Chapter 7
The assassin, collapsed in a miserable state on the rooftop, was quietly observed by Riss before he soon lost interest and turned away.
Returning to the bedroom, Riss lay down on the bed, and almost immediately Aile entered the room.
His breathing was slightly rough, suggesting he had been running through the forest to catch Del.
As if worried he might wake the young master, Aile held his breath, placed Del on the bed, and quietly walked toward the candlestick to extinguish the light.
But after finishing all his tasks, Aile suddenly walked not toward the door, but toward the bed.
He began moving his hands strangely over Riss’s sleeping face, as if swatting at something in the air. It was suspicious beyond belief.
In the darkness, Aile silently watched Riss’s steady breathing for a while, repeatedly confirming that he was deeply asleep before slowly pulling away.
Then, with exceptionally stealthy movements, the sound of a window opening was heard.
Aile’s footsteps, blending into the stillness of the dawn, vanished beyond the window in an instant.
“….”
After a while, Riss’s tightly closed eyes slowly opened a slit.
Under his eyelids, his strange violet eyes rolled lazily toward the half-open window.
It seemed Aile had noticed the assassin on the rooftop.
He had thought it was too faint a presence to be detected, but as expected, the man was still an assassin. To notice even such a small trace…
“…Why did he go?”
Even if he noticed the presence, Aile had no obligation to deal with the assassin.
Moreover, Aile was hiding his identity. Yet he still risked being exposed just to eliminate him…
“He should still be alive.”
If he had known this would happen, he would have killed the assassin a little faster.
As Riss sat up, Del—who had seemed asleep—suddenly opened his bright red eyes.
Wagging his long tail, he followed his master.
Whoosh. Thud!
A dull sound came from above the terrace, near the rooftop. There, Aile moved lightly like a feather.
Perhaps annoyed by the frilly lace-heavy maid uniform, he had crudely rolled it up to his thighs. Strangely enough, it suited him.
Aile’s long silver hair fluttered in the night air, shimmering under the faint dawn moonlight like scattered stars.
Grrr…
Seeing the assassin rushing toward Aile, Del growled lowly with aggressive eyes, but Riss calmly grabbed him by the scruff.
“Del, shh. Not yet.”
If the assassin managed to injure Aile, he planned to release Del immediately.
No matter how strong Aile was, the opponent was a fully grown man with a clear physical advantage.
Moreover, he was fast—far beyond the amateur thugs Riss had seen in the dark forest.
Thud!
At that moment, Aile swung something resembling a thick scabbard and struck the assassin’s nape mercilessly.
‘He’s already half-dead… he didn’t need that.’
It was an utterly ruthless strike, showing no mercy whatsoever.
Suddenly, a memory flashed through Riss’s mind.
—
“Will we meet again?”
“If we do… I don’t think I’ll be an angel then. So let’s not meet again.”
—
“…I see.”
Riss’s lips parted slightly.
That merciless hand, that cold demeanor, the rough kicks devoid of any hesitation—
Riss covered his mouth with his hand.
“…An angel, huh.”
The corners of his lips curved upward behind his fingers.
At that moment, Aile turned his head.
His sharp gaze, filled with tension, locked onto the terrace.
Growl!
Riss silently slipped into the shadows, and Del darted forward at his gesture.
“…Ah, it’s just Del.”
Aile’s relaxed voice echoed through the silence.
He then grabbed the unconscious assassin’s belt, tied his hands and feet together like wrapping a gift ribbon, and casually threw him far away.
“Wow, that flew well.”
Riss blinked in mild amazement.
‘This isn’t his first time throwing a person…’
Aile, having finished his cleanup, patted Del’s head.
“Del, what you just saw stays a secret to the master, okay?”
Del responded with a low rumbling purr.
Knock knock.
Tap tap.
In the early morning before the moon had fully set, Aile groaned and rolled over at the sound of a secret knock on the window.
“Ugh… what is it…”
When he turned his head, a crow with red eyes was sitting neatly on the windowsill.
Still half-asleep, Aile opened the window. The crow dropped something from its beak and quickly flew away.
“Haah… Death. I told you not to keep putting things in the crow’s mouth.”
Barely holding the dripping, saliva-soaked letter, Aile unfolded it with a bitter smile.
[Report received. Feedback as follows:
- Regarding the infiltration as a maid resulting in becoming the exclusive attendant, submit a written reprimand.
- Provide more detailed information about the fox’s appearance. In particular, confirm whether the ‘red eyes’ emit light.
- Investigate the target’s combat abilities in detail.
P.S. Use any means necessary to gain the target’s trust.]
“…A written reprimand?!”
Aile’s eyes widened in shock.
The sleepiness that had clung to him vanished instantly.
Of course, he hadn’t expected praise since things hadn’t gone according to plan.
“But this is too much!”
He had struggled through the night to submit a report, and this was what he got in return?
He didn’t even know what he did wrong.
If anything, maybe the responsibility should go to the thorn stuck in Del’s paw at the time.
“This… damn rep—”
With a grim expression, Aile froze for a moment, then calmly smiled and tossed the letter onto the candlestick.
The thin paper quickly caught fire and crackled as it burned.
“Mm, I don’t know anything about that.”
Clearing his mind completely, Aile put on the maid uniform again and headed to Riss’s room for his first duty: waking the young master.
Knock—
No response.
Aile quietly opened the door.
“…Huh?”
But Riss was not in the bed.
Only Del remained, his crimson eyes gleaming, tail flicking aggressively.
“Del, where’s the young master?”
Del stared toward the bathroom.
Aile followed his gaze curiously.
“…!”
At that moment, Riss, just coming out of the bathroom, froze.
Aile, holding Del, looked at him blankly and bowed politely.
“Good morning, young master. You’re up early.”
“…Aile, why are you here?”
The reply came out awkwardly.
“My first task is to wake you up.”
Even now, Aile was staring blankly at Riss’s partially exposed body.
His broad shoulders, firm torso, and damp hair didn’t seem to faze him at all—he looked oddly used to the situation.
“…Aile, can you stop looking at me?”
“Yes, young master.”
Aile obediently turned away.
Riss exhaled sharply, rubbing his face as it turned pale.
After a moment, Riss said it was fine.
Aile turned back immediately.
“…Young master.”
But something about his gaze was different.
Aile’s sharp eyes scanned Riss, then he spoke with a suddenly serious expression.
