CDMGS 26🌻

Chapter 26

Jameson clutched one corner of the banner, his face flustered. His eyes, darting in panic, landed on Seeker.

Seeker looked just as bewildered.

The two exchanged glances before narrowing their eyes at Kelpie.

Though not a single word was spoken, their gazes alone cursed at him. Shrinking, Kelpie ducked behind my back.

At last, as if giving up, the two monsters spread their arms wide and forced awkward smiles.

“Look at this, Head Maid!”

Thud.

Just then, one corner of the banner slipped loose and drooped completely.

“……”

“……”

“……”

Silence blanketed the fountain plaza.

Hadn’t they made it sound like something dreadful had happened?

That was why, the whole time I ran here, my mind had churned out dozens of horrible possibilities.

Did they break the fountain while cleaning?
Was it impossible to drain all the black water?
Or maybe something… crawled out from inside?

But what I actually faced was nothing more than a banner with some silly writing on it, and a handful of embarrassed monsters.

“What is this?”

I pointed weakly at the banner lying on the ground.

So then—whose resurrection, exactly, were we supposed to be celebrating?

Jameson and Seeker stared at the words below, the corners of their mouths twitching uncontrollably.

That was when—

“Look at this, Head Maid!”

Kelpie, who had been trembling even while hiding behind me, suddenly leapt forward with new-found bravado, pointing to the banner.

The other two scrambled to pick it up again.

And in that moment, I realized the truth.

[(Congratu)lations on the Resurrection of the Fountain!]

“The fountain… wait, the fountain?”

“Yes, the fountain cleaning is finished! It’s like brand new!”

The three monsters, now united in purpose, smiled at me nervously.

Cleaning the fountain was done?

I froze, eyes widening, and sniffed the air.

Ah. That explained it.

The stench was completely gone.

When I’d first approached the fountain, the reek had assaulted me from meters away. But the more they cleaned, the weaker it grew.

Now, even standing right beside it, not a whiff remained.

Drawing closer, I found that the once pitch-black water had become entirely clear.

The cleaning had finished far faster than I’d ever expected.

Delight crept across my face, and at last the monsters edged toward me, bashful but hopeful.

“We wanted to surprise you once everything was ready,” Jameson murmured, scratching the back of his head.

“I said we should wait and bring you here slowly, but Kelpie ruined it,” Seeker muttered, glaring coldly at Kelpie.

Kelpie flinched and slunk back behind me again.

Still, what mattered was the intent.

“You all worked so hard,” I said brightly, gazing into the crystal-clear water.

It was spotless—perfect. Anyone could come now.

“I never imagined you’d finish this quickly. I thought it would take at least a month.”

“Head Maid,” Jameson whispered, sidling up to me and glancing around conspiratorially. His tentacled mouth moved beneath a shielding limb as he muttered:

“Since we finished so quickly… couldn’t we have a little break?”

Behind him, I heard someone gulp audibly.

Jameson’s lips pressed tight, his eyes pleading desperately for my answer. The other two wore the same expression.

Ah. So that was what this whole silly plan had been about.

I chuckled and held up two fingers.

“All right. Two days. As Head Maid, I’ll grant you all two days of vacation.”

“……!”

A reward was only fair.

Whether it was the promise of a break or not, the fact remained—they had cleaned the fountain to this level within working hours. That was no small achievement.

The moment my words sank in, the three of them lit up with joy, as though choreographed.

And I smiled too.

At last, I could have my long-awaited tea time.

“Good morning, Head Maid!”

“Good morning, Jameson.”

What’s this?

Jameson had never once greeted me in the morning, yet here he was, going out of his way to do so.

I replied automatically, but when I glanced back, the reason was obvious.

Oh right. They were on vacation.

The break must have done wonders for his mood.

His squid-like face gleamed so smoothly I could see the faint outline of my reflection. His tentacles, polished clean, caught the sunlight and sparkled. They looked so springy I half expected them to make a boing sound if I poked them.

The fountain cleaning was officially complete.

And today was—

“Jameson, today’s the day.”

“Y-Yes?!”

He was humming to himself while dipping his tentacles in a bucket of water when my words made him falter, unease flashing in his eyes. The thought ‘She’s making me do something again’ practically floated above his head.

“The Duke is holding tea time in front of the fountain today.”

“Ah…”

“You’ll be helping me.”

Squelch.

The tentacle that had gleamed moments ago now dangled lifelessly, dripping water until it shriveled like dried seaweed.

Wait, wasn’t this why he greeted me so cheerfully?

I arched a brow.

Yes, the fountain looked pristine now. But one could never be too sure.

Rumor had it that anyone who entered the water would have their body dissolved completely. Even if the Duke was a grand mage, what if he carelessly touched the water and melted away?

When I voiced my concerns to Myron—

“Ah, it’s fully purified now. You can touch the water without issue.”

He’d come personally, dipped his hand in, and nothing happened.

Even so, I wanted to be certain.

And since Jameson had been safe even when the fountain was full of black water, he was the perfect assistant for this tea time.

Of course, Jameson grumbled… but ended up checking the fountain thoroughly with me anyway.

Later, when I asked him to fetch a tablecloth—

“Uh, Jameson.”

“Yes, Head Maid?”

I blinked in disbelief at what he handed me. His tentacles shrugged innocently.

Holding the cloth up, I asked flatly:

“Isn’t this… a bit painful to look at?”

It was a tablecloth—bright neon yellow.

So bright it made my eyes ache.

“Don’t you think it’s pretty? It matches the fountain lights perfectly.”

One tentacle scratched the back of his head while another pointed toward the lamps fixed to the fountain.

Right. My mistake.

I’d completely forgotten that this mansion’s sense of style was… eccentric.

Without a word, I folded the offending cloth and headed to the kitchen. Luckily, I found a spare—white with a floral pattern—that would do nicely.

By the time I returned, Jameson was dipping his tentacles in the fountain, enjoying his break as though it were a spa.

At last, with the table covered, I placed the teapot and cups carefully.

“Done!”

It hadn’t been hard work, but nerves made me sweat. Droplets trickled down my forehead and neck. I wiped them away with the back of my hand.

“Now, I just have to tell the Duke—”

“That tea time is ready.”

“Ye—eh?!”

A voice whispered against my ear, and I answered instinctively—only to leap back in shock.

My heart thudded wildly.

Thank goodness I hadn’t been holding a teacup, or I would’ve dropped it.

“…Duke?”

I didn’t even need to turn my head. The faint glimmer of silver hair in my peripheral vision told me he was standing right there.

Once again, he had appeared without a sound.

He’d even leaned close to match my height, his murmur brushing directly against my ear.

I blinked slowly.

…All that effort, all those days of secret planning—ruined.

I had even hidden teacups, terrified he might discover the preparations. Only Ekki, Myron, and Jameson knew.

And I’d begged them to keep it a secret.

So how—?

My elaborate plan had collapsed, and so easily.

At this point, it was simpler to assume the Duke somehow knew every single thing happening in the mansion.

“How did you know I was preparing tea time?” I pouted.

“As I kept hearing about it,” he said simply.

“What? Who told you?”

“If I had to say—you did.”

“…Me?”

“You were planning to fetch me anyway, weren’t you? Easier if I came on my own.”

Well… that was true.

Sulking, I said nothing. The Duke, unconcerned, sat down at the table.

Tap, tap. His finger drummed against the wood, a silent order for me to pour the tea.

Flustered, I hurried to comply.

‘Something soft, with a hint of sweetness.’

The tea shop owner had told me that blending leaves from pouches #1 and #2 would give a smooth, balanced flavor. Cool and refreshing at first, with a sweetness that bloomed after.

Not trusting his taste alone, I had experimented for two days, testing every combination. In the end, he’d been right—#1 and #2 together were best.

Pour—

The amber liquid flowed into his cup.

When I set the teapot down, the Duke’s brow twitched ever so slightly.

A look of faint displeasure.

As though something about all this was not quite to his liking.