
Because if it had been possible, Zavad wouldn’t have survived until adulthood.
A target character dying before the heroine even met him?
That wasn’t how things worked.
‘Besides, the imperial family must be keeping a close watch on him…’
In this empire, where the emperor was considered the divine representative of God, who would dare threaten his life?
As he pondered, Ranshel suddenly felt an intense gaze.
“….”
Zavad was biting his lip, glaring at him with a stare so fierce that even Ranshel, usually full of confidence, found himself second-guessing things.
‘What the hell is going on?’
He had no clue, and that only made it more frustrating.
Ranshel leaned down slightly, bringing himself to eye level with Zavad, who was a head shorter than him.
“What’s wrong? Did something happen?”
“…”
“Young master?”
Zavad’s eyes wavered violently.
For a moment, his expression was a mix of confusion and hesitation, as if faced with something he couldn’t quite process.
“…Shut up.”
But whatever doubt or bewilderment had momentarily surfaced, it soon hardened into sharp hostility once more.
He gritted his teeth, spitting out his words like venom.
“You think I’ll do what you people want? I will never die. Never.”
‘God, I hope not. At this point, no one wants Zavad to survive more than I do.’
He’s completely misunderstanding something.
But Ranshel had no reason to correct him.
Instead, he merely shrugged.
Clearing up the misunderstanding wouldn’t raise his event contribution, so he might as well let it be.
Zavad’s lips pressed into a firm line at Ranshel’s indifferent reaction.
His eyes still burned with suspicion.
He was convinced that Ranshel knew something and was playing dumb.
Clenching his fists tightly, Zavad sank into his chair.
Ranshel glanced sideways at the table.
The food remained untouched.
It was one thing to be picky, but to refuse to eat at all?
That seemed off.
As a thought crossed his mind, Ranshel hesitated before cautiously asking,
“…Why aren’t you eating?”
“…”
“There’s no poison in it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
As expected.
Zavad’s eyes flared with anger.
“You really think I’d believe that?”
Ranshel almost gaped in shock.
So the reason he’d been starving all morning wasn’t simply because he wasn’t hungry?
‘Did I do something suspicious’
It wasn’t unusual for Zavad to be wary of him, but seeing him this convinced was a little unsettling.
What had he even done since coming here to warrant such suspicion?
The only things he’d done were:
- Bother the kid hiding in the storage cabinet just to mess with him.
- Rummage through all the drawers in the room under the pretense of looking for a medicine box.
- Keep Zavad in his pajamas all day, making it painfully obvious that he was a rookie servant.
‘…That does seem kind of suspicious.’
Though it had only been a short time since he’d found himself in this game, and the original Ranshel had no experience working as a noble’s servant, which naturally led to a lot of mistakes.
But from Zavad’s perspective, there probably wasn’t a more dubious person around.
Well, so what?
Ranshel decided to act shamelessly.
In fact, this was perfect.
Let him doubt all he wanted.
“So, you’re not going to eat?”
“……”
Then he might as well do a taste test.
Ranshel grabbed the small spoon sitting next to the seasoning bottles, scooped up a spoonful of the soup, and shoved it into his mouth.
‘Even when it’s cold, it tastes great.’
He swallowed back a satisfied hum, set the spoon down, and gave a small nod.
“A little more salt would make it even better.”
“……”
He really wanted another spoonful. Ranshel smacked his lips in regret.
Zavad blinked slowly, his expression difficult to describe—almost as if he were looking at some kind of demonic creature.
“You’re really not going to eat?”
“……”
“Then I’ll just eat it all myself?”
Zavad finally moved when Ranshel put down the small spoon and reached for the fork and knife to start a proper meal.
The first thing Zavad did was take a spoonful of the very soup Ranshel had just eaten.
Then, tilting his head slightly, he grabbed the seasoning bottle and added a pinch of salt.
Another tilt of the head followed.
Clink, clatter.
The only sounds in the room were the noises of Zavad’s utensils as he began eating.
Ranshel looked down at the table with a melancholy gaze.
‘I should’ve eaten the meat first…’
He had been sure Zavad wouldn’t eat at all.
Why was he suddenly contradicting himself now?
Ranshel watched regretfully as the food on Zavad’s plate slowly disappeared.
Once the meal was over, Ranshel cleaned up the table.
He had hoped Zavad would leave at least a little behind, but the man finished everything down to the last bite.
With a heavy heart, Ranshel picked up the tray of empty dishes and trudged out of the room.
As he placed the tray back where it had originally been, he heard footsteps coming from the stairs below.
A maid was carrying another tray up.
The woman, looking utterly exhausted as she climbed, widened her eyes when she saw Ranshel.
He gave her a small nod in greeting.
‘So it’s not just me who struggles with these stairs.’
It didn’t seem to be just a matter of stamina.
Maybe there was a way to get Zavad’s room moved for everyone’s sake.
As he absentmindedly pondered this, the maid finally reached the top, and they exchanged trays.
“…Oh?”
The maid, peering down at the empty plates, tilted her head in confusion.
“Something wrong?”
“Oh, no… It’s just that the second young master has never finished a meal so cleanly before.”
“…Really?”
Shit.
Had she figured out that he was planning to sneak a few bites?
That sharp little brat.
Ranshel forced an awkward smile, grumbling internally.
* * *
