Episode 6
She couldn’t move an inch, as if she’d been run over by a cart.
With a few strained whimpers, Staria finally managed to open her eyes—and spotted a rainbow.
Red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.
The strange pattern on the ceiling was inlaid with colorful stones. Not only were they large, but their sparkle was exceptional.
It looked like a real rainbow, and she wanted to touch it. If only her arms were longer, she could have reached. She was mesmerized by the vivid colors for just a moment before realizing that she wasn’t lying in the hut anymore.
Where am I?
She was sure she had fallen asleep on the mold-covered wooden floor, yet now she was in a soft, fluffy bed.
While she was looking around in confusion at the change in sleeping arrangements, she sensed someone’s presence.
“You’re awake.”
In an unfamiliar place, meeting an unfamiliar person, it was only natural to be on guard.
Staria yanked the blanket over her head.
“You’re startled, I see.”
When the man stepped back, her wariness eased a little. A pair of big round eyes peeked out from under the blanket.
“Pleased to meet you, I am Taylor.”
His hair was combed so neatly not a single strand was out of place. He wore a crisply ironed vest with a bow tie and white gloves. Standing perfectly straight, he looked like a proper gentleman. Perhaps it was the monocle that made him remind her of the strict old village chief.
“It’s a great relief. You had a fever for five days straight, and I was very worried.”
Five days? Had she really been unconscious that long?
Staria couldn’t quite grasp what day it was.
“My lord brought you here after finding you unconscious, miss. This is my lord’s castle.”
The pale color of Staria’s face turned even paler.
“This castle, if I may say, was built five thousand years ago and has been passed down from ruler to ruler of the forest. It came into my lord’s possession forty-five years ago, when he won it in the Leader’s Deciding Duel as a prize of victory. He hadn’t even awakened his powers back then—remarkable, isn’t it?”
His voice carried genuine admiration, and he didn’t seem to expect a reply, for his chatter continued without pause.
“My lord had planned to leave the castle vacant, but I persuaded him otherwise. During his adventuring days, I once accompanied him to a lord’s castle, and I was so captivated by it that I longed to manage such a place myself. Ah, I wasn’t appointed through any underhanded means, mind you—fair and square. The competition was fierce, but the position of eighth butler-chief was naturally mine. I was the only candidate possessing virtue, intellect, and physique all in one, so the result was a foregone conclusion.”
Taylor twirled his mustache proudly and went on with his self-praise.
“Our race lives such long lives that, compared to the castle’s history, the butler-chief lineage is short. My predecessor, in particular, enjoyed robust health and served for nearly nine hundred years. I have no intention of staying that long. When a successor appears, I will step aside gracefully. Though between us, the previous butler insisted he could serve even longer, right until he was forcibly dragged away… what an unsightly sight that was.”
There was probably some useful information hidden among his torrent of words, but none of it reached Staria’s ears.
What do I do, what do I do…
She already felt she was a nuisance—and now she had caused even more trouble.
She had barely managed to secure permission to stay in the forest… If she got on their bad side, she might be thrown out. That fear made her heart shrink smaller and smaller.
While she fidgeted with the hem of her tunic, glancing about nervously, her chin was suddenly tilted upward.
“Why do you still look so sickly?”
“…!”
A man’s hand grasped her small chin, tilting her head side to side.
Perhaps it was his silver hair and piercing blue eyes, but for some reason, he didn’t feel entirely unfamiliar. His features were almost divine—like a god who had accidentally chosen the wrong gender.
Exaggerating? Hardly. Children’s eyes are often the most accurate, you know.
Just like Morgana, the beauty standards of the forest’s residents were sky-high.
Could it be… him?
Her question was answered at once.
“My lord, you shouldn’t handle her so roughly.”
At Taylor’s rebuke, the man loosened his grip on her chin.
“I wasn’t even holding her that tightly.”
“Even so, it can be too much for a lady.”
“Then maybe I shouldn’t touch her at all?”
“That would be an excellent idea.”
Staria glanced at the man with faint dissatisfaction.
This is “him”?
The gap between his appearance in white tiger form and human form was so vast she could hardly connect the two. He looked alike… and yet not at all.
Perhaps noticing her side glance, he suddenly closed the distance between them.
The dangerous aura made her clamp her eyes shut instinctively. But what landed on her forehead wasn’t his head—it was his hand.
“Your fever’s gone, but are you still in pain?”
Phew—it seemed he wasn’t about to hit her, only check her temperature.
She mustn’t appear weak. If she looked like she needed too much care, she might be cast out again.
To prove she was fine, Staria tried to jump out of bed. But her freshly recovered legs wouldn’t cooperate. Fortunately, she didn’t topple over—because “he” caught her and helped her back up.
Her forehead might have been spared, but her pride wasn’t.
“So that stench I smelled was you?”
“My lord! That’s a terribly rude thing to say to a lady.”
“Then make sure she doesn’t smell.”
He all but tossed her to Taylor before strolling out of the room. Once they were alone again, Taylor muttered just loud enough for her to hear:
“Please understand. As you can see, he has no basic manners—he’s not someone you can show off in polite company.”
“…”
“As his servant, if I must excuse his poor manners, it’s not just him—it’s our race. Allow me to explain, though it will take a bit. Brace yourself.”
“…”
“The ecosystem of Gulas Forest is much like any other: plants, insects, animals… But in addition, there are immature and mature races. I’ve heard there are beastfolk living in the unexplored eastern wilderness, but they differ from us—their heads are animal-like. Sometimes a mature member of a race is indistinguishable from an animal, but surely you, miss, would recognize one if you saw it. Races are quick to pounce, shouting ‘Just one bite!’ The castle employs no immature races.”
“…”
“If you fear the staff might attack you, rest assured: I’ve given strict orders, and my lord himself warned them not to touch you. But don’t treat us as you would humans—you’ll pay dearly for that mistake. Life in Gulas is nothing like human society. For our kind, every one for themselves is law and creed. In a disaster, we abandon family first. Our small numbers are no accident. In short, we lack social and interpersonal skills. And my lord is the worst of all.”
“…”
“You’ll likely face some difficult situations. When you do, don’t panic—just accept it.”
Taylor gave her a conspiratorial wink, then tugged on a cord hanging from a canopy post.
Before long, several maids in varying outfits appeared.
“My lord dislikes physical contact so much that these maids perform the same duties as servants, but they are distinct in title.”
After clarifying the difference in positions, Taylor gave them instructions.
“You will serve her with the utmost care.”
“We understand.”
Staria was carried off by the senior maid toward the bath.
The bathtub was made of neatly stacked bricks.
Unlike the wooden tub where her feet would hit the end if she stretched her legs, this one was spacious enough to splash about. It was so well maintained that not a trace of moss could be seen. Some kind of device seemed to be installed at the bottom, for as soon as water was poured in, bubbles began to rise and pop.
After days of not washing, Staria itched to jump in at once—but she restrained herself. The maids might think her ill-mannered.
No matter how brave she was, she was still only ten years old. Thrown alone into an entirely different world, she had learned to watch people’s reactions before acting.
While she sat there shrinking in on herself, the maids suddenly tore her tunic into four pieces. Already ragged, it was now reduced to mere scraps of cloth—impossible to wear again.
She had been about to say she could undress herself.
“…!”
But for some reason, no voice came out.
