“I want to move a bit more.”
Elena felt an itch inside, as she was only using the sword according to what she’d learned in the duke’s household. When she said her skills were gradually improving, it seemed she could wield the sword more freely. (*Just as I learned, just as I learned.*) Elena tried to reassure herself and focused on the target.
In truth, she didn’t care much about her surroundings. Her personality wasn’t bad, and she thought her mild aloofness in all matters was an asset, but here she discovered a new side of herself. She often found guidance and criticism extremely irritating.
*Why! Why do the crooked things I don’t see only appear in the young lord’s eyes!*
*Thwack, thwack, thwack!*
The wooden dummy trembled as if it were about to break with each of Elena’s sword strikes. The knight in charge of training grew exasperated and quietly stepped back.
“Miss Elena, your hand, your hand…”
*Smack!*
“Haha, ha! Training to exhaustion is a great way to improve skill.”
Though the knight’s eyes sparkled with admiration for Elena, he steadily retreated. He clenched his fist, resolving to inform the commander about a maid with exceptional skill.
But the word “flee” due to the gallantry of a maid who’d only been training for a few months had to remain a secret. Everyone, including the knight and others present, was suddenly retreating.
Their gazes met, and they nodded in agreement, all feeling the same fear.
Rowen, who’d been lingering nearby out of curiosity, clicked her tongue and quickly turned when she noticed the intense force emanating from behind Elena, fleeing far away.
“Doesn’t it seem like Elena doesn’t realize how skilled she is with the sword?”
Rowen spoke to Bessie as they stood far from the training grounds. Their gazes turned to Elena as she struck the training dummy.
“It seems so. I think Elena becomes more focused and stronger when she’s angry.”
“Maybe. Thomas says she’s on the verge of collapsing from exhaustion.”
Rowen chuckled lightly. Though she didn’t know what the young lord was thinking, Elena’s skills had suddenly improved over the past few days. Her awkward stances had been corrected, and her sword strikes had grown stronger.
“Does the young lord know a way to provoke Elena and spur her on?”
“Is the young lord that clever?”
Bessie shook her head, dismissing the idea. Even if the young lord was adept at reading people, pushing things to this extent wasn’t easy. It seemed there was another reason behind his unique behavior.
“The young lord is a genius! There’s nothing he can’t do.”
Rowen suddenly lowered her raised voice and said,
“Right. He’s naturally skilled at attracting people.”
Bessie nodded, recalling how the young lord always brought in new talent. She decided that when the opportunity arose, she’d sneak a peek at the young lord’s room without being noticed.
—
“Isn’t it true that you’re still thinking about what Miss Lewis said recently?”
Carl responded with a lenient expression:
“Of course, am I not a forgiving lord?”
With a gentle smile, Carl cautiously answered Robin’s question, his eyes filled with satisfaction.
*He’s still thinking about it!* Robin was certain the young lord was still inwardly conflicted; otherwise, he wouldn’t keep coming out to reprimand him these past few days.
Robin said, “Miss Lewis is undoubtedly the queen of cleaning. Since she arrived, the room has been sparkling. She doesn’t care about romantic matters, which aligns perfectly with what the young lord wants. There’s a lot of paperwork in the office; it’s better if you don’t enter the bedroom too often.”
With a mildly reproachful tone, Robin made his request.
These days, the room saw servants coming to observe the young lord’s strange behavior, though their glances were limited to cautious curiosity from a distance.
Carl chuckled lightly as he entered the office.
Robin was determined to hold onto Miss Lewis until the end, regardless of the young lord’s wishes. She truly performed her duties flawlessly!
Not everyone had to love the young lord. Since it wasn’t his business, Robin had grown accustomed to hearing that the noble lord’s face wasn’t to everyone’s taste.
He decided that if Miss Lewis ever chose to resign, he’d cling to the hem of her dress! She was skilled with her hands, and those who evaluated her always praised her personality, which made people feel at ease around her.
One of her strengths was that she was never swayed by the rumors circulating among the servants, maintaining her focus on her success and good reputation in the duke’s household, which was a great source of satisfaction for him.
Expressing his admiration, Robin said, “Despite working with the young lord, who isn’t to your taste, you perform your duties exceptionally well. That’s something I really admire.”
At times, the young lord seemed more rigid than a needle passing through ribs. When he flashed his crooked smile, a cold sweat ran down Robin’s back.
Robin said seriously, “No joking, please. And no teasing. Please, just work in the office.”
Carl responded with sarcasm, “I’m old enough to be a grandfather! Do you think joking at my age is illegal?”
Robin replied confidently, “Exactly, it’s a crime! And it deserves a harsh penalty.”
Carl smirked slyly, “Do you think your words are convincing with that expression? Have you served me for just a day or two? Please, don’t let us hear about your resignation or transfer elsewhere.”
With a mix of disappointment, Carl said, “You don’t trust me, do you?”
The young lord’s pale silver eyebrows, matching his hair, drooped slightly, giving his face an air of sadness and parting.
Rowen looked at the seemingly despondent young lord and felt pity, but then recalled how adept he was at exploiting his handsome face.
*My goodness, this devil.*
His lord knew exactly how to wield his weapon effectively. He was fully aware of its powerful impact. That’s why, even when he ruthlessly used his face like this, people never suspected him. Robin inwardly scoffed.
With a mocking smile, he said,
“Thank goodness he’s not to your taste, so I don’t have to dispose of a body.”
The stern servant ignored the young lord and handed him the papers to sign.
“This is the first time I’ve been so directly rejected.”
“But you haven’t even confessed your feelings.”
Carl sighed as he smoothly signed the papers, and Robin, thinking the young lord was more shocked than expected, chuckled lightly.
Carl said, crossing his arms seriously, “Haven’t women always loved me?”
He glanced at the mirror on the office wall, then flashed a wide, radiant smile as if it were calculated. The smile was deliberately dazzling, making the atmosphere around him shimmer.
Robin’s expression shifted, looking as if he’d eaten spoiled food, and said sarcastically, “Why is the young lord using his charm on men?”
Robin clicked his tongue, “Isn’t this a form of narcissism?”
Surprised, Carl retorted sharply, “I’m just stating the truth, what’s the problem?”
Carl sighed dismissively and continued reviewing the documents. Robin hoped Miss Lewis would settle well as the bedroom maid.
He was too busy to closely monitor how Miss Lewis cared for the room and the young lord. He hoped their relationship would stabilize as a normal one between master and servant.
But the next morning, Carl sat in the bedroom again, ignoring Robin’s advice.
Pointing at the window with his fingers, Carl said while elegantly sipping his tea, “The right curtain has a small crease.”
Elena grumbled silently to herself, *Didn’t they say I was too busy?* The servants all pitied her, saying the young lord only came to the room to sleep, yet Elena encountered him more than anyone else.
She took a deep breath to stay calm, gently adjusting the curtain. She stepped back to meticulously inspect the window frame and curtain, clearly taking the task seriously. Her green eyes sparkled under the light.
“Our young lord isn’t cruel.”
Robin said with frustration, exasperated by the young lord’s nitpicking. From his perspective, the room was perfectly tidy, flawless. The man was so busy he barely had time for a cup of tea, yet he carried papers to check the room’s cleanliness.
Whatever Robin thought, Carl now began inspecting the bed. The bed, covered with a white sheet, was so neatly made it could cut paper. Carl inwardly admired this precision. He wasn’t exaggerating when he said Miss Lewis’s handiwork was impeccable.
Elena asked confidently, standing upright, “Are there any other instructions you’d like to give?”
Carl praised her, “Well done.”
Upon hearing those words, she suddenly felt as if his lenient comment had been nullified. His evaluation seemed to dip slightly due to his excessive pickiness. He’d seen how she was as strict as an elder sister, organizing her ledgers with firmness and precision.
Carl cast a final hesitant glance around the room, gathered his papers, and left. His face appeared relaxed and satisfied.
The book was right. Elena’s interactions had become deeper and more varied. She didn’t just respond with words; sometimes, she even blushed.
Unfortunately, Carl was caught in a delusion about her reactions and failed to read the overall atmosphere emanating from her correctly. As he walked lightly, he recalled the passage he’d read in the book the previous day:
[*Step Two*] Have the “coincidental” meetings become inevitable? Is she starting to blush and look at you with rosy eyes, leading to truly beautiful encounters?
If so, it’s time to focus. Gradually increase the time you spend together. If the meetings were brief at first, it’s best to start talking little by little. Discuss various topics with the other party.
“Increase the time, is that what it says?”
Though Elena was busy with her duties, it was hard to find more time for the relationship. Still, Carl believed he was a diligent student, sincerely following the instructions.
Whenever he looked at the room, he noticed small details Elena had overlooked. When he spoke to her, she responded shyly, as if blushing.
Her hand trembled slightly, and her face lit up with a faint pink hue. Compared to her initial rigid, expressionless face, she now seemed more vibrant.
Imagining the rosy transformation on her smooth, fair skin, Carl felt a strange warmth at the back of his neck. He stepped back and cleared his throat softly.
“Ahem.”
“This is the weakest level of emotion I need to stir to win over the other party,” Carl said, trying to push the image of her sparkling green eyes from his mind.
Carl, who had no experience with emotional interactions with women, was satisfied with his progress. In his imagination, scenes played out of Elena tearfully confessing her passionate love for him.
