CDMGS 27🌻

Chapter 27

“Why… why don’t you pour a cup for yourself?”

“M-me…?”

I blinked in surprise, pointing at myself as though he must be joking.

I’m just the head maid, you know.

But judging by the duke’s expression, he was not joking in the slightest.

“Yes. Tea time is supposed to be for two, isn’t it?”

The way he emphasized two made me think he must have often had tea with someone else alone in the past. Usually, tea time was enjoyed in groups.

Even so…

Isn’t it a bit strange for a duke and a head maid to share tea time?

Since I’d already fully adapted to living in Sasha’s body, my first concern was about class hierarchy in this world.

I hesitated, stealing glances at the duke. But as the moments ticked by, his brows drew closer together. I quickly took a seat opposite him.

Well, if I go by rank, I suppose I must obey the words of His Grace!

Thankfully, my quick wit saved me. Only after I sat did the duke finally wrap his fingers around the teacup’s handle.

I let out a silent breath of relief and fixed my gaze on those elegant fingers holding the cup.

Even if I can’t surprise him, at least the tea itself might…

The only thing I could rely on now was the fragrance and taste.

The duke’s slender fingers lifted the cup. His lips touched the rim.

Perhaps because I was so tense, the scene entered my vision at a crawling pace, as though time itself had slowed.

Ah.

I suddenly remembered something I’d been trying to ignore: the duke’s tastes weren’t much different from the other servants.

He liked teas with strange odors, where black bits floated around. Compared to that, what I’d made was terribly plain.

Shouldn’t I have catered to his taste instead?

A thousand doubts flooded my mind. But by then, his Adam’s apple had already bobbed several times.

Deflated, I bowed my head and folded both fists neatly atop my lap.

I’d promised myself I would host a tea time for the duke… yet in the end, I’d prepared everything to suit my own tastes.

Regret swelled inside me. Still, I had to ask out of courtesy.

“Does… does the tea suit your taste, my lord?”

Expecting a “no,” I shut my eyes tight.

Even if he tried to be kind, surely most of the tea would still be left untouched—

“Mm.”

…Huh?

Did he just say yes?

I snapped my eyes open. The duke was resting his chin on one hand, idly swirling the cup. More than half of the tea was already gone.

“It’s sweet.”

His tongue brushed across his lips, and the faintest smile lifted his mouth.

“Sweet enough to linger on the tip of my tongue.”

“……”

So he could smile like that.

Instead of being moved, I felt strangely dazed.

Clink.

The duke set down his cup and tilted his head slightly.

The human head maid—no, Sasha’s—emotions shifted by the second. And it was oddly pleasant to watch.

Until the tea touched his lips, she had been brimming with [nervousness]. Then it shifted to [anxiety], [unease]…

When she was cleaning earlier, she had been so joyful.

And now? To be trembling like this was almost laughable. Wasn’t this tea time her idea in the first place?

But then—

“There’s flavor…?”

Something was wrong. For the first time, he tasted something from tea he had only half-drunken while reading her emotions.

It was cool at first sip. Sweet at the end.

Why can I taste it?

Never once had he tasted human food. That was something only humans did.

Why bother imagining taste when he could turn reality itself to his will?

Normally, he would have stopped after one sip. But by the time he lowered the cup, half of it was gone.

He glanced from his cup to Sasha, who sat with her hands clasped tightly, mouth slightly agape.

Her face, usually pale even when sweating from chores, now flushed pink.

Her emotions shifted—now [joy].

Yes, those were always easier to consume.

“Sweet. Sweet enough to linger on the tongue.”

He licked his lips, his eyelids drooping lazily.

Humans consumed food simply to maintain what they called their bodies.

But to feed on them, positivity was always smoother than negativity. Not about taste—about efficiency.

Emotions were not flavors. They were vessels, impossible to describe with language, impossible to contain except in himself.

Yet from Sasha’s emotions… there was suddenly taste.

He shut his eyes, recalling his usual numb palate.

From the very beginning, he had been tasteless. Or perhaps one could not even say he had been “born.”

A being apart from all things.

Every morsel of food was nothing more than meaningless texture.

And yet now—why?

He already knew his thralls were being purified.

But since Sasha’s arrival, the estate had been changing in subtle ways.

Order had crept in where once there was none.

He hadn’t minded. His unstable essence was no different. But never had he thought that change would reach him.

Something deep within—heart, or perhaps the foundation of all things—fluttered faintly. Not a physical reaction, but something like a primal warning.

The sense of a crack in the instability that had sustained him. This was not mere taste.

He touched his lips. His mouth was still sweet.

The echo of Sasha’s emotions and the tea’s aroma lingered stubbornly at the tip of his nose.

It was excessive, and yet he brushed it aside. There were no true “problems” for him, not in any world.

Ironically, he didn’t realize he had rushed to attend this tea time the moment he heard Sasha was hosting it.

Nor that he was listening so intently to her voice.

Because the duke had appeared so suddenly, the table was too sparsely set to be called a true spread of refreshments.

Yet the atmosphere was… ripe.

Just a duke and a maid sharing tea—nothing more.

But across that small table, something unspoken flickered.

Neither of them noticed.

Someone else did.

“If this is how it’s going to be, then why did she even call me?!”

Jameson, whom Sasha had asked to help with tea time.

It would have been better if they had outright ignored him.

From the moment the duke arrived, Jameson’s presence had vanished completely. Even Sasha forgot him, not sparing so much as a glance.

Grinding his teeth, Jameson flailed his tentacles in the air, desperate to draw their eyes. But still, neither paid him any attention.

He might as well have been a fountain’s moving octopus statue.

For centuries, he had never uttered curses unworthy of the title “cosmic octopus.” But ever since the head maid had failed to understand him the other day, he found himself choking back another.

“■☐☐■…….”

At least dismiss me so I can leave!

Foam bubbled around his beak, his muttered grumbles vanishing in the froth.

No one noticed him until the duke drained his cup and rose from his seat.

Not even when the duke teleported away, leaving nothing but empty air, did Sasha’s eyes shift from the space he had occupied.

“……Ah, right!”

She slapped the table and jumped to her feet.

“Mr. Jameson!”

Only then did she remember him.

By that time, Jameson had already fused with the fountain, spurting water like it was his natural state.

“Mr. Jameson.”

“……”

“Mr. Jameson, I’m so sorry. It was my first time brewing tea, and I was so nervous I completely forgot about you.”

The finicky octopus bastard.

No matter how much I shook his shoulders, grabbed his tentacles, or begged, Jameson gave no reply.

His mouth, already protruding, now jutted out even further.

At this rate, he could vacuum-clean the whole garden with that beak.

Thus began Day 1 of my cold war with Jameson.

To be precise, he was ignoring me.

Every day after work, I sought him out to apologize, but he would never accept it. His beak stayed clamped shut.

Fine, yes, I get it. I asked you to help with tea time, then completely forgot about you…

That’s why, when he appeared at the dining hall for a meal, I gave him all of my special clams and shrimp.

He only scoffed, but still—the mood between us had been better back then!

So why now?

Sure, it was my fault. But my title as “Monster Most Worth Caring For” was in danger of slipping.

I trailed after him like the needy one I was, gnawed by guilt.

Currently, Jameson was mopping the second-floor corridor.

Only he wasn’t. He half-dipped his tentacles in the bucket, barely wetting them, then dragged them across the floor.

Thanks to his half-hearted effort, half the corridor was left a complete mess.