Estelle Orot had always thought of herself as someone unshakable.
From the day she first put on a maid uniform, to this very moment five years later.
No matter what accident, humiliation, or delay in wages occurred, she had never been shaken.
Even if the young master she had somehow ended up serving was a terribly pathetic, terribly immature, suffocating sort of human being, all she had ever done was simply watch.
And yet.
‘……Why am I doing this right now?’
The tips of Estelle’s white-gloved fingers were trembling, ever so faintly.
Before her, standing in the middle of the office, was Ian Ash, sitting with his body leaned askew against the chair.
A pen in his right hand. A blank sheet of paper supported on his lap in his left.
Those gray eyes were looking up at Estelle, quiet and calm.
They were eyes devoid of emotion.
No anger, no desire, no hesitation. Only emptiness, and within that emptiness, nothing but concentration filled them.
The young master looked at Estelle with those eyes and said, as if it were nothing at all,
“The hem of your skirt.”
Short, clear, and firm.
A tone she never would have heard from the pathetic young master of before.
“Hold it. And lift it.”
Estelle’s breath stopped for the briefest moment.
An order she somehow could not refuse.
The chill that, until just moments ago, had seemed ready to cover the room in frost had completely melted under those three short words, and even Estelle herself could not understand why.
What she felt right now was simply this.
It felt as though Ian Ash had, for the first time, truly become someone she was meant to serve.
And so she could not disobey.
Estelle lightly bit her teeth together.
Then, slowly, she brought her hand to the edge of her skirt.
— Rustle.
The sound of the dress’s lining brushing against itself echoed low in the silent office.
Ian’s pen had not moved yet.
Only his eyes coldly and precisely followed what was slowly being revealed beneath Estelle’s hand.
The neat edge of her white stocking.
And above it.
Estelle’s hand stopped for an instant.
As if wondering whether it was all right to lift it higher,
her fingertips hesitated at that boundary.
“Don’t stop.”
It was Ian’s voice.
Neither cold nor hot.
Not a request, but as though he were simply stating a fact that naturally had to be so.
Estelle’s hand moved again.
Above the stocking.
The lace garter belt positioned at the very top of her thigh revealed itself in the light.
Ian’s gray eyes narrowed slightly.
For the first time, the pen brushed across the paper.
— Scratch. Scratch.
“Hold it just like that.”
“…….”
Estelle did not answer.
She simply froze, holding the hem of her skirt.
Because there had been no explanation, only commands.
There had been no explanation that he intended to draw her,
nor any request for permission to draw her body.
Just as if it were entirely natural.
Inside the white glove, she felt strength entering the tips of her fingers.
Ian’s gaze swept over the garter belt from top to bottom.
The texture of the lace.
The boundary where it touched white skin. That tiny hollow where the flesh was pressed in ever so slightly.
“There.”
It was a low murmur.
“The mark where the garter belt digs in. The angle needs to show a little better.”
So calmly, as if he were handling an object rather than a person...
Estelle’s mouth went dry.
You are mine.
And what is strange about me drawing what belongs to me? That was his attitude.
Even if she tried to resist, she did not know what she was supposed to say.
Because the young master was, by anyone’s standards, completely absorbed in the drawing right now.
Because he was examining her body solely for the purpose of drawing.
— I am Master’s possession. Please use me however you wish, wherever you wish.
The note that had been written in the margin of the maid illustration the young master had drawn.
Why in the world was she thinking of that line now?
‘...It’s hot.’
Estelle felt her body temperature gradually rising and was inwardly flustered.
The air in the drawing room was clearly cool. The windows were closed, and no fire had been lit.
— Scratch. Scratch. Scratch.
The sound of the pen continued, fast and precise.
“Your legs are too close together.”
Ian said.
Estelle’s face flushed hot.
If she spread her legs like this, not only the garter belt but even her underwear would surely be visible.
She had to resist somehow...
“Don’t press them together. Spread them a little more.”
“Any more than this is...”
“I didn’t ask to hear an explanation in words.”
Ian narrowed his eyes and tilted his head slightly to the right.
“It’s an issue of angle. Estelle, move your left heel back just a little.”
Estelle clenched her teeth.
But her foot.
Was moving exactly as she had been told.
It became cool below.
— Scratch. Scratch.
The pen began to move again.
Ian’s concentration deepened.
Listening to that scratching sound, Estelle felt herself gradually growing strange.
Of course, it was shame.
But it was not simply embarrassment; something else was mixed within it, a confusing sensation even Estelle herself could not accurately name.
Ian’s gaze descended to her thigh again.
That gaze.
As always, it was cold without warmth, precise without emotion, solely for the sake of the drawing.
And every time that gaze touched her.
She felt the skin it touched grow hot.
‘……What am I doing?’
Strength almost left the fingertips holding up her skirt without her realizing it.
“Don’t let go.”
Ian said without even lifting his gaze.
Estelle clenched her teeth a little harder.
And held on tightly again.
— Scratch.
— Scratch. Scratch.
Only the sound of the pen gliding over paper quietly echoed through the air of the drawing room.
How much time had passed?
Estelle felt something slowly trickle down her thigh.
‘……?’
Sweat?
Was she sweating?
The sensation of it flowing down was perfectly clear.
Little by little, slowly, along the top of her stocking.
One sticky droplet.
— Drip.
It fell to the floor.
The instant Ian’s pen stopped.
Estelle’s hand suddenly moved.
— Swish.
The hem of her skirt came down.
And Estelle, facing forward, looking precisely forward and nowhere else, said,
“I will be going.”
“Hm?”
“I have business to attend to.”
“Estelle, the pose isn’t done yet—”
“I have business to attend to.”
Estelle neatly smoothed the front of her skirt and bowed at the waist at a perfect ninety degrees.
Then she walked.
Her footsteps were perfectly silent.
Her shoulders were perfectly level.
Her posture did not waver by even a single millimeter.
However, the nape of her neck alone.
Was clearly, very clearly,
flushed bright red.
◆
In front of the closed drawing room door, I looked down at the pen for a moment.
‘…….’
Mm.
It wasn’t as though I had no idea why.
I gave a light cough, then looked back down at the blank paper on my lap.
‘Still, I gathered plenty of material.’
The subtle curve where the garter belt pressed into the skin. The texture of the shadow forming beneath the lace. The sheen of the stocking and the angle of tension created at the boundary where it met the skin.
Honestly, the moment I saw it, explanations and everything else vanished, leaving only the thought that I had to draw it immediately.
‘...Come to think of it, I don’t think I properly explained anything.’
That realization lasted only briefly.
The moment I saw the images drawn before my eyes, I could not suppress my creative urge.
Sketches drawn after seeing the body of a real maid!
I rose from my seat and walked over to the desk.
Beyond the window, darkness was only just beginning to settle over the sky.
In Calliora’s spring, evening comes quickly, but the night is long.
In other words, it is perfect for working all night.
The sensation of strength entering the tip of the pen felt familiar.
‘Then shall I begin my all-nighter?’
◆
A few days later.
There was the sound of footsteps striding down the second-floor corridor of the Ash viscount household.
The strides were wide, fast, and above all, brimming with irritation.
The second daughter of the Ash viscount household, Chloe Ash.
With a leather document bag tucked under her arm, she walked toward Ian’s room, her face today once again bearing the expression of the sharpest person in the world.
“Just how many hours is he sleeping!”
At the end of the corridor, Estelle stood before Ian’s door.
Perfect posture. Perfect expression. Perfectly quiet eyes.
The appearance of a head maid who, as always, was unshaken under any circumstances.
However, Chloe was not the type to look at Estelle’s face for long. If she had been, she might have noticed something strange.
Chloe came to an abrupt stop in front of Estelle.
“Estelle. Is Ian Ash inside the room?”
“Yes.”
Estelle answered.
“He has gone to bed.”
“What? Do you know what time it is? He’s sleeping in broad daylight?”
Chloe raised her voice, but as always, Estelle answered without moving even a brow.
“Perhaps he is tired because he has been working for several days.”
Chloe paused.
It was not common for Estelle to take Ian’s side. No, it was not merely rare; it was close to unprecedented.
“Estelle, what’s gotten into you, taking that bastard’s side?”
“That is not the case.”
Estelle continued. Her expression still had not changed in the slightest.
“It has been fourteen hours since he went to bed, so that should be enough by now.”
In that instant.
Chloe’s eyes narrowed.
Fourteen hours.
He was sleeping for fourteen hours?
When some people could not even sleep three hours a day trying to save the family?
Of course, the money Ian had brought last time had helped—mm, had been a very great help in averting the immediate crisis, but still.
Not long afterward, she had discovered that he had piled up a heap of credit purchases buying ink again...!
She had no idea what he was scheming, but Chloe could not leave him alone when the specter of their father flickered before her eyes.
The men of this family could not be trusted!
“...This useless freeloader.”
Chloe’s hand gripped the doorknob.
— Bang!
Ian’s door flew open violently.
The thick, sealed-in air rushed out.
The heavy scent peculiar to ink filled the room, pens were rolling about haphazardly on the desk, and several crumpled sheets of blank paper were scattered across the floor.
And in the middle of it all.
A man sleeping like the dead on the bed.
With black hair wildly spread over the pillow, sleeping as though he bore the fatigue of the entire world...
Thanks to the particularly dark atmosphere contrasting against his pale white skin, and thanks to those handsome features of his that only looked good when his mouth was shut, he was charming enough to shake women’s hearts.
Of course, none of that entered Chloe’s eyes.
“Hey!!”
Chloe mercilessly shook Ian by the shoulder.
“Uuugh…….”
A groan slipped from Ian’s mouth. His eyes did not budge.
“Wake up. Right now. Get ready to go to the Academy.”
“Mm……. I’m sleeping……. I can’t get involved…….”
“What?”
Chloe brought her ear closer.
Ian’s lips mumbled again, half-asleep.
“Honey……. Life is honey……. Something like the Academy…… I just don’t have to go……. If I just stay here and draw…….”
Chloe’s eyes instantly turned cold and hard.
“You don’t have to go to the Academy?”
— Yank.
Ian sat up. No, to be precise, Chloe had grabbed Ian by the ear and forced him upright.
“Aaaaaah! My ear, my ear!”
“Are you awake? Good.”
Chloe released the hand gripping his ear and looked down at her older brother with cold eyes.
Bluish dark circles beneath his eyes. Hollowed cheeks. Dark ink stains remaining on the tips of his fingers.
Chloe confirmed all of it with her own eyes, but decided to pretend not to know for now. She did not have the leisure to understand everything just because she could see it.
“Ian Ash. Get ready to enroll right now.”
Chloe’s voice grew very low.
Even Ian knew that Chloe’s voice dropping an octave was a weapon. Because it was a sign that she meant it.
“We need to reduce even one more mouth to feed at home. And the sponsorship money we scraped together from here and there when you enrolled—if you drop out, we have to pay it all back. Our family absolutely cannot repay that.”
“I can earn the money—”
“The two hundred million krone we received in sponsorship? If you don’t return to school this semester, you’ll be expelled, and we’ll have to pay it back within two weeks.”
“That’s...”
Chloe cut him off shortly.
“So reenroll. The tuition and dormitory fees were all paid in advance anyway, so it won’t cost anything.”
As she said that, Chloe took a sheet of paper out of her document bag and tossed it at Ian’s forehead with a smack.
Ian caught the paper.
Neatly printed letters entered his eyes.
— Imperial Academy Pre-Semester Enrollment Banquet.
— Attendance mandatory. All new and returning students.
Ian raised one eyebrow.
“Why are you giving this to me?”
“If you skip it, you’re dead. For real.”
Chloe’s voice was firmer than ever before.