TMLAM 11

Chapter 11

The Male Lead’s Devoted Maid Is Too Competent

Aidan delivered some very good news to me.

My proposal had been accepted. Not only that—based on my suggestion, additional quarry operations would be opened, and this would make a significant contribution to the northern economy.

It felt a little surreal. And surprising.

Only then did it truly sink in that Kristan was the lord who ruled over this vast northern land. He was someone who could change so much with a single word.

And the thing that made me happiest was this:

“He said that if you have any more suggestions in the future, you should feel free to bring them up at any time. He also asked whether you’d be willing to take on reviewing some of the proposals that will be submitted from now on. Would that be possible?”

“I’ll do my very best, within the limits of my ability!”

I had earned my employer’s trust.
Maybe—just maybe—I was finally climbing my way up to the position of a full-fledged employee.

At this rate, I was definitely going to sleep like a baby tonight.

* * *

That Sunday.

Kristan let out a small chuckle.

Since he’d stayed late reviewing documents again today, he had stopped by the training grounds on his way back. After releasing a fair amount of mana, both his body and mind felt lighter.

While he had been dragging his feet like that, Roella had already fallen asleep.

She looked completely at ease.

Kristan checked the time. It was already nearing 1 a.m., so it wasn’t strange that Roella had fallen asleep while waiting for him—especially since she always slept deeply no matter where she was.

“Still, I don’t recall ever giving permission to sleep on the bed.”

She was lying neatly on the very edge of the bed.

Either she’d climbed up unconsciously, or she might have thought, I’ll just lie down for a moment. Whatever the case, having someone else lying on his bed was an extremely unfamiliar situation for Kristan.

He was sensitive when it came to sleeping—he would wake up even from the slightest shift of the bed.

Partly because of the mana his body constantly contained, and partly because of habits formed through prolonged combat. During camps, encounters with nocturnal monsters were common, after all.

“I’m sure I gave her a warning before she started working.”

Well, it couldn’t be helped tonight.

Kristan sat down on the chair Roella usually used. It had looked large when she sat in it, but when he did, it felt snug—naturally, since it had been custom-made to fit Roella’s body.

He leaned forward.

She was sleeping incredibly deeply.

Kristan poked Roella’s hand.

No matter how much mana he’d expended at the training grounds, he still needed her tomorrow.

“Mmgh! D-don’t bother me, y-you mos… mosquito!”

Roella waved her hand weakly.

Kristan stifled a quiet laugh.
Being instantly demoted from “the grand duke to whom one pledges loyalty” to a mosquito was strangely amusing.

Kristan caught the hand that was still flailing helplessly in the air.

Just like before, it was a small, soft hand that barely seemed to fill half his palm.

How did such a small hand manage to accomplish so much?

Slowly, Kristan interlaced their fingers.
The way her fingers clung limply to his brought back memories of the other day.

The day she had crouched beneath the bed, stretching out only her hand.

There had been no one in sight—just a small hand resting squarely on top of his. He’d been utterly dumbfounded at the time.

She was certainly a type of person he’d never encountered before.

Kristan slowly leaned back against the bed, lying down just as Roella had done.

Listening to her steady breathing—hss, hss—he closed his eyes.

His body gradually relaxed. To the point where he could barely recall the pain of the past anymore.

Kristan was slowly growing accustomed to Roella.

Like something gently seeping in.

Little by little.

* * *

Jamon gazed up at the grand ducal castle, his face slightly pale.

For the past five days, Jamon had been running around tirelessly, meeting on-site officials and drafting documents.

He’d worked nonstop—even through the weekend—to keep the “five days” he’d promised himself. Thanks to that, he was able to bring the documents first thing Monday morning, but the accumulated exhaustion was impossible to hide.

‘Still, this time it’s perfect!’

He’d written everything according to the capital’s standards. He’d reviewed it multiple times—there was no way there could be any errors.

With confidence, Jamon entered the grand ducal castle.

However, what he heard upon seeking out Aidan left him displeased.

“If you go to the steward’s office, you’ll find Miss Roella there—she’s been working with us. Show her the proposal first and get her approval.”

“…Miss Roella?”

Did that mean his documents weren’t even worthy of the grand duke’s review?

He felt utterly crushed.

Unaware—or unconcerned—about Jamon’s turmoil, Aidan spoke lightly.

“His Highness favors the documents Miss Roella prepares. You’ve probably seen them too—clean and concise. Easy to grasp at a glance, which saves time.”

Jamon had seen them.

Aidan wasn’t wrong.

Even Jamon, who’d once been called a god of document organization, wasn’t that good. He had no idea where such a hidden master had appeared from.

Jamon swallowed hard.

The sense of defeat burned sharply, but this wasn’t the time to push back.

If Roella reviewed his documents and confirmed they were flawless, then both Aidan and the grand duke would surely acknowledge him again.

As humiliating as it felt, he couldn’t afford the mistake of opposing the grand duke’s decision.

Jamon lowered his head.

“Yes, understood. I will learn from Miss Roella.”

“Hahaha. Helping each other is always a good thing.”

Aidan patted Jamon’s shoulder with the easygoing air of a generous gentleman.

But when Jamon turned away, his face had hardened coldly.

He already knew who Miss Roella was.

‘To think she came in as the grand duke’s concubine…’

Jamon’s anger flared unnecessarily.

Roella Chiflet—rumored to be the daughter Count Chiflet had sold off. She was famous as a “compatible candidate” who had been brought in to save the grand duke’s life.

It was far from rare for such compatible candidates to become the grand duke’s concubines—or to bear illegitimate children. Roella would surely follow the same path.

And the Chiflet family? He’d heard they were bankrupt, their mansion even mortgaged.

Her father had gambled away the money he’d gotten from selling his daughter, then disappeared.

Roella’s position was extremely ambiguous.

How was she any different from common maids?

And yet, he was supposed to get her approval?

It felt like his abilities were being deliberately undervalued, bruising his pride.

Of course, Roella’s document-handling skills were impressive—but that was beside the point. He was angry regardless.

‘She should just warm the grand duke’s bed!’

Jamon’s thoughts grew increasingly twisted.

He clenched his fists tightly.

Perhaps she’d learned all sorts of things in exchange for warming the grand duke’s bed.

There was no way someone raised in the Chiflet household could possess such high-level abilities.

After calming his anger, Jamon knocked on the office door and entered.

Only Roella was inside. The steward couldn’t possibly be that young.

Jamon added another note to his mental evaluation of her.

‘Looks like she won the grand duke’s favor with her pretty face. Typical—given her background.’

Today, he would knock her down a peg and make her realize her place.

“Miss Roella?”

At his call, Roella lifted her head.

Her silver hair swayed softly, revealing a neat, delicate face.

Something about her gaze felt strange—slightly unfocused.

‘No. That’s not what matters right now.’

Jamon cleared his throat and introduced himself.

“My name is Jamon Exsla. I’ve begun working for the grand ducal household. I look forward to working with you.”

There was no need to ruin his reputation within the castle over a woman like Roella.