61. āSo youāre getting special treatment by seducing the young lady?ā
āThis is exactly why one-way communication is a problem.ā
The fatal flaw of telepathy.
Kaiāen and I operate on completely different schedules.
āDuring the day, I deal with his daytime personality; at night, his nighttime personality. When am I supposed to sleep?ā
Just a few days after bringing Kaiāen along, the dark circles under my eyes had already reached my knees, and I was living in chronic exhaustion.
āThis wonāt do.ā
Last night, the telepathy alarm had woken me several times.
Do I have to suffer through round-the-clock messages even in an era without smartphones?
[Who are you treating like an abusive employer?]
[Handle household matters with the daytime personality.]
I started to type a brief reply but then closed the telepathy input window.
āIf I send a message now, the daytime personality will receive it anyway.ā
There was a time difference between the nighttime personality and me.
It would be faster for me to handle things directly rather than wait for him to wake up.
āThis is going to take more effort than I thought.ā
Someday, heāll have to repay this debt.
I decided to step in personally to grant the nighttime personalityās wish.
āOutdoors today, I see?ā
āYes, milady. With summer approaching, thereās much to be done outside as well.ā
After breakfast, I followed the head butler outside the dukeās estate.
The sun hadnāt yet reached its midday intensity.
Servants moved in perfect unison, scrubbing the estateās exterior walls or assisting gardeners with weeding.
Although they didnāt blatantly slack off while I watched, I could feel them sneaking glances at me.
The head butler spoke quietly, so only I could hear.
āMost servants find garden maintenance and exterior cleaning more difficult than indoor chores. And now that the weatherās warmer, itās even worse.ā
Sure enough, a few were already squinting under the sun.
Some exhausted servants rested in the shade, but the overseer scolded them to stop lazing around and return to work.
āEven with tasks everyone avoids, Kaiāen works diligently, milady.ā
The head butler spoke with satisfaction, like a proud parent.
Kaiāen was cleaning the exterior windows. Thick beads of sweat ran down his throat.
His cheeks were sunburned red, and his uniform was soaked through with sweat.
Yet he scrubbed with fervor, seemingly unaware of the effort.
āA well-raised Kaiāen is worth more than ten servants.ā
The windows he cleaned were spotless, practically sliding-clean, and the frames gleamed.
That must have taken a considerable amount of time.
āWhen did he start cleaning the exterior walls?ā I asked.
āOfficial work hours begin at 8 a.m., but Kaiāen starts cleaning alone at dawn.ā
āReally?ā
āEven normally, Kaiāen is the first to start tasks, taking initiative wherever he can.ā
āEven though it doesnāt come with extra pay, whyā¦?ā
The butler praised him, but knowing Kaiāenās double life, I couldnāt help but feel puzzled.
Why take on extra work, voluntarily, from the crack of dawn?
āIsnāt this pushing himself too hard?ā
Two souls, one body. I doubted he was sleeping properly.
There was a fanaticism to him that couldnāt be explained simply as aptitude or liking the work.
āNo wonder the nighttime personality complains of dermatitis.ā
If he continued overworking like this, his entire bodyānot just his handsāwould suffer.
To solve the nighttime personalityās difficulties and protect the daytime personalityās work-life balance, I would have to step in personally.
āHead butler, heās done enough cleaning. Letās teach him something new.ā
āWhy me? No! Iām not cleaningā!ā
A department transfer.
At Roseliaās thunderous declaration, Kaiāen fell into despair, as if the sky had collapsed.
He clutched the cleaning tools close to his chestāthe microfiber duster Roselia had given him not long ago.
He tried curling up in the corner of the quarters, but two guards grabbed his arms.
āItās miladyās order.ā
āNoā!ā
Dragged helplessly by the two men, he was only released upon reaching the kitchen.
āā¦ā¦?ā
He had planned to return to his original duties by any means, even causing a scene, but his mind went blank for a moment.
The savory aroma of a whole roasted duck and meat stew filled his nostrils.
The sizzling of bacon and sausages frying pricked his ears.
Gulp.
Cleaning be damnedāhis mouth watered.
Once his resistance faded, the guards took him straight to the kitchen.
The chefs were busy preparing meals, while the maid assistants rushed about carrying dishes and washing.
In the chaos, the baker, Emily, approached him.
āSo youāre the new kitchen servant! Iām Emily, here to teach you the kitchen work. Nice to meet you.ā
A plump, kindly middle-aged woman, her hair smelling faintly of butter.
Though enthusiastic about training a newcomer, Kaiāenās attention was elsewhere.
He looked around, fascinated by the smells of the food wafting from every corner.
Only after nearly bumping into a chef moving a hot pan did he snap back to reality.
āStep aside, will you?ā
āā¦ā¦!ā
āWhat are you staring at? Donāt daze off in the kitchen or youāll get hurt.ā
Emily grabbed him firmly, tugging him along.
āCome on, donāt just stand there, follow me!ā
Three hours later.
Kaiāen, who had been dragged to the kitchen with a long face, returned to the break area elated.
Instead of cleaning tools, his arms now carried a bounty of bread.
[Today youāll learn baking. Normally, kitchen assistants start with chores like washing dishesā¦]
[But milady Roselia requested this, so weāll begin with something easier.]
He attempted baking enthusiastically, but having never cooked before, he could only move like a wooden puppet following Emilyās instructions.
Still, under the guidance of a veteran baker, the results were quite impressive:
Soft pumpkin pies that crumbled perfectly with each bite.
Fluffy, moist cream puffs.
Tarts filled with sweet and tart lemon filling.
Seeing the freshly baked bread, Emily said kindly:
[All of this is yours.]
[Milady said itās a reward for all your hard work so far.]
Roselia had heard that Kaiāenās daytime personality caused problems with its voracious appetite, so she reassigned him to the kitchen.
Baking gave him a greater sense of fulfillment than anticipated.
[Stop! Only one cup of flour. Not more, not less.]
[Bake for exactly the right amount of time. Underbake and the dough tastes raw; overbake and it burns.]
Baking was all about patience and moderation.
But Kaiāen had always lived on the edge between life and deathāwaiting calmly for food was impossible.
If he didnāt eat immediately, he didnāt know when the next meal would come.
A primal fear of starvation consumed him.
He often struggled with the urge to snatch undercooked dough from the oven.
Yet after a while, the warm, sweet scent soothed his fear.
The pale dough turned golden brown, glistening on the surface.
Seeing the perfectly risen bread, his heart swelled.
[Here, this is yours. Itās almost break time, so take it and eat.]
Mine.
Holding the glossy basket of bread, Kaiāen felt like he had the world.
He bowed repeatedly to Emily and rushed to the break area, devouring the bread with both hands.
There was no time to savor it.
Sweet and salty flavors collided in his mouth.
He shoveled in the bread to fill the unrelenting void in his stomach.
Since his first memory, he had always been alone.
Abandoned by his parents and sold into slavery for mere coins.
Although pitiful, everyone around him was in similar circumstances.
All were hungry, often sick, with no proper adults.
Heād caught rats, drunk muddy water, collapsed from hunger, and even fought for scraps. Eventually, he grew tired of fighting, often staring blankly for long stretches.
Every day was despairāso much so that no day felt worse than another.
A constant, deep hunger filled the emotional void.
No matter how much he devoured, the emptiness never left.
Kaiāen stuffed himself until his stomach was full and finally slowed his frantic hands.
Some bread still remained in the basket.
Gulp.
His physical hunger was satisfied, but the craving for food remained.
A primal fear surgedāif he didnāt eat immediately, he might die.
Just as he was about to shove more bread into his mouth, Emilyās words came to mind:
[Donāt eat it all at onceāshare with your friends. If itās not enough, come get more.]
[Milady worries about you and wants to make sure you never lack food.]
Slowly, his hands lowered from the bread.
āā¦ā¦.ā
The bread was still warm.
Though he wasnāt yet ready to share it, the frenzied craving had calmed slightly.
He gazed at the remaining bread, then carried the basket out of the break area.
Then, a servant standing crookedly by the door spoke up:
āHey, so itās trueāyou get special treatment by seducing the young lady?ā