TVMF 16

Chapter: 16

“Shh.”

A boy’s voice whispered near my ear.

Wondering why, I checked the mini-map that appeared at the edge of my vision. Sure enough, white diamond-shaped markers—indicating other people—were blinking as they drew closer.

Oh?

As expected of Adrian, whose physical abilities were exceptional—he noticed presences incredibly fast.

Perhaps because someone unexpected was approaching, I could feel the boy’s heart beating rapidly.

It wasn’t yet break time, so servants shouldn’t have been coming this way.
I had checked the time on purpose and planned this carefully, so who on earth was it?

“Damn it, that old hag! Her mood changes faster than boiling soup, and why does she give so many orders?!”

Huh?

“Ugh, I’m so stressed my neck feels all stiff!”

I carefully peeked between the tables—and it turned out to be one of Melisandra’s lackeys.

What was her name again? Rasmin, I think?

Unlike the cold, professional image she had when standing beside the Duchess, she was surprisingly full of complaints.

“Right now—”

Just as I tried to whisper, Adrian hurriedly covered my mouth.

Though he was still young, his hand was much larger than mine. Meanwhile, his wide blue eyes—opened in alarm, afraid the servant might hear—looked oddly cute.

Still holding me, Adrian subtly tilted his head and watched the situation.

Rasmin, apparently unaware of our presence, pulled a large key from her pocket and unlocked the door.

Clank.

“They suddenly let out the young master they said they were locking up, and now they’re throwing some kind of banquet too…”

Rasmin muttered as she entered the room.

“Anyway, I’d better write down the rest of the orders before I forget again. Where did I put that diary after writing last time…?”

Soon after, with the door still open, we heard her humming to herself and the sound of thick pages being flipped.

‘She wrote down all the orders she received from Melisandra in her personal diary?’

If so, there was a high chance the whereabouts of the suddenly vanished head butler would also be written in there.

‘We need to get that diary.’

Adrian and I exchanged a brief glance.

Then, without a word, we both moved.

It was an unspoken agreement—we would each do what we were best at to obtain what we needed.

“Um—hello?! Is anyone here?!”

As soon as I shouted loudly, Adrian quietly slipped into a position where he wouldn’t be noticed even if Rasmin came out.

Moments later, she stepped outside, having left her diary unfinished.

“Who is it? It’s not break time—what are you doing loitering around here… Huh? Lady Utel?”

“I found you, Butler!”

“I’m not a but—”

Fortunately, regardless of whatever Rasmin tried to say, I ran straight at her and grabbed onto the hem of her trousers.

“I want mini tarts with Fioren raspberry jam!”

—Ding!

[Lv.3 ‘Deception’ skill effect: Your acting becomes natural.]
[You appear extremely picky and immature.]

“…Didn’t I already prepare three different jam tarts for you?”

Rasmin muttered in exhaustion at my childish, fussy behavior.

Of course, I didn’t back down.

“There wasn’t raspberry among them! And I don’t want just any raspberry! I want Fioren raspberry!”

“Haaah…”

“Did you just sigh because I’m being annoying?”

“No.”

Rasmin barely managed to control her expression as she brushed her fallen hair back.

“Please go to the kitchen and tell them. Shall I escort you there?”

“No!”

I shook my head stubbornly.

“I’m a guest, and I already came all the way here—now I have to go to the kitchen myself? I came to find you so you could do it for me!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Adrian moving astonishingly quietly into the butler’s office.

Knowing I had to seal the deal, I acted even more desperately.

—Ding!

[SYSTEM: Your acting is gaining momentum.]
[SKILL: Lv.3 ‘Deception’ effect — ‘Triple Crown Winner of the Three Major Broadcasting Acting Awards’ has been activated.]

What even is that?

Anyway, with acting worthy of sweeping all major acting awards, what I did was…

Regrettably, even more outrageously throwing a tantrum.

“Hurry! Hurry! Raspberry jam mini tarts—Fioren raspberry! Fioren raspberry mini—pira—pira—Roshe, please!”

I squeezed my eyes shut, raised my voice, stomped my feet—and then cracked my eyes open slightly.

Rasmin was trembling, unable to say a single word, her gaze flinging every curse imaginable at me.

“I’ll… go to the kitchen and tell them.”

Poor soul… Well, whose fault was it for choosing the wrong side?

“HUR-RY! UP!”

I pushed harder just to drive her away faster.

If necessary, I was ready to be dragged off to some child behavior correction program—
Wait, that doesn’t exist here.

Anyway, I was even prepared to throw myself on the floor.

Just as I was halfway down—

“I’m going! I said I’m going! So please, just stay put!”

As if fleeing, Melisandra’s lackey hurried away.

And over me, wearing a victorious smile, a slightly smaller shadow fell.

“Rohesia.”

“……”

Because I was sitting awkwardly, half-collapsed, I wasn’t sure what expression to make.

But after hearing Adrian’s next words, I adopted a very serious look.

“Come in here. There’s something we need to check together.”

✦ ✦ ✦

The butler’s room was… strange.

Basically elegant and calm—but scattered with items that didn’t fit the atmosphere at all.

Things like ‘Latest Trend in Men’s Button Accessories’ flyers, ‘Butler Certification Exam Practice Book’, and ‘How to Coexist with a Short-Tempered Superior’.

It seemed that after the former old butler’s room was taken over by the Duchess’s lackey, it had become like this.

Among them, Adrian showed me the diary lying on the desk.

As I slowly skimmed through the neatly dated entries, I sank into an abyss of growing seriousness.

On the eastern side of the Velas estate stood dignified, refined buildings.

The Duke and his family’s living quarters, the guest pavilion, the training grounds, and the gardens.

Naturally, the main gate of the ducal estate was also located in the east.

On the other hand, buildings that were necessary but relatively modest were scattered sparsely to the west.

For example, the servants’ quarters. The food storage.

And the tower housing the laundry room—where every piece of laundry in the estate passed through.

Just as there was hierarchy by status, there was also hierarchy among servants.

At the very top stood the head butler.

At the very bottom were the servants assigned to the laundry room.

It was the hardest, most exhausting job in the estate—one where hands were never dry.

Even so, no one could deny the importance of the laundry work. Without it, not even the Duke himself could wear clean clothes.

And here, right now, was a man laundering clothes more meticulously than anyone else.

“White clothes must be washed separately like this. Otherwise, the color will bleed from other garments.”

A calm voice carried an air of education and integrity.

The man paused while stirring soapy water with his thick arm.

“Oh—lace garments must always be washed alone. If the decorations are damaged, it would be disastrous.”

Hands as large as pot lids lifted a thin piece of fabric from the basin.

Just then, another servant entered through the open door.

“Hey! Hurry up and bring those out already! Damn it, why are you so slow?!”

“But white clothes must be washed separately, and lace garments require individual washing.”

“Damn it, those are servants’ clothes! It doesn’t matter how they’re washed!”

The servant shouted, pounding his chest in frustration.

“Do you think you’re the head butler or something? Why did some idiot like you end up here?”

Ironically, the man was the head butler of this estate.

Graying hair. A large build. A dignified face well-suited to his former role.

But his attire was not that of a butler.

His position had been stripped away, and he had been confined here—no different from exile among servants.

One side of the room was piled high with mountains of laundry.

Rasmin’s diary read:

[October 15
The Duke has finally gone to war. Now only those who obey the Duchess’s orders remain in the estate.
For her plan to seize control of the ducal household to succeed, the biggest obstacle—the head butler—must be dealt with. There was some resistance, but he has been successfully confined.
Letting him leave the estate would surely lead to trouble, so he will be handled internally.]

[October 21
The Duke’s son has been locked in the basement. If only he had obeyed the Duchess, he could have lived quietly, doted upon—but father and son are alike in their viciousness.
The head butler, who would have opposed imprisoning the young master most fiercely, was dealt with in advance.
A memory-erasing drug. It cost extra through shady channels, but it’s a magical potion, so its effectiveness is guaranteed.
I wonder how it feels… to rot away in the despised laundry room.]

They had poisoned the head butler, erased his memories, and imprisoned him in the laundry room.

“Who are you? Get out of here!”

Only then did the servant notice us beside the large wash cauldron and shout.

He didn’t even recognize Adrian—the young master of the estate—let alone me.

They rarely saw the Duke’s family, and never imagined Adrian would come all the way to this forgotten corner of the estate.

If they couldn’t recognize the master or guests, it was only natural they wouldn’t recognize the head butler either.

“If all this laundry isn’t done by the time I come back, you’ll regret it!”

We waited until the servant left in a huff—then quietly approached.