“What exactly did you just blather on about?”
His voice, suppressing rage, cut through the air with a lethal edge. With no defense to offer, I remained silent. He let out a sharp, hollow laugh.
“Well, it’s all over now.”
“M-Master, Violet might understand.”
“Understand? Understand what? If you were in my shoes, could you fathom your fiancé becoming a blind cripple? How could anyone accept that? Once we marry, she’ll be shackled to a shell of a man for the rest of her life.”
“…….”
Because the brutal truth left me voiceless, I clamped my mouth shut. It hadn’t been my intention, but I was the one who had fanned the flames to this point.
A heavy silence permeated the room. Vincent Bellunita rubbed his face, while Ethan Christopher seemed lost in thought. Caught between them, I merely gauged the shifting currents of their moods.
“I don’t even want to look at you. Get out.”
“Calm down, Vincent.”
“You get out, too.”
Ethan sighed, unbothered. “Why are you acting so stuffy? We need to find a way out of this, don’t we? What changes if you kick us out right now?”
“…….”
“Why overthink it? Just meet her. That’s all.”
Vincent wore an expression that asked if this was some kind of insanity. I joined him in that sentiment. Under the weight of their gazes, Ethan explained with maddening calm.
“Why? It’s not difficult. Just pretend you can see, like you used to.”
“Back then, it wasn’t like this. I wasn’t completely sightless.”
“Instead, it was to the level of seeing only blurred shapes. You said you saw them as masses of light. But you still conversed just fine, didn’t you? You decoded their desires and their true motives. The other party never even knew you couldn’t see them. You’re good at that, aren’t you? Acting as if everything is pristine on the surface.”
“So.”
“Let’s try performing like we did before.”
Ethan tapped his hands together. His beaming face was as lighthearted as ever.
“You’re joking, right?”
“Honestly, it’s the only way.”
Ethan shrugged. Vincent narrowed his eyes, but this time he didn’t argue, letting out only a jagged sigh. I, having no way of knowing what ‘before’ Ethan was referring to, simply watched the two of them in turn.
“You did that on purpose just now, didn’t you?”
“Yes.”
A direct answer followed my whispered question. Ethan, who admitted to intentionally exposing my mistake, was truly brazen. Was this his plan all along? I wanted to strip away his true intentions, but he was the most inscrutable person I had ever met, so I gave up. Ethan just kept grinning.
“We’re being hated together now. It seems we make for a well-matched partnership, Maid.”
No. He’s just someone who finds joy in tormenting others. Wait—why is everyone doing this to me? What did I do so wrong? It’s truly exhausting to work as a maid.
“Maybe I should just quit.”
“Oh, don’t say such things. We’ve only just become close, Maid. I’d be sad.”
“Why are you speaking for yourself? I am not.”
I firmly shook my head and took a step to the side. Ethan glanced at me and then moved exactly as far as I had retreated. When I took another step, he followed again. I moved, he mirrored. Suddenly, a pointless tug-of-war ensued.
In the end, I was the one who stopped walking first.
“Still, thank you. For helping me.”
Honestly, if he hadn’t stepped in, I would have spent the whole time walking on eggshells like a criminal. In that sense, I was grateful. Ethan shrugged again.
“Don’t mention it.”
His light attitude actually seemed like consideration, meant to lighten my burden. Perhaps… he might be deeper than he looks?
“But tell me, Maid. May I ask one thing as well?”
“Yes, please go ahead.”
“Is your fringe like that on purpose?”
He asked, pointing to the hair covering more than half of my face. I instinctively clutched my bangs. My intention was to keep my features obscured.
“It’s such a pretty face, what a shame.”
“You’re good at joking, too.”
“I’m serious.”
“Really? Truly? Even if you’d have your lips branded with a hot iron if it’s a lie?”
He rolled his eyes left and right for a moment, then lightly covered his mouth with his hand.
“I was speaking of inner beauty.”
“You just said it was my face.”
“The inner part within the face.”
“Thank you for the empty flattery.”
I take back what I said. He is a person with whom one can never be even a little serious.
I pulled my bangs tighter against my skin and gave a short bow. Then, I approached Vincent, who sat prepared. He looked quite tense—reminiscent of the time he had been asked to walk just one step out of his room.
‘Why are you acting like a coward, unlike yourself? Don’t tell me you lack confidence? Has the great Count Bellunita, after being holed up in his room, seen his guts shrink to the size of a sparrow’s dropping?’
‘Shut your mouth.’
‘So let’s do it. Meet Violet, have a few words, and send her away with your reassurance. I’ll handle the direction, and the Maid will handle the prep. You just have to act. Let’s make a perfect play. How about it?’
By pricking at his pride, Ethan subtly led him. And Vincent, knowing this, never truly argued. His silence was his consent.
The result was the current situation.
We were now in the drawing-room close to his bedchamber, the stage for our performance. Direction by Ethan, preparation by me, performance by Vincent.
The script was simple: Vincent would invite Violet to this room. Once he was seated, Violet would enter and sit opposite him. Vincent would bring up the pre-arranged conversation. It was crucial to keep it short; if it dragged on, secrets were bound to slip out. He would then excuse himself, pleading fatigue, and I would spirit him back to his room.
“Now, the most important thing is where you direct your gaze. You must plant the thought in her mind that ‘he is looking at you’.”
“I know.”
“Master, don’t worry. As long as you match your gaze well, she won’t even imagine you can’t see. When you throw things and lose your temper, even I forget sometimes.”
“…….”
“No, really—how much of a tantrum do you have to throw for the maid to forget you’re blind? And why do you throw things? It’s dangerous. You’re truly being too much. Don’t go around calling yourself a gentleman.”
Ethan clicked his tongue. I signaled him to stop. Vincent groped the air, seemingly wanting to prove his lack of gentlemanly grace right then and there, so I lightly took his hand.
“First, I will let you know the position of the teacup. With your waist straight, if you lean forward slightly, the edge of the table will touch your palm. Like this.”
I placed his palm on the table’s edge.
“And if you extend your fingers in that state, you will reach the teacup immediately.”
As he extended his fingers, his fingertips brushed the china. He reached a little further, hooking his finger through the handle. He lifted it to his lips with fluid grace.
“When you put your hand on the table, it’s fine to grope a little. Just don’t make it too obvious.”
“If you grope with the feeling of only using your fingertips, it won’t be that obvious.”
“Don’t go tapping only with your fingertips, either. That’s even more conspicuous.”
“If you move just a tiny bit, it should be fine.”
“Whose instructions am I supposed to follow?”
He furrowed his brows and set the cup down. The clinking sound against the saucer was grating. In our current state, everything felt painfully sensitive.
I checked the positions of the teacup, the flower vase, and the cookies. I placed the vase in the center and adjusted the cup to be within his reach.
“Now, let’s match the gaze. Maid. Come here.”
Ethan gestured. I approached and sat on the sofa opposite Vincent—the very spot where Violet would be.
“Vincent, look this way.”
“Where are you talking about?”
“Straight ahead. I’ve placed the sofa directly in front of you, Master.”
He turned his head, following the direction of my voice, but his eyes wandered aimlessly. I jumped to my feet, grabbed his face, and forced our eyes to meet.
“Like this.”
At the sudden contact, he flinched. His brows furrowed deeply at the sound of my voice, but I didn’t care; I adjusted his face until he looked straight ahead.
“You just have to look forward like this.”
I let go of him slightly. His eyes were still unfocused.
“Please, look this way.”
As if answering my plea, his emerald eyes blinked and slowly began to shift. Hesitantly, his pupils locked onto mine.
He is looking at me.
In an instant, my heart plummeted.
Meeting his gaze from this proximity, it felt as though he were truly seeing me. The illusion that those murky emerald eyes were shimmering with life, holding my reflection within them, was intoxicating. Caught in that delusion, I took a step back, my breath hitching in my throat.