# 8
8. The Count's Infuriating Master (8)
"Ugh, that hurts."
As I sat up, Vincent was calmly changing his clothes. Seeing his nonchalant face despite having heard me fall, I realized he had moved out of the way on purpose. I suppressed my surging anger with a sigh.
I had brought new bedsheets, but putting them on was another struggle. He absolutely refused to lift his hips, so I ended up just draping them roughly over the bed.
Even this much was exhausting. When Vincent tried to pull the dirty sheet back over himself after changing, I quickly snatched it away and handed him the new one. Fortunately, he quietly pulled the fresh one over himself.
Alright, done. I left the laundry by the door and came back to clear the empty dishes. I wiped up the dessert that had fallen earlier and the thin porridge stains left like a trail across the floor. After picking up the things that had been rolling on the floor, I finally started sweeping the floor.
In the silence, only the soft swishing of the broom sounded. Vincent was quiet. He probably realized I wouldn't let him be anymore. Compared to his initial screaming for me to get out, it was a big change.
"Why are you here?"
"Pardon?"
He suddenly spoke to me. I was startled. This man who usually only spat sharp words telling me to get out, to leave, not to touch anything—him attempting a conversation? Was he sick somewhere? But he only looked pale; he didn't appear to be in pain.
"I asked why you're here."
"......Because I need to earn money."
"Then if I give you money, will you leave?"
"Why? Are you going to pay me to leave?"
"If I could."
Is he trying to show off his wealth? I appreciate the offer, but if it were a problem that could be solved with just money, I wouldn't be here going through all this.
"Even if you chase me out, another maid will come and stay by your side."
"I'll throw them out too."
"Then they'll come back again."
"So you're saying you won't leave."
"Yes."
I moved the broom again. He turned to look at me.
"Do you like this mansion?"
"Well. I haven't thought about it."
"Then think about it. It's not a proper place for vain dreams."
Vain dreams... I thought about it for a moment but soon shrugged. I had no intention of dreaming either.
"Where did you come from?"
"I came from Filton."
"Filton... that's quite far."
"It's not that far. Just over one mountain."
For my father's errands, I sometimes had to travel even farther than that.
Walking for days on end, my calves would swell up and I could barely walk for a while afterward. But even if I wanted to rest because it hurt, my father and Alicia would never leave me alone. I was the only one who could do the household chores.
So actually, the time I spent away from home was more peaceful.
"It was fascinating, like going on an adventure. Like the protagonist in those fairy tale books setting off on a mysterious and beautiful adventure."
"Sounds like a dream."
"That's right. In reality, you can't have such beautiful adventures. But it was still nice. When I was young, there was the oldest bookstore in town, and I worked there briefly? The owner was an elderly gentleman, and thanks to his kindness, I read a lot of fairy tales."
"Making a child into a delusional daydreamer in their youth."
"Maybe so."
But I still like books. As I grew older, I no longer enjoyed fairy tales, but I liked books with stories. Because they were stories of worlds I couldn't dream of, worlds I didn't know. Whether they were false or true, it didn't matter.
Imagining the world inside books was my only joy in childhood.
"There's a line I remember. 'When the gods created you and bestowed you upon this world, your very existence became steeped in blessing—love without reservation. For all of it shall forge the path before you.'"
"The Sorrow of Love."
"You've read it?"
When I asked in surprise, he answered dismissively.
"It's a famous book even children read."
"I didn't know that."
"Your taste is poor."
"Is it?"
"It's not a good story."
True. The ending is tragic. The protagonist doesn't die. It was an ending where they simply abandon everything and choose to live alone. Even letting go of the person they loved.
'Ah, so this is the end.'
After the protagonist said those words and walked alone across the vast sea, the story ended. Not ending in death, but casting off everything that had tormented them and departing—it felt strangely appealing instead.
If the end of my life comes, I want to say those words too.
Ah. So this is the end.
"I actually liked that part."
"......"
After saying that much, I suddenly felt awkward. I wasn't usually talkative, but I was so glad he had spoken to me that I ended up rambling. Belatedly, I glanced at him and continued.
"M-Master, is there a book you enjoyed reading?"
"I don't read that trash."
That trash...? Isn't reading one of the refinements of nobility?
Alicia also complained about being sick of it whenever the lord's son droned on about the contents of books he read, blathering about refinement and whatnot. When I worked at the bookstore, nobles frequented it too. Newly published books sold faster than others.
I looked back at him and saw Vincent lying on his back staring at the ceiling. His eyes were closed, so I thought he might be trying to sleep and stopped talking, focusing on cleaning.
"I haven't read any since I lost my sight."
Ah, I looked at him again with belated realization. His closed profile looked somewhat listless.
"There are books that blind people can read."
"You can't read every book that way."
"Then hire someone to read to you."
"Meaning I should go around broadcasting my condition everywhere."
He's being sarcastic again. He was such a twisted person. Even if he hired someone to read to him, he'd surely find some excuse to throw them out. Then he could ask acquaintances who knew his situation for help... Ah!
"Shall I read to you?!"
I couldn't hide my excitement in that moment.
There was no way this large mansion didn't have a study. Why hadn't I thought of that! Then I felt a suspicious gaze pierce me and realized my mistake. I calmed my racing heart and feigned composure.
"Of course, only if you wish it, Master."
"With your pig-like voice?"
"......I've never been told my voice is bad."
"Then the rest of you must be awful."
"......"
He caught the tail of my words immediately. I was tempted to whack him with the broom in my hand.
But I decided to take a step back. Now was not the time to clash but to accommodate.
"You must be tired of just sleeping all the time. You don't go for walks, you don't even get out of bed. That's why you become so lethargic. People need to live, you know."
"Don't beat around the bush. What are you trying to say?"
"How about trying to read a book?"
"I can't read."
"That's why I'll read to you."
"I refuse."
It was an answer without a moment's hesitation. I let out a deep sigh.
"I thought if you took up a hobby, it might at least improve your temper a bit......"
"Hey."
"You don't even consider the hardworking servants...... You just scream and yell all the time, throwing things around dangerously. Thanks to that, you've put a scratch on a pretty woman's face...... And I still put up with it...... What could possibly make you so great......"
"Hey."
"This is so unfair, so unfair."
I seized the moment and poured out every complaint I had. His hand fumbled across the side table. Not that it mattered—having already thrown everything, there was nothing left to throw.
Soon I saw him clench his fist tightly and I smiled joyfully.
"Now then, Master. Please listen well."
Hmm, hmm, I cleared my throat. There was no answer in return. Moreover, all I could see was his back as he turned away. But with a joyful heart, I opened a book.
"It was a day when the warmth of sunlight seeped into the body."
"Boring."
"The girl—yes?"
"I said boring. Something else."
I thought he was sleeping, but his ears must have been open. But wait, I had only read a single line and he says it's boring?
"I've only read one line."
"I don't like that one line."
"If you listen a bit more......"
"Something else."
"Then I'll read something else."
I calmly set the book down and picked up another. Books had their own tastes, and since I didn't know his preferences, I had brought several volumes just in case.
I cleared my throat again.
"The girl's day begins with a walk in the garden."
"Boring."
"......"
"Something else."
I haven't even read a single line, you son of a bitch.
My insides boiled for the first time in a while. Calm down. The person before me is the master who pays me. I took a silent deep breath and suppressed my anger.
"Why no answer. Something else."
"Yes. Fine. Something else."
I set down the book I was holding and picked up yet another.
"The boy—"
"Boring. Something else."
"Are you really going to keep doing this?"
I finally set the book on my lap and burst out in frustration. But Vincent was shameless.
"Is it wrong to say something boring is boring?"
"You're saying it's boring without even listening properly."
"I know even without listening properly that it's boring."
"On what standard are you saying that?"
"Are you talking back to me? A mere maid?"
"......"
When he put it like that, I was speechless. How cowardly!
"There are no more books to read. I need to fetch more."
"Then go get them."
"......If there's a book you like, please tell me. I'll bring that one."
"I don't re-read books I've already read."
"Then at least tell me the content you like. The genre, for instance."
"Nothing like that."
I let out a deep sigh. He was clearly trying to get revenge for what happened earlier. For someone who was offered kindness in good faith, this was how he responded. Truly childish.
"What are you doing? Not going to get them."
I finally jumped up from my seat.
Carrying three books I hadn't even properly opened, I thumped out of the room. The study was right on the floor below. I was so angry I ended up coming down the central staircase.
Calm down. Times like this called for composure more than ever. The master throwing a fit wasn't a one-time thing, so I needed to be even more rational.
Entering the study, I looked over the tightly packed bookshelves and pondered what kind of story he might like. Honestly, no matter what book I brought, he'd clearly throw a tantrum and say it was boring.
Even so, I carefully examined the bookshelves. Then something caught my eye.
"This is it!"
I pulled out every single book on that shelf.