-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Vine
Chapter: 27
Chapter Title: The Coming Weekend
-----------------------------------------------------------------
After the maids withdrew without any results, Aracilla organized the relevant documents and went to find Demian.
"Everyone even remotely connected to Rosaline and the Head Maid has been put on the termination list. I'll proceed with this."
"Yes, do so."
Demian quickly scanned the names on the paper and nodded. Even though more than half of the maids who had worked at the estate for years were leaving, he seemed unfazed.
Aracilla gazed at his sharp features, as if carved by a finely honed blade, and asked,
"Are you alright?"
"What makes you ask if I'm alright?"
"The Head Maid worked under you for quite a long time, didn't she? For someone like that to betray you, I imagined the sense of betrayal and loss would be significant."
At her words, Demian's fingers twitched. He felt a strange mix of emotions at the unexpected remark.
As she said, the Head Maid, whom he had kept by his side for a long time, had abandoned him, yet Aracilla, whom he had only recently met, understood his feelings.
It was truly ironic, evoking a peculiar emotion that was neither sadness nor being moved.
However, without revealing his inner thoughts, he faced Aracilla with an impassive expression.
"I wasn't aware you had such a delicate side, Madam."
"Don't I look kind, benevolent, and highly empathetic at first glance?"
"You look exactly like me."
"...If that sounds like an insult, then my empathy must be lacking, wouldn't you say?"
Seeing Aracilla's subtly serious expression, Demian let out a small chuckle. He sat on the windowsill, arms crossed, and said,
"In any case, the Head Maid wasn't someone I particularly cherished."
"Still, it must have been quite a shock."
"I'm used to it, so it's fine."
Used to it? Just as Aracilla was about to ask what he meant by that oddly unsettling word, Demian spoke again.
"By the way, Madam seems quite fond of that maid, Audrey."
"Extremely fond, yes."
"Is there a particular reason?"
While many nobles held unusual affection for their personal maids, Demian found it an incomprehensible emotion and was curious.
As far as he knew, maids were always traitors.
"Audrey was the first person to recognize my true worth."
Aracilla explained calmly.
"When I was little, everyone just thought I was peculiar; no one truly understood me."
For example, when she was a child, Aracilla had once attended a noblewoman's charity event with her sister.
After a common storytelling session, the noblewoman asked the children about their future aspirations, one by one.
'I'm going to be a splendid knight.'
'I want to be a princess.'
'Me! I want to be like Papa!'
'A wise mother and good wife, like Mama.'
While everyone else stated ordinary aspirations, Aracilla's answer was different.
'The greatest mage in the world.'
She was young then, and wanted to be a Mage first, not the Magic Tower Master.
But no one understood the little girl who mentioned a specific profession.
They simply thought,
'Aracilla is unique. It's alright, she'll grow out of it when she's older.'
They treated it as the naive ramblings of a child. Her peers were no different, so Aracilla had no friends.
It was the result of constantly fighting with kids who teased her for being strange.
The Marchioness, worried that her second daughter would grow up a loner, brought in Audrey as a play-maid, and that's how the two first met.
'Audrey, when I grow up, I'm going to be a super strong Mage. And I'm going to have the whole world.'
'Really? That's so cool, Lady.'
Unlike others, Audrey's eyes sparkled as she cheered Aracilla on. She never dismissed her as peculiar or strange.
'It's truly amazing to have such a concrete goal from such a young age.'
'Hmm, really?'
'Of course! You're clearly going to become a wonderful adult, Lady. And you'll definitely be a super strong Mage.'
'Thank you. If that happens, I'll share a little bit of the world with you.'
'Thank you. My childhood dream was to rule the world as a Demon King, anyway.'
That attitude had never changed, not once, from the day they first met until now.
'My Lady can achieve anything she sets her mind to. Always be confident.'
That's why Audrey couldn't help but be special to Aracilla.
"Only Audrey consistently supported my dreams. Even my sister didn't quite understand me when I was little."
In truth, Iris had grown up as a typical noble Lady, with a personality completely opposite to Aracilla's.
Even if her sister was more precious than her own dreams, what was true was true.
"Maid or master aside, having someone like that by your side is a stroke of luck. It's something you can't buy, no matter how much money you pour into it."
"...You are correct."
Demian agreed, his eyes distant. Suddenly, Aracilla wondered if he, too, had such a person.
Had there ever been someone in Demian Vandermir's life who would never give up on him, always taking his side, no matter when or where?
'Well, he's a distinguished knight, so of course there would have been. Just in the Red Hawk Knights alone, there are quite a few.'
Having finished her business, Aracilla gathered the documents and prepared to leave the office.
"I'll be going now. Keep up the good work."
"Yes, you as well, Madam."
* * *
Before that week was over, more than half of the maids were dismissed without letters of recommendation. They would likely never be able to work as maids again.
The day after the dismissals, Aracilla brought in a large number of maids from the Hugo Marquisate to the Vandermir Estate.
Of course, it wasn't easy; she had to endure her mother, the Marchioness, nagging her with, 'Ugh, you should have listened to your mother from the start!' and getting a smack on the back before she could bring them.
With those who had fostered a hostile atmosphere gone, the remaining maids became docile.
No one dared challenge the Lady's authority now. What had happened among the maids spread throughout the estate, and other servants also became more mindful.
"This is Emma, the new Head Maid. I hope you all get along well."
Aracilla smiled sweetly, having appointed the person her mother recommended as the new Head Maid. With this, perfect peace had arrived at the Vandermir Estate.
While she was organizing the interior of the estate, Demian was in charge of interrogating the spies.
At first, both denied everything, but under harsh torture, they eventually spat out the truth.
"The Vandermir Ducal Family ordered it! They told us to make the Master and Madam divorce no matter what. Or to find any flaw that could lead to divorce. Please, please forgive me!"
Shortly after Rosaline broke, the Head Maid also confessed.
"The Ducal Family approached me, offering to pay off my son's gambling debts. They said all I had to do was let Rosaline into the estate and help her... I'm sorry, Master. I'm truly sorry."
It seemed they had been quiet after the marriage because they were busy plotting such schemes behind the scenes.
Demian swept a hand over his face and let out a sharp laugh. Sharp canines glinted through his parted lips.
'The more this happens, the more I want to find my grandfather's will quickly.'
If only he could reveal the Former Duke's will, which bequeathed the family to the grandson who married a Hugo granddaughter, Demian would immediately become the official successor.
Then, everything else would be smooth sailing.
The problem was that he didn't know where his grandfather's will was kept. So, he was currently trying to find it.
'I need to move as quickly as possible to end this marriage soon...'
As Demian stood by the window, looking out, Aracilla suddenly came into his view, strolling in the garden.
Her fresh face and light footsteps. Her light purple hair, swaying in the breeze, appeared brighter than usual in the sunlight.
'It would be hard to find a wife as intelligent, beautiful, and capable as me anywhere else. You know that, right?'
Suddenly, he remembered what Aracilla had said when she proposed. He had scoffed at the time, but now he saw she was right.
At present, there would be no wife as helpful to him as Aracilla.
Acknowledging that fact, Demian spoke as soon as Aracilla entered his office.
"Let's go on a date, Madam."
At the words, which came before she had even closed the door, Aracilla glanced around for a moment.
No one was here.
That meant there was no need for him to act like the affectionate husband he only pretended to be when others were watching. So why was he doing this?
'Has he acted so much that his persona has consumed his true self?'
Aracilla gave him a suspicious look, firmly closed the door, and sat on the sofa. Her expression was so unenthusiastic, it was hard to believe she had just been asked on a date.
"Perhaps you've already gone hard of hearing and didn't catch what I said?"
"I'm younger than you, Demian, so say something that makes sense. Why are *you* acting like an affectionate husband when no one else is around?"
Aracilla narrowed her eyes and mimicked Demian's tone.
"Perhaps you've already developed dementia and forgotten we're just acting?"
"Hah, don't misunderstand; I'm not doing this because I like it either."
Demian, still perched on the windowsill, furrowed his brows. She simply wouldn't back down. Of course, he supposed this was better than her being frustratingly quiet.
"Rosaline apparently wrote in detail to the Ducal Family about the strained relationship between us. They could use that as an excuse to push for a divorce."
"Ah, so you want to go on a date to show a united front and prevent any potential rumors?"
"Now you're finally understanding, Madam."
Aracilla nodded, thinking it was quite a talent to make such a pleasant voice and gentle tone feel so obnoxious.
"Alright. I'll accept your date invitation."
"I'm so overwhelmed with emotion, it's almost too much to bear."
Demian let out a deflated chuckle and walked towards his desk. He picked up the documents lying on it and said,
"Then, let's have our date this weekend."
"Alright."
With his gaze fixed on the documents, Demian gave a slight nod.
"I've said all I need to say, so you may leave now."
Ugh, the nerve.
At the rudeness of being told to leave without even being looked at, Aracilla sprang to her feet. And she slammed the door shut with a bang as she left.
Demian frowned at the sudden noise attack.
In their mutual efforts to annoy each other, neither of them realized they had just agreed to their first date.
* * *
It wasn't until two days before the weekend that the date came to mind. Demian headed to the bedroom rather late in the evening.
Still, he needed to confirm Aracilla's preferences today if he wanted to prepare for the date tomorrow.
Knock, knock. When he knocked on the door, he heard a rustling sound from inside. A moment later, Aracilla's face peeked out from the gap in the door.
"Demian? What brings you here at this hour? Are you planning to sleep here tonight?"
"No. I came to ask something."
"What is it?"
"I'm trying to book a restaurant, and..."
Demian's voice trailed off ambiguously as he unconsciously looked down. His gaze suddenly wandered into the air. Aracilla tilted her head.
"What are you looking at right now?"
"..."
"Demian?"
He closed his eyes tightly and his lips parted briefly.
"Your robe."
"Huh?"
"...Close your robe."
Aracilla was currently wearing a thin slip under a bath robe.
From the strong scent of fragrant oil, it seemed she had just finished bathing. The ends of her still-damp hair were wet.
"Ah."
Aracilla casually but firmly tightened the slightly loose robe. Only then did Demian's gaze return to normal, and he let out a dry laugh.
"Are you not careful, Madam?"
"I'm not going to die from showing a little skin, am I?"
Her robe wasn't wide open, after all, and Aracilla didn't pay it much mind.
At her audacious remark, Demian closed his eyes once more and sighed, saying,
"May I book the Vesta Restaurant on 7th Street? After dinner, we can enjoy a boat ride on the nearby lake. There will be many people, so rumors about our date will spread quickly."
"Sounds good. Let's do that."
"Understood. Have a good night."
Demian bowed politely and left without looking back. Aracilla hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye.
Watching his tall figure disappear down the dim corridor, she clicked her tongue.
Strictly speaking, she was the one who had shown some skin, so why was he running away as if he were the one who had revealed it?
He was quite a ridiculous man.
