CDMGS 35🌻

Chapter 35

This can’t be happening.

For all my bravado in declaring I’d make tea, my body shrank in on itself the moment I sat down.

Thank goodness I had my back turned to the two of them.

Why are they still talking?

I couldn’t very well disobey the Duke’s command to return, so I dawdled, walking at a snail’s pace toward the back gate.

“I thought you’d been eaten by something in the storage room, Head Maid.”

The moment I arrived, Jameson tossed me one of his bizarre jokes. I dipped one of his tentacles into a bucket of water until his brown octopus face turned chalk white, then ordered him to scrub down the fences.

Not that I was mad at his words.
I just needed to stall for time.

So I explained—painstakingly—how to use each cleaning tool, unfolded every garbage bag one by one, and only after all that did I drag myself back toward the parlor.

I prayed their conversation would be over by now.

But no.
They were still at it.

Not even a single teacup had been set on the table.

Fine. Then I’ll make tea.

With relief at having found something to do in this suffocating atmosphere, I pulled out the new set of vintage teacups I’d bought.

They were white, soft-looking like fresh cream, with delicate silver floral patterns etched into the porcelain.

If not now, when else will I ever get to serve tea to someone else?

That tiny thought was all the comfort I could muster. I placed the cups carefully on the table.

Both men’s eyes moved to the cups at the same time.

And that’s when it hit me:
From the moment I entered until now… neither had said a word.

Did they have a huge fight?

They were probably just glaring at each other, unsure how to make peace.

And now, too awkward to look at each other, they were staring at teacups instead.

Not my business, though.

A few days ago, I’d sworn I’d help reconcile them. That memory had long since fluttered away.

Because what pressed down on me wasn’t just awkwardness—it was a suffocating, crushing aura between the two of them.

This isn’t a place I belong.

All I have to do is brew the tea, then sit far, far away.

I’d done enough by bringing them together. The rest was up to them.

“Shasha, you should prepare your cup too.”

Wait, what?

“Me? My own teacup?”

“Yes.”

And just like that, I was dragged straight into the suffocating atmosphere.

But… why?

Still, I did what I always did—I obeyed the Duke. Refusing him only ever ended in disaster.

So, three cups of tea were poured.

For a brief moment I considered using those awful, foul-smelling black leaves… but then remembered the Duke had told me to throw them away at the fountain. Thank goodness I listened. Otherwise, I’d be drinking it myself now.

Instead, I used the leaves I always chose for teatime—the ones the Duke once praised as sweet and delicious. I liked them too.

“Would you like to try?”

I held my breath as I served.

The Duke looked satisfied.
The so-called butler raised his cup casually, but the moment he sipped, his eyes flew wide open.

“This… how—”

Before he could finish, a sheet of paper fluttered down out of nowhere and cut him off.

The Duke caught it smoothly and laid it on the table.

“This rule needs to be erased.”

Rule? What rule?

I stole a glance at the paper. The Duke tapped a finger against the words:

「 3. There is no butler in this mansion.
If anyone claims to be one, ignore them and knock on the Duke’s study door twice. 」

The third rule. The one about the butler.

The Duke spread his hand over the page. He wasn’t holding a pen. What was he—

And then, right before my eyes, the word butler vanished.

It wasn’t erased. It dissolved. The ink peeled off the page, viscous and sticky, until it simply… ceased to exist.

Then came the real nightmare.

Dozens of tiny black things wriggled into being, crawling through the air. They latched onto the blank space like leeches reaching for flesh.

A shudder rippled through me.

When they finally settled, new words had formed:

「 3. This rule has been deleted at will. 」

So the rule wasn’t gone. It had just been replaced with something deliberately vague.

Deleted at will…

It felt less like closure and more like a warning: It could be rewritten at any time.

Maybe it wasn’t even meant for me—maybe it was a warning to the other servants.

But… did they make up?

They still looked strained, as though the long period of fighting hadn’t yet worn off.

Friends, yes. But this man was also—apparently—the butler.

And what unsettled me most:

The Duke isn’t even bothering to hide his magic anymore.

I used to find every display of his power dazzling, but this time? The crawling ink, the sudden appearance of rules—it was eerie, almost grotesque.

No wonder others feared him.

And yet, in the end, I couldn’t help but clap my hands.

“Wow, that was amazing magic, my lord!”

The applause came out too stiff, too rehearsed. My palms slowed until they barely met at all.

The Duke’s hand—still resting on the rulebook—froze mid-motion. Even he seemed caught off guard by how fake it sounded.

I panicked, blurting out the first distraction that came to mind.

“So… does this mean he really is the butler?”

The self-proclaimed butler answered before the Duke could.

“Yes. As of today, I am once again the butler of House Vermanion.”

He grinned, as though suddenly closer to me than before.

“From now on, if you need anything, don’t trouble the Duke. Tell me instead.”

“Huh? And where exactly would I even find you?”

“I’ll always be nearby when needed.”

“….”

“I look forward to working with you, Head Maid.”

I was still wary of him—he had, after all, appeared out of nowhere in the storage room—but his earnest smile and outstretched hand softened my suspicion.

Maybe I overreacted.

After all, hadn’t his first impression at the tea shop been pleasant enough?

So I eased my posture, extended my own hand carefully, and said:

“I’ll be in your care as well, Butler.”

But my hand never touched his.

The Duke seized his arm first, gripping it tightly, his brow furrowed in sharp displeasure.

For all the emotions he’d begun showing lately, this was the first time his face was laid so bare, twisted with distaste.

“I told you not to interfere.”

The butler tried to protest:

“This isn’t interference—”

“Leave.”

The Duke’s command cut him short.

The butler’s smile stiffened, one corner of his lips twitching. Reluctantly, he stood.

And then—

The Duke snapped his fingers. The study door burst open, and the butler was hurled bodily outside, as if the mansion itself had rejected him.

Bang!

The door slammed shut with a petulant thud. His voice, surely shouting from outside, was completely muffled.

Silence.

Only the Duke and I remained in the study.

I swallowed hard.

What happens to me now, if you send him away like that?

I hadn’t wanted to be caught in their quarrel, but now I was trapped alone with the Duke.

And then his calm voice broke the silence:

“There’s no need to tell the butler anything. You can just tell me.”