“I'll get the door.”
Erich stood up and walked to the door. As his fingers brushed against the wood, he instinctively looked back. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the chair Irene had been sitting on was already empty.
He pushed the door open to find Margaret standing outside. The moonlight cast a thin, silvery outline around the maid.
“Pardon the intrusion,” she said, giving a slight, textbook-perfect maid's bow. Before Erich could say a word, she walked right in. Her gaze swept over the room, and she naturally sat down on the edge of the bed, smoothing out the creases in the sheets as she did.
Erich, on the other hand, froze at the doorway, a chill running down his spine.
Where was Irene? Where did a whole person go? It had only taken him a few seconds to walk from the bedside to the door. How could a living, breathing person just evaporate from a chair?
He instinctively wanted to look around for her, but Margaret was sitting on the bed, facing directly toward the door. The moment she looked up, she would see his every move. He couldn't make it too obvious, so he suppressed the shock and suspicion in his heart and pulled the door shut.
“Do you need me to furnish this place with some more furniture?”
The maid had already quickly assessed Erich's cabin. Her professional eye told her this room was in dire need of an upgrade.
Margaret's voice pulled Erich back from his thoughts. Finally snapping out of his daze, he sat down on the chair Irene had just been occupying.
A lingering warmth still radiated from the seat. There was no way this temperature was an illusion. Irene had definitely been sitting here just moments ago, telling him about her past, and had even left behind her body heat. So where was she now? The room was only this big—a bed, a desk, a chair, a wardrobe, and a bookshelf. She couldn't have just vanished into thin air.
Erich didn't dare look under the bed. Margaret was sitting right on it. If Irene really was underneath, and he looked down, the situation would become completely unmanageable.
When it came down to it, it would have been fine if they had just explained things honestly from the start. But with Irene hiding like this, even an innocent situation would look highly suspicious.
“Thank you for the kind offer. If I need anything, I'll let you know.”
He kept his tone natural, making sure the maid wouldn't notice anything amiss. At the same time, a cold sensation crept up from the soles of his feet and up his calves. Was there really someone under his bed right now?
Margaret nodded, folding her hands over her lap. After deliberating over her words for a moment, she spoke. “Thank you very much for that battle.”
“Why are you thanking me? I beat Alicia pretty badly.”
Although that ice spike hadn't hit any vital spots, it was definitely painful and humiliating enough. He still remembered how Alicia had squirmed on the ground. Every time he thought about it, he wanted to laugh, though he couldn't help but wonder if doing that was a bit too wicked.
Margaret smiled and shook her head. “In any case, this is a thank-you gift.”
She reached into her breast pocket, pulled out a business card, and handed it over.
Whether before or after his transmigration, Erich had rarely experienced being given gifts. He hesitated for a moment before reaching out to take it.
The card had a pale gold pattern that shimmered subtly in the moonlight. It had a fine, matte texture to the touch, with embossed patterns on the four corners. It looked expensive at a glance. On the back, an address and a shop name were printed, along with a few lines of information resembling a receipt number.
“What is this?”
“The young mistress said your wand is too cheap. She said if she wins next time, it would be an unfair victory, so she ordered a custom wand for you. You can pick it up next week.”
Custom wands. Erich had seen this service in the memories of his original body. When the original Erich was a child, he had visited a custom workshop with his uncle and seen the price list on display. The fees were not cheap. The molding fee alone was enough to pay a Gravekeeper for decades, not to mention the bulk of the cost, like materials and enchantments. Alicia had lost the match and still sent a gift; he couldn't quite follow this girl's train of thought.
“She really is a good person,” Erich said in all sincerity.
Margaret probably hadn't expected him to be so blunt, and she let out a faint smile.
“And also, regarding that wager...”
As she spoke, her voice suddenly dropped, and her head lowered. Her gaze fell to her knees, her fingers unconsciously pinching a corner of her maid skirt. Erich waited for her to continue, but she seemed to have frozen up, a faint blush slowly spreading across her cheeks.
After a long while, she gave a light cough, her voice so soft it was almost inaudible. “What type of girl do you prefer?”
What a clumsy subject change, Erich thought. Moreover, the flustered maid seemed to have asked a question she would absolutely never say under normal circumstances. Staring at Margaret's reddening earlobes, he suddenly felt a surge of amusement. After a brief thought, he spoke in a serious tone:
“If I had to say... a good personality, sound values, gentle and accommodating, with a faint fragrance. Someone who always wears white thigh-highs for me, looks serious on the outside but has a surprising gap, has a delicate heart, keeps her most passionate side only for me, and most importantly, the feelings must be mutual. That's about it.”
He spoke as if he were describing a specific person.
Initially, Margaret didn't react much, simply listening to Erich's description. But then, for some reason, she looked down at her own legs. She was wearing the over-the-knee white stockings that came with the Wayne family maid uniform. The stockings stopped just above her knees, and her skirt hem ended slightly above the stocking tops, revealing less than an inch of absolute territory.
Then, extremely quickly and almost instinctively, she raised her wrist and sniffed her cuff. There was a scent so faint it was barely noticeable—the gardenia perfume she had sprayed before leaving this morning. It was her usual scent, and it hadn't fully dissipated yet.
The maid's face flushed red at a speed visible to the naked eye. The blush rapidly spread from her cheeks down to her neck. Her head sank lower and lower, almost burying itself in her chest, not daring to spare Erich another glance.
Seeing her like this, Erich couldn't help but chuckle.
As if sensing his amused gaze, Margaret's body went stiff. She abruptly stood up from the edge of the bed, her skirt fluttering with her movement. Right at that moment—
Knock, knock, knock.
A knock sounded at the door.
Before Erich could even react, Margaret did something nobody would have expected.
She squatted down with lightning speed and slid under the bed like a giant cat, her movements clean, swift, and completely silent.
Erich stared blankly at the bed. The old bedsheet hanging from the edge perfectly concealed the shadows beneath, showing absolutely nothing.
So, was Irene under the bed? How many people were down there now? If Irene wasn't under the bed, where did she go?
Before Erich could figure out this riddle, the door was already pushed open.
The young princess stood at the doorway.
Rate on N.U.
