# 12
12. The Count's Strange Guest (2)
"Isabella is still as beautiful as ever. You haven't changed."
"You've become more manly since I last saw you, Lord Ethan."
"Ah, no need to flatter me. I've aged considerably."
Ethan stroked his chin and sat down on the sofa. Isabella signaled me with her eyes. Holding a tray, I quickly placed the tea in front of him.
"Thank you."
He smiled warmly at such a trivial thing. It felt strange that a man who looked noble in his obviously expensive attire would treat me kindly when I was merely a maid.
"Vincent's condition has worsened considerably since I last saw him. It wasn't this bad the last time. How long has he been cooped up in his room?"
"About half a year."
"Half a year... I see."
Ethan smiled bitterly. Worry was seeped into that smile. It was certain. Ethan knew of Vincent's condition.
That he was blind.
The fact that he knew they were hiding it even from the servants here meant their relationship was of a different depth.
"Vincent and I are friends. Very close friends."
Perhaps I had been staring at him intently without realizing, as Ethan kindly added an explanation. I immediately lowered my gaze and bowed my head.
"I apologize."
"Haha. No need to apologize. I heard you recently joined?"
"Yes."
"Hmm, you feel different from the maid I saw before..."
He looked at me as if examining me. I tensed up nervously and my body went stiff.
Fortunately, the topic changed quickly.
"Is Vincent always in his room?"
"Yes."
"His current state... the situation just now tells me. I heard the news. There were a few more bad incidents after I left. I stepped away briefly for business matters, but I was too complacent."
"You did your best, Lord Ethan."
Ethan stroked his teacup and smiled bitterly.
"Isabella. I chose the family over my friend. That's the truth. The timing wasn't right either, but in the end, that's just an excuse. I left, arbitrarily judging that Vincent would do well on his own. But I never wanted Vincent to end up like this..."
"Lord Ethan."
"It's my first time seeing Vincent like this. Even when Lord Belunita and the Countess passed away in an accident, he wasn't this bad."
Ethan's face darkened heavily. What filled it was worry and sorrow for his friend. It looked strange in my eyes. The way he felt another's sadness as if it were his own. Is this what friendships are normally like?
What the. Acting like he's all alone in the world, putting on all sorts of misery when he had such a good friend. Though it's somewhat surprising that that damned master of mine has such a friend.
"Isabella, I must see Vincent's face this time. If I go back like this, I'll lose sleep every night."
"I'll prepare a room for you to stay."
Isabella signaled me. I nodded and left the reception room.
"Does it suit your taste?"
"Barely."
Vincent scooped some porridge and put it in his mouth. The way he chewed slowly and silently exuded the refinement unique to nobility.
Recently, Vincent had started eating on his own. It was truly an amazing change. The day after that dream-like night, when I handed him a spoon as a matter of courtesy as always, he slowly began to eat the porridge himself. I was astounded to see that.
'Wh-why the change. Eating so quietly.'
'You think you wouldn't get tired and endure having it shoved down to the point of crushing your throat? If I keep eating like this, I feel like I'll choke and die someday.'
'You're quite good at joking.'
'It's not a joke.'
It's not to that extent, well. Though I grumbled inwardly, I couldn't help but be moved by the sight of him eating porridge on his own. It felt similar to when I tamed the stray cat that used to come in front of Uncle Mark's bakery.
'Are you perhaps sick somewhere?'
'Close your mouth before I throw it away.'
His temper is still the same, though.
Still, it's definitely an inspiring change. But the amount he ate was disappointing. Looking at the porridge bowl that wasn't even half empty, I cautiously suggested.
"How about eating a little more?"
"I'm full."
"Just a little more."
"I said I'm full."
Vincent scowled. With a regretful heart, I smacked my lips and took the bowl.
"You need to take your medicine. Here."
When I guided his hand and placed the medicine bowl in it, he swallowed this quietly too. Good, good. I watched him with satisfaction. When he emptied the bowl, I took out something round I had prepared in advance from my pocket. After peeling off the shell wrapped around the core, I put it in his mouth.
"What is this?"
"It's candy. Since you always say it's bitter, I brought it thinking it would be good to cleanse your palate after taking your medicine."
"Am I a child?"
To me, only his body has grown, but inside he's still a child. Still, it must be bitter since he doesn't spit it out.
"What happened to that guy?"
"Who are you referring to?"
"The person who came this morning."
"Ah, Lord Ethan Christopher said he would stay here for a few days. He insisted on seeing your face, Master."
At that, Vincent squeezed his eyes shut. It was the face of someone who had witnessed hell. Moreover, he rarely let out a sigh and even rubbed his face with both hands. Seeing him like that, I thought of the guest from earlier. He seemed to genuinely worry about him, so I couldn't understand why he disliked him so much.
"Would you like to see him?"
"Forget it. Absolutely don't let him in the room."
Vincent waved his hand and lay down on the bed. Watching him, I brought up the words I had been meaning to say for a long time.
"Master, you need to wash."
"...."
But he turned his body without answering. Curled up toward the wall, he seemed to have no intention of washing at all. I stared blankly at his back, then approached quietly and sniffed. Then I frowned.
I grabbed his arm and draped it over my shoulder, then supported him to get down from the bed. Vincent, who had been dragged down in a daze, soon twisted his body. Just a few days ago, he would have yelled and gotten angry first, but now he asked in a voice of resignation.
"What are you doing?"
"You smell."
I gripped his arm tightly. I couldn't let go this time. It was the smell I had noticed since I first entered this room. At first it was unfamiliar, and then I was so busy accommodating him that I ignored it, and before I knew it, I had become accustomed to it. At least I brought a wet towel and wiped his exposed areas like his face, neck, and hands, but it was woefully inadequate. Today, the stench emanating from him was so bad it gave me a headache.
"When on earth did you last wash? The stench is piercing my nose. If you can't see, you should have accepted the servants' help to wash."
"Stop talking nonsense and let go."
"After you wash."
As soon as I entered the room, I had gone to the bathroom and filled the tub with water. Today, I was determined to make him wash. Vincent flapped the arm draped over my shoulder, but subduing his weak body wasn't difficult. Gripping the arm over my shoulder tightly, and with my other hand around his back gripping his waist, I led him to the bathroom. Led was an overstatement—he was practically being dragged. Even until the moment we entered the bathroom and headed toward the tub, he resisted stubbornly.
When we reached the front of the tub, I guided his hand to touch it. He felt around for the tub and grabbed it tightly. I could see the intention to splash this on my face. Startled, I grabbed his wrist, but he resisted, refusing to let go.
I tried to pull him away from the tub, and a tug-of-war ensued as he tried to hold on. The struggle that continued for a while ended when I lost my balance. Since I still had one of his arms over my shoulder, he also tumbled forward.
With a splash! I sat down on the bathroom floor. Startled, I turned around and found Vincent plunged into the tub. Soaking wet, he looked shocked, then soon trembled. With anger.
"...Are you okay?"
"Y-you..."
Seeing him unable to even speak, I was also at a loss for words. When I gently grabbed his arm, he fiercely swatted it away. Then he tried to support himself on the tub and stand up. But perhaps because it was slippery from the water, he couldn't get up and kept falling back into the tub. Each time, the water sloshed and soaked him thoroughly. It seemed like he no longer needed a bath.
"...."
Suddenly, his movements stopped. I unknowingly tensed up while watching him. Then, the sound of a door opening was heard. Footsteps followed, and Isabella entered the bathroom. She stopped when she saw me and Vincent in the tub.
A briefly surprised face. But she was calm as expected.
"It might be better to take off your clothes next time."
"...."
"I have something to tell you. I will attend to the rest."
She looked at me as she said that. Thinking this was my chance, I bowed and quickly turned around. Taking the gathered laundry, I hurriedly left the room. I survived!
"I heard Lord Ethan has arrived?"
Renika, who came to collect the laundry, asked. Meeting once a day, we had become close enough to have simple conversations. I looked at the things she had brought and answered.
"Do you know him?"
"He's the Master's friend. And the second young master of the Christopher family."
"He must be a famous person."
"He's famous. The family is one thing, but it's because he's so handsome."
Renika placed her hand in front of her face and moved it up and down. Handsome? Well, he did look flashy. And seeing that he was polite even to servants like me.
"He did seem kind."
"Yes, he's gentle. People like us are often ignored by our superiors, right? But Lord Ethan doesn't ignore us and treats us warmly. So he's known as a very good person among the female servants."
"I see."
"I've only seen him from afar so far. How wonderful would it be if I could even speak to him once?"
Renika cupped her cheeks with both hands and giggled. As if imagining herself speaking to Ethan, her face was colored with rapture.
"Lord Ethan Christopher is in the guest room of the annex. If you want to see him, you could come to the annex later. You might even exchange greetings by chance."
"No, we can't. We can't enter the annex."
Renika waved her hands, telling me not to say such scary things. I widened my eyes.