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Chapter 12
I Reincarnated as an Extra in a Parenting Story
How Should a Maid Let the Heir of the Duke’s House Go Without Upsetting Him?
It was a difficult question, but I couldn’t think about it for long. If a maid kept holding the young master’s hand—he was four years younger—and only swallowed her dry saliva nervously, it would cause a huge misunderstanding.
“Uhh… ahem…”
“…….”
“Um, young master… just a moment.”
“…….”
“Could… could I… hold your hand for a moment?”
“…….”
“I need to… tidy the bed…”
Narcis’s face, flickering in the shadows of the fireplace and lamp, looked strangely sulky.
Well… why? I didn’t even want to say it out loud myself.
“The bed’s fine now.”
Narcis let go of my hand first and slipped under the covers. I stayed wrapped in my shawl. The movement as he slid in was almost ghostlike.
“I’ll bring a wet towel.”
“No need. Stay here.”
He turned to lie on his side, his gaze fixed on me.
“You said you’d stay.”
That had been a joke, though.
“Then… um…”
“Don’t run away.”
He cut me off the moment I started to speak. There was no way I could run in this situation.
“I mean… may I sit in the chair?”
“…….”
“…….”
Was he embarrassed?
“…Fine.”
After a long pause, Narcis muttered. For a moment, he looked just a little like a boy his age.
I wanted to escape from him—the one who had called me a sewer rat, spilled tea on the carpet, and grabbed my chin.
After hearing a threat that he’d kill me, my motivation only sank. What was the point of fighting back when I was already “dying”?
Acting weak and wavering was very much the role of an extra. The protagonist would move according to her plans in this situation—just like the young lady who tricked the Trisen household and its staff.
There was no reason for me to feel inferior.
Only extras could disappear offstage.
I dragged a chair close to the bed and sat down. Narcis’s dark red eyes immediately locked on me. He followed all my movements with his gaze.
“If you want to sleep, shouldn’t you close your eyes?”
“You’re giving me orders now, huh?”
“Me… to the young master? No way.”
“You didn’t answer a word.”
I clearly remembered our conversation from a few days ago—if it could even be called a conversation.
“You told me to answer properly every time.”
It wasn’t meant to be backtalk, but to carefully listen to the person I served and respond appropriately. Narcis didn’t pick a fight this time.
“You used to fear me.”
I did. I tried my best not to get involved, and that had caused me to be caught off guard.
So I resolved to leave completely this time.
“Isn’t that what you wanted?”
Because you wanted me to fear you.
Narcis lowered his gaze and answered:
“No.”
No?
“It wasn’t.”
Then why did he act like a psycho?
“I thought you were afraid. But… you’re not.”
I understood after hearing that. It meant I didn’t fear him. Strange… I really did feel fear.
So I didn’t know whether he wanted me to be afraid or not.
“I’ll do as you wish, young master.”
I just had to follow his orders. If he wanted me to fear him, I’d prostrate myself flat.
…But what if he made things worse?
“If you say not to fear, I won’t fear.”
I quickly added, and Narcis snorted in amusement.
“You say you’ll do as I wish, yet you tell me what you want.”
What should I say in response?
“Um… I just… haven’t been taught well.”
Narcis blinked twice and replied:
“You won’t get promoted, then.”
It was true that a servant from a commoner background had little chance of promotion. To serve a noble, you had to be well-versed in etiquette and scholarship.
I had no interest in struggling for promotion when I could survive just fine. I was already living desperately.
“You need to know your place. Studying is poison… that’s for young masters like you to handle.”
Indeed, it wasn’t my job.
Narcis asked innocently:
“What?”
I couldn’t just say, “Studying.”
“A… good… Duke?”
I didn’t know how good of a Duke I’d be, even after training with Aieon.
“Because I’m the eldest son of the ducal house?”
I had thought he was acting childish, but then I realized—he was fifteen.
Teenagers at this age need careful handling, and the Northern Duke wouldn’t do it, so I’d try.
“Though you’re born with a fate to bear, life is ultimately lived alone.”
Choosing words was difficult. What should I say to the heir of the dukedom?
“You, young master, should live as you wish.”
Oh no… that could sound like, “Live however you want!”
“No, I mean… as your heart guides you…”
“Did you say that to Edel too?”
“Ah… yes.”
I had told the young lady to live as she wished too—even knowing it wouldn’t work out that way.
“Well done.”
“…What?”
Narcis complimented me?
“The maid climbed up fearlessly.”
“Ah…”
Of course. Before I could apologize, he continued:
“She’ll understand. She’s different from me.”
His tone was flat, almost emotionless.
But… different from me?
The young lady didn’t resemble anyone in the Trisen family. Only I knew why.
“You didn’t drive me away either, young master.”
I said it without thinking.
Instead of pointing out that he, born here, and the young lady, who had lived a past life, were obviously different:
“You and the young lady… you look alike. Are you siblings?”
I ended up consoling him.
Was it… flattering? That would annoy someone who thought I was overstepping.
“…Ridiculous.”
See? He was annoyed… right?
It felt familiar. Not just familiar—I’d definitely seen it before.
‘Ahh!’
‘…He’s laughing.’
No, that couldn’t be.
No way… I’m not copying that. Forget it.
“You chatter too much; I can’t sleep.”
He suddenly complained, turning his back on me. I had told him to close his eyes… when he didn’t listen before.
“I’ll be quiet from now on.”
His straight shoulders rose and fell slowly, draped in an old shawl that clashed with the high-quality bedding. Was I not getting it back?
“Stay right there. Don’t run away.”
I wasn’t going anywhere, yet he insisted. Possessive male lead?
“I won’t go.”
His steady breathing was the only sound.
Finding Narcis in the cleaning closet felt like a dream.
What was scary about a room without ghosts? I didn’t know what tormented him so much that he hid and trembled in that cramped space.
“Sleep well, young master.”
I hoped he rested peacefully.
Ah, right. Holly!
I only remembered after leaving the room once Narcis fell asleep.
More precisely, I remembered when I had caught Holly wailing to a patrolman.
“He’s gone! He’s gone! He’s surely been taken by a ghost! Waaaaah…!”
“Calm down… wait, isn’t that person over there?”
“Calm? Calm, you say? My family disappeared… how can I calm down…!”
Her reddish curly hair whipped around like a poodle.
Her tear-streaked, wide eyes met mine.
This felt like a scene from a horror movie.
“Annieee!”
Holly screamed and ran into my arms.
“Hahaha… sorry, I’m late.”
“Late? I’ve been looking for over an hour! What were you doing?”
Thankfully, she didn’t seem angry.
“You idiot! I thought you offered yourself as a sacrifice to the ghost!”
Her hands were fierce.
Smack, smack! I apologized as she hit my back.
“Ouch, ouch! Sorry!”
“You deserve a little more!”
I apologized to the exhausted patrolman, comforted Holly who was crying her eyes out, and returned to the room.
Holly wouldn’t let go, so we had to sleep curled up together in my bed.
During the next two weeks on lights-out duty, there was no meeting with Narcis on the first floor behind the main building.
‘If only you weren’t here…’
Narcis Trisen didn’t remember who had said it.
His birth mother had fled in the year he was born, and by the time he grew up, he called his stepmother “mother.”
Well, he did call her that…
“Your mother is in Lissa. You should call her ‘Highness’.”
So from Narcis’s earliest memory, Duchess Freda was addressed as “Your Highness.”
“It’s better to also use honorifics for the Duke. Don’t you agree, Narcis?”
The Duchess, in a fancy red dress with flowing navy hair, tilted her glass and giggled.
The Duke’s only heir obeyed.
“Father! Fight me!”
His half-brother had been seeking the Duke’s attention ever since he could walk and talk.
The Duke was often absent but never treated his young son coldly.
“You’ll spar when you can wield a sword.”
“Command me!”
“Not command, spar.”
He seemed happier than when with his father.
“You, young master, resemble your lord.”
When his hair was still black, everyone who saw him said the same.
The Duke’s black hair and red eyes weren’t only inherited by him.
The second son was meant as a substitute for the first, in case something happened.
The Duke’s remarriage to the duchess was partly for that reason. The vassals, led by the Marquis of Hilston, constantly debated the succession.
Narcis thought it didn’t have to be him; anyone could inherit, first or second.
“Narcis, my lovely son.”
Only Narcis truly felt that way.
Shadows and firelight flickered across the Duchess’s face in the bedroom.
“You are still beautiful tonight.”
On nights the Duke didn’t return, a cool hand touched his cheek.
It slid slowly.
“When will I be free of seeing this face?”
The blanket he hugged was suddenly taken away.
“When will it ever be…”
A hand reached out.
