THDMC l CH 10

Chapter 10

As always, the Duke sat neatly dressed in his black uniform, calmly flipping through documents at his desk.

“Shasha.”

“Yes?”

“You should knock before coming in.”

“Oh—sorry!”

…Too much enthusiasm ruins everything.

I quickly stepped back out, knocked twice, and re-entered.

“…Come in.”

“Good morning, my lord!”

“….”

He let out a sigh, half-looking at me, his hand frozen mid-page.

Well, what was done was done.
Might as well brazen it out.

Since I had cleaned this office once already, today’s cleaning went smoothly.

As I was polishing the marble near the window, his quiet murmur mixed with the sound of rustling papers.

“Now that I think about it… the horses have been looking weak.”

…Ah!

Another thing I could do!

My eyes lit up as I stared at the Duke’s perfectly sculpted head.

***

After cleaning the Duke’s room, I headed straight to the stables.

“Kelp, Shika.”

“…Yes, Head Maid.”

A hasty reply came, though their footsteps were sluggish.

A wet, squelching sound grew louder, along with the smell of horse dung. I almost pinched my nose but stopped.

They were working hard. It would be rude to hold my nose in front of them.

Kelp and Shika—sweat dripping down their horse-like faces—shuffled toward me.

A quick glance showed the front of the stables was mostly cleaned.

But cleaning wasn’t really the main issue here.

“Are the horses eating their feed now?”

“….”

The two of them avoided my eyes. Then Shika jabbed Kelp in the side.

“Aagh!” Kelp let out a dramatic cry—way too loud for just a poke.

“Um, sorry about that,” Kelp mumbled.

“So… they’re still not eating? And you don’t know why?”

“…Yes.”

I sighed and studied their faces.

These two were why I’d assigned the stables to them in the first place—because they had horse heads. Literally. Human bodies, horse faces.

At first they protested. Why should we shovel dung just because we look like horses?!

But then they saw Jameson mopping with his tentacles, and quietly went off to shovel without another word.

Since then, they’ve done their work without complaint.

But apparently, they weren’t exactly good at dealing with actual horses…

“Wait—don’t tell me. You two can’t even talk to them?”

“Excuse me? We’re not horses.”

“Oh—sorry.”

“Our origin is the sea! We are not such lowly creatures of the land—”

“Mmgh!”

Shika quickly clamped a hand over Kelp’s mouth.

Kelp’s eyes went wide, realizing he’d said too much.

I crossed my arms.

This is a problem.

If I wanted to report good news to the Duke, the horses had to recover quickly.

But what could I do if they didn’t understand horse language?

I sighed and shook my head.

“In that case, I’ll just have to tell the Duke. If you can’t talk to the horses, there’s nothing—”

“No! We can do it!”

“…Huh?”

That was Shika. The usually quiet one.

He clenched his fist, marched toward the stalls, and then—

“■☐? ■☐☐☐■■☐!”

Weird noises spilled from his mouth.

The horses neighed and kicked wildly, as if shouting back at him.

Whoa. They really are talking…

So much for “not horses.” Their heads weren’t just for show.

The bizarre “conversation” dragged on for quite a while.

Finally, Shika returned—his head covered in feed.

“It’s done.”

“What?”

“It’s hopeless. I didn’t understand a word.”

“….”

Wait, so what was all that shouting? An argument?

Apparently, yes. The horses had kicked a bucket of feed at him in anger.

“…Hold on.”

That feed caught my eye. The color looked… wrong.

“How long has this feed been sitting here?”

“Uh…”

Both of them looked at me blankly.

I grabbed a handful from Shika’s head and held it up.

Shika answered without hesitation.

“About… three hundred years?”

“…WHAT?!”

The feed crumbled to dust between my fingers.

Of course.

No wonder the feed wasn’t yellow anymore—it was practically purple.

And I’d thought it just looked colorful.

“Three hundred years old?! And the horses are still alive?!”

“Well… yes, somehow.”

“This is it. The horses are weak because of the feed!”

I slapped my forehead.

I needed to tell the Duke right away.

How could they not think to replace feed for three hundred years?!

Still, at least now I had a solution.

I hurried out of the stable, clutching my aching head.

***

The next morning.

It was sunny, peaceful, and quiet.

Until—

“AAARGHHHH!”

…Okay, maybe not so quiet.

What in the world was that scream?

I thought maybe I misheard, but then I saw Kelp staggering toward me.

His boots were caked in dirt—or maybe worse.

“…I just cleaned that floor!”

One of the garden cleaners shrieked nearby.

But Kelp ignored everyone, his eyes fixed only on me.

“Head Maid! It’s… it’s terrible!”

“What happened?”

“The stables! You have to come! Right now!”

What on earth had him so panicked?

I ran after him, heart pounding.

When we arrived, Shika was standing like a statue, staring up at something.

I followed his gaze—

And saw it.

Mountains of feed.

Stacked as tall as the stables themselves.

Two enormous piles, overflowing.

Sensing me, Shika turned around. Hope flickered in his eyes.

“Head Maid, you’re here! The delivery man just… dropped it all and ran away!”

“Wow, so fast! He delivered in just one day?”

“…What? Surely no one ordered this much?”

“The Duke must have.”

There was no butler. Of course the Duke had ordered it himself.

“….”

“Kelp, Shika, please carry it inside.”

“All of this?!”

“Yes. The Duke doesn’t make mistakes.”

He probably just ordered generously.

“…Should we… ask if it was an error?”

“No.”

The hope in their eyes died instantly. Wordlessly, they began hauling the mountains of feed inside.

I watched them proudly.

See? No problem. Why the panic?

Work was getting done, and supplies had arrived.

Besides, wasn’t it amazing the order had come in so fast? One day!

Yesterday, I had rushed to the Duke’s office, begging him to replace the feed.

It was three hundred years old, practically purple.

I thought he’d be shocked. Horrified.

Instead, he just narrowed his eyes.

“The feed should be fine…”

Excuse me?! Who feeds 300-year-old food to horses?!

For a moment, my rose-colored glasses almost cracked.

But then I reminded myself: of course the Duke wouldn’t know.

He’d never left this mansion. He must have had a trauma about his face. Naturally, he lacked common knowledge.

Living with monsters all this time probably warped his sense of normal.

Yes, my Duke is innocent!

So I carefully explained: feed doesn’t last centuries, food shouldn’t turn purple, and eating purple food usually meant death.

At last, he nodded.

“Very well. Replace it with a new feed.”

And then—he even thanked me.

And smiled.

The sunset had streamed through the office window right then, making his smile glow.

I’d nearly dropped to my knees in awe.

Once the horses recover, the Duke will be so pleased.

As I thought of yesterday, I glanced at his office window.

And right then—

Hiiiiiing!

A loud neighing sound was heard from behind.