# 25
25. Tea Time with the Viscount (7)
"What the hell are you babbling about."
A voice struggling to contain anger flowed out chillingly. Even with a hundred mouths I would have no excuse, so I remained silent. He let out a short, hollow laugh.
"It's all over now."
"V-Violet might understand."
"Understand? Understand what? Could you understand if your fiancé became a blind cripple? How do you understand that? When you marry later, you'll have to serve your husband for the rest of your life."
"……."
Because the words were so undeniably true, I closed my mouth again. Though that wasn't my intention, I was the one who lit the fire that led to this situation.
A heavy silence hung in the room. Vincent rubbed his face, and Ethan seemed lost in thought for a moment. Caught between them, I could only watch their reactions.
"I don't want to see your face. Get out."
"Vincent, calm down."
"You get out too."
Ethan sighed.
"Why are you being so difficult. We need to explore our options. What changes by kicking us out right now?"
"……."
"Don't overthink it. Just meet her and it'll be fine."
Vincent wore a face that said this was nonsense. I silently agreed. With all eyes on him, Ethan explained calmly.
"Why? It's not difficult. Just pretend like before."
"Back then, I didn't see nothing like now."
"But you could see blurry shapes. You said they looked like blobs of light. Still, you conversed just fine. You figured out what they wanted, what their intentions were. So well that the other person didn't even know you couldn't see them. You're usually good at that. Pretending everything's fine on the outside."
"So."
"Let's pretend like before."
Ethan clapped his hands together. His grinning face was as light as usual.
"You're joking, right?"
"Honestly, that's the only option we have."
Ethan shrugged. Vincent narrowed his eyes, but this time he didn't rebut and only let out a sigh. Not knowing what Ethan meant by 'before,' I could only look back and forth between the two of them.
"You did that on purpose earlier, didn't you?"
"Yes."
The answer came immediately to my whispered question. Ethan, who said he deliberately exposed my wrongdoing, was truly shameless. Did he do that to make things flow this way? I wanted to figure out his true intentions, but since he was the most unreadable person I'd ever met, I gave up. Ethan just kept grinning.
"Sharing the hatred too. I guess we make a good partnership, Miss Maid."
No. He's just someone who finds pleasure in tormenting others. No, why is everyone doing this to me? What did I do so wrong? It's too hard to work as a maid, seriously.
"I should just quit right now."
"Oh, don't say that. We've just gotten close, and I'd be sad."
"Why are you alone in that. I am not."
I shook my head firmly and took a step to the side. Ethan glanced at me, then stepped closer by the same distance I had moved away. When I took another step to the side, he followed with another step. Then I moved another step to the side, and he followed again. A pointless back-and-forth ensued.
Eventually, I stopped walking first.
"Still, thank you. For helping me."
Honestly, if he hadn't stepped in earlier, I would have just been watching cautiously like a criminal. In that sense, I was grateful. At my words, Ethan shrugged.
"Don't mention it."
His light attitude seemed like consideration to ease my burden instead. Perhaps he's... deeper than I thought?
"But, Miss Maid. Can I ask you one thing too?"
"Yes, please go ahead."
"Is your bangs intentional?"
He asked, pointing at the hair covering more than half my face. I instinctively grabbed my bangs. It was a reflex to hide my face.
"It's a pretty face, what a shame."
"You're good at joking."
"I'm serious."
"Really? Truly? Even if I brand your lips with a hot iron if you're lying?"
He rolled his eyes from side to side for a moment, then lightly covered his mouth with his hand.
"I meant inner beauty."
"You just said face."
"The inner beauty within the face."
"Thanks for the empty compliment."
Taking back my earlier thought. He's someone who can't be serious at all.
I pressed my bangs more firmly against my face and bowed my head. Then I approached Vincent, who had finished preparing. Vincent looked quite tense. Just like that time when he heard the suggestion to take even a single step out of his room.
'Why are you acting like a coward, unlike yourself. Are you lacking confidence? The great Bellunita Viscount has been cooped up in his room, and now his guts are as small as bird droppings.'
'Shut up.'
'So let's do it. Meet Violet, exchange a few words, reassure her, and send her back. I'll handle the direction, and Miss Maid will help you prepare. You just need to act. Let's create a perfect play. How about it?'
Poking at the other person's pride while subtly leading things in the direction he wants. In that sense, Ethan had mastered the art of coaxing Vincent. And Vincent, knowing that, ultimately didn't rebut. His silence held agreement.
That result was the current situation.
Right now, this place was a reception room close to his room, and it could be called the stage for the play. Direction by Ethan, preparation by me, acting by Vincent.
The content of the play was as follows. Vincent planned to call Violet to this reception room. There, Vincent would sit on the sofa first and wait, and when Violet came in and sat across from him, Vincent would bring out the conversation he had prepared in advance. It was important to keep the conversation short. If it's long, loose ends get caught. So after a brief conversation with Violet, he needed to make an excuse about being tired and leave the reception room first. Once he came out, I would quickly escort him back to his room, and that would be the end. Of course, Ethan also planned to help him.
"Now, the important thing is handling your gaze. You need to plant the thought that 'you're looking at her.'"
"I know."
"Don't worry, Master. As long as you match your gaze well, she won't even imagine you can't see. Even I sometimes forget when you're throwing things and throwing tantrums."
"……."
"God, how much of a temper must you have for even Miss Maid to forget you can't see. And why throw things? That's dangerous. You really go too far. Don't call yourself a gentleman anywhere."
Ethan clicked his tongue. I gave him a look telling him not to do that. Vincent felt around his surroundings. It seemed like he was about to show what it meant to not be a gentleman, so I gently took his hand.
"First, I'll tell you where the teacup is. With your back straight, lean your upper body slightly forward, and the edge of the table should touch your palm. Like this."
I placed his palm on the edge of the table.
"And if you stretch your fingers in that position, the teacup should be right there."
When he stretched his fingers as I said, the teacup touched his fingertips. He reached out a bit more and hooked his fingers on the handle. After that, the motion of lifting the teacup and bringing it to his lips followed smoothly.
"When feeling the table, you can fumble a little. Just not too noticeably."
"If you fumble with just the feeling of your fingertips, it won't be that noticeable."
"But don't just tap with your fingertips either. That's even more noticeable."
"Just move very slightly and it should be fine."
"Which rhythm am I supposed to follow."
He frowned and set down the cup. The clinking sound of the cup and saucer hitting each other was particularly grating to the ears. Given the situation, everything felt heightened.
I checked the positions of the teacup, vase, and snacks. The vase in the middle, and considering the distance when he leans forward, the teacup should be about here. The snacks at a distance not too far from the teacup, but not too close either.
"Now let's try matching your gaze. Miss Maid, over here."
Ethan gestured to me. I approached him, puzzled. He sat me on the sofa across from Vincent. It was a position where I could look directly at Vincent.
"Vincent, look this way."
"Where are you talking about."
"Straight ahead. I placed a sofa directly in front of you, Master. Violet will sit there."
He turned his head following my voice. The direction was roughly correct, but his eyes were wandering here and there. He seemed to not know where to place his gaze. I jumped up, grabbed his face, and tried to match his eyes.
"Like this."
When I suddenly grabbed his face, he flinched in surprise. Then he furrowed his brow deeply at my voice. Ignoring that, I adjusted the direction of his face.
"Just look straight ahead like this."
I slightly released my hands. His eyes were still looking elsewhere.
"Please look this way."
As if answering my words, the blinking emerald eyes gradually moved. The hesitantly forward-facing eyes met mine.
He was looking at me.
My heart suddenly dropped.
Looking into his eyes this close up, it felt like he was truly looking at me. The slightly cloudy emerald eyes seemed to hold a glint, the illusion that he was seeing my face reflected in them. Caught in that illusion, I unconsciously stepped back.