Chapter 18
The issue was what reason to give for bringing Miela to the estate.
This was a separate matter from proving her usefulness. If Miela had been a talented artist, he could’ve claimed to be sponsoring her. If she had been a noble lady from even a minor house, he could’ve asked his parents to be her patrons.
But Miela was just an ordinary girl who didn’t fit into any of those categories.
‘She seems to want to become a maid, but that won’t do either.’
Being called “young master” or “my lord” by Miela instead of “Titi”? Being waited on by her? Just imagining it made his whole body break out in goosebumps. Despite the fact that he had once been equally arrogant to everyone, he didn’t feel like acting noble around Miela.
‘More than anything, I’d have to tell her that I’m not Titi, but Iestin Baloire.’
Of course, he couldn’t keep hiding his identity forever. At this villa, there were only a few people, so they could keep up the act and pretend he was just a servant. But the ducal house had hundreds of employees. One way or another, the truth would come out—it was only a matter of time.
‘Maybe I should’ve just told her from the start that I’m the young master of House Baloire.’
It was too late for regrets now. The best he could do was think of how to reveal the truth without making Miela feel too betrayed.
A few more days passed. Tomorrow marked the two-week deadline he’d promised Regina.
Iestin was at his wit’s end, his head about to explode with worries. But on the outside, he appeared calm, reading a book.
‘Hmm, straw’s softer than I expected.’
Leaning against a pile of well-dried straw under the shade of a tree with thick, lush leaves, he was quite comfortable.
The problem was, he couldn’t concentrate on his book.
‘Why is she smiling like that while shearing sheep?’
He kept sneaking glances at Miela as she trimmed the sheep’s wool nearby. Whenever she seemed to glance his way, he quickly lowered his head, pretending to read.
At this point, it wouldn’t be surprising if Miela noticed something was up, but she was either too slow-witted or truly unaware of his glances.
“Titi!”
How long had it been? Miela came running over, calling his name. It looked like she had finished shearing all that thick wool.
“Did you wait long?”
“Not really.”
Iestin shook his head. Then he noticed that Miela was staring at his forehead.
“…Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Ah! Sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. I was just thinking… your hair’s gotten a bit long. I wondered if I should trim it for you.”
The scissors glinted in her hand. To her, hair and wool were the same—things that needed cutting.
“You think I’m a sheep?”
His response was a bit sharp. Miela waved her hands in a panic.
“No, no! I didn’t mean I’d shave your head like a sheep! Just trust me this once, Titi. I’ll make it look nice.”
“Fine, just this once.”
Taking a chance, Iestin let Miela trim his bangs. And not long after, he regretted it bitterly. Damn it—she’s an expert with wool but a complete novice with hair!
“S-sorry! I really messed up, Titi! What do I do?”
His bangs were a choppy disaster, like a rat had chewed through them. Miela fidgeted anxiously.
He’d had a bad feeling when she first started. He thought maybe it’d turn out okay if she kept going—but no, it only got worse. It was beyond repair.
“Haa…”
Looking at her, Iestin sighed deeply. He didn’t even need a mirror to know what he looked like. The ends of his hair felt like a total mess.
“Oh dear, young master’s hair…!”
The old butler watching from a distance visibly trembled with the effort to suppress laughter. His deeply lined face looked ready to burst into giggles at any moment.
‘No, let’s think positively. It’s not the ducal house, so no one important will see. Even if I look ridiculous, who’s going to know?’
Iestin tried to stay composed. But it wasn’t easy. The pride of the Baloire family—his jet-black, glossy hair—now looked like a stray dog’s coat.
“Well, what’s done is done. Don’t feel too bad.”
He tried to sound nonchalant, but his voice was noticeably flatter than usual. He decided to ask the head maid to clean it up when they returned to the villa. She wasn’t a magician, so she couldn’t restore what had been cut, but at least she could tidy it up.
“S-sorry. I shouldn’t have tried to fix it.”
Realizing he was upset, Miela apologized.
“I told you not to feel bad.”
“But it is my fault…”
While Iestin had mostly given up, Miela looked like she was about to cry.
Eventually, she quietly disappeared. When she returned, her hands were full of red, plump, juicy-looking berries.
“What’s this?”
“Wild raspberries. They’re sweet and tangy. Try one.”
The moment the berry entered his mouth, sweet juice burst out. As Iestin’s expression subtly changed, Miela watched him nervously.
That’s when he realized—she had brought the fruit to cheer him up.
“It’s delicious. Really sweet.”
“Right?”
Relieved by his positive reaction, Miela finally smiled.
Watching her, Iestin suddenly felt sorry for her. Was it really such a huge mistake that she needed to be this flustered over it? It was just hair—it would grow back.
‘If it were me, I probably would’ve just acted like nothing happened.’
Miela was great in every way, but her problem was she had too much of a conscience.
“Here, have some more.”
She handed him all the raspberries she had picked. Iestin didn’t refuse. Instead, he picked the biggest one and held it up to her lips. Miela’s eyes widened in surprise.
“You’re giving this to me?”
“You brought them. I can’t be the only one eating.”
“Th-thanks.”
As they nibbled on the berries, their fingertips stained red with juice.
When their hands were finally empty, Miela suddenly stood up.
“Should I go pick some more? There’s plenty over there.”
“No need for that.”
Iestin shook his head. Just then, he noticed a red scratch on the back of her hand that hadn’t been there before. She must’ve gotten it while picking berries. It probably stung. He wanted to apply some ointment.
“Your hand. You’re hurt.”
“Oh, this? It’s nothing. It’ll heal in a day or two.”
Miela shrugged like it was no big deal.
Iestin couldn’t understand her. Weren’t humans supposed to be selfish by nature? Most people dismiss others’ pain while being hypersensitive about their own.
‘So why is she the exact opposite?’
She was like some rare, mutant species that should’ve gone extinct by now.
“Stop acting tough. Show me your hand.”
“Okay.”
Pressed by Iestin’s firm tone, Miela timidly held out her hand. He took out a tiny vial from his pocket—a healing potion crafted by top-class magic healers.
Because of his frail health, he always carried it with him, like a first-aid kit.
“What’s that?”
Miela asked curiously. If he told her the truth, she’d surely refuse to use something so precious. So he deliberately downplayed it.
“Just something to help wounds heal faster. I’ll put it on. It might sting a little.”
“I’m fine! I can handle pain really well!”
She proclaimed boldly, but the moment the potion touched her wound, she winced and squeezed her eyes shut. Because of that, she didn’t notice how her scratch vanished instantly upon contact with the potion.
