22 — Potentially Attending a Party

Mr. Fisalis’ peculiar whim persisted, and after about a month had passed, he was coming to the manor almost every day.

I wondered if everything was okay at the cottage. It was none of my business what went on between him and his girlfriend, but I was worried about the maids there. I hoped they weren’t getting too stressed out.

Rohtas was usually the only one who went out to greet Mr. Fisalis when he came home. When Rohtas headed to the entrance for his updates when Mr. Fisalis returned, Dahlia and Mimosa would call for me.

It’s more proper for the Master to be greeted by the entire staff, I suppose, but our situation was... special, I guess? Following his and Rohtas’ ‘networking session,’ Mr. Fisalis would leave to go to the cottage, so he’d told everyone ages ago that they didn’t all have to come out to greet him.

That’s right, Mr. Fisalis did that. The Mr. Cercis Tinensis Fisalis.

I guess he just dispensed with the formalities for once.

The other servants were busy getting dinner ready and doing all kinds of other chores, but recently, now that he’d been coming to the main house, they would wait around the entrance to catch a glimpse of him. Because depending on what he said, there might be a shift change!

Upon hearing the words, “I’ll be eating here,” the silent call of “starting Cercis Shift!” could be heard throughout the manor.

And of course, the only one who was unaware of this was the man himself.

Ignorance is bliss, I guess.

One morning, at breakfast in the servants’ dining hall, out of nowhere I asked, “I wonder, why did Mr. Fisalis suddenly start coming here?” over my delicious salad.

Why, indeed.

With his sudden decision to eat dinner at the main house, I was down to eating only breakfast and lunch with the servants. I was rather heartbroken over this.

We had our High Speed Supper in the main dining room. For some reason, it was bizarre to see two people eating in dead silence, so lately the conversation among the servants had turned to why he had come back to the main house at all.

Rather, his return was the only thing they had to talk about.

“Wasn’t he fighting with his companion?” Mimosa said offhandedly as she tore into her bread.

“She’s been in an awful mood lately, for sure,” Mr. Fisalis’ personal maid.

“She doesn’t vent her anger out on us, but she does take it out on objects, and just seems really tense overall.”

“Oh, that’s not a good sign. I’m glad I haven’t been attending to the Master lately.”

“It’s made working here more fun, so I can’t complain.”

“Same,” they all agreed.

There were many things to consider, it seemed.

Mr. Fisalis’ personal maid was complaining more and more lately. But the issue was mostly limited to the cottage. To be a personal maid on duty meant being dealt a short straw in some sense, but conversely, you could take it easy on your days off!

“What goes on at the cottage, stays at the cottage; but no matter where we’re stationed, let’s go at our own pace,” I suggested.

There’s no reason to be affected by what’s going on over there! In fact, letting myself be affected by it actually goes against the contract!

“Yes, Madam,” everyone agreed. Lately, it felt like we had formed a strange little union.

That night, the moment when Mr. Fisalis took his seat at the dining table, Rohtas and the serving maids brought out the soup, as usual.

That day was another Super Sonic Supper.

Go, Team Kitchen!

Also, as was the norm, Mr. Fisalis wore an expression suggesting that he was suspicious about or unhappy with the fast service.

“Rohtas, serve the meals more slowly from now on. Let Cartham know, too,” Mr. Fisalis broke his silence to ask Rohtas, who had just stepped back after serving him his soup.

“Is it really that fast?” Rohtas quipped back, without the slightest change in his expression.

“Yes, it is. We haven’t the time to savor anything or have a conversation.”

“Oh, I see,” replied Rohtas, sullenly feigning ignorance.

A-ha. We’ve been found out, at last.

And here Cartham and his team put in so much hard work and were so mindful in their speedy approach to dinner.

Dang it.

...Ah, I’ve gotten all worked up.

But, Mr. Fisalis is the head of the house for now, right? So his orders hold more weight than my directions. Rohtas and the others are compelled to obey him.

But, we also don’t have to eat slowly, right? ...jeez, I’m all off-kilter again.

“Yes, do it that way from now on.”

“As you wish, Master.”

I was listening to Mr. Fisalis and Rohtas’ conversation like it wasn’t my problem, but then I suddenly came back to myself.

Um... what the heck should we talk about today, then? It’s too late to think of something now... I don’t know the details of his work or any of his hobbies, and I’m not exactly up on the latest gossip, considering I never leave the manor.

This isn’t good.

In the end though, I had no need to worry: even when the food was brought out slower, it only left just the slightest bit of time between dishes, not much of a change at all. The conversation began only after dessert was over, as it always had.

Phew.

“So how was your day?” Mr. Fisalis began our usual by-the-book conversation.

“Well, since it was raining, I had a dance lesson with Rohtas.”

Indeed.

We resumed the rainy day schedule, as we always did.

Of course, my lesson was followed by a full treatment by my own personal Spa Squad! Which I humbly omitted from my end of the conversation.

“Oh, I see. Is Rohtas a good instructor?” Mr. Fisalis asked with a gentle smile.

“Yes.” You might even say he’s one hell of a coach.

I was grateful for my dancing lessons (which were, in all honesty, close to a bootcamp) for correcting my day-to-day posture and movements, but my whole body was stiff today.

“Oh, so that’s why the flowers in the entrance didn’t get switched out today,” he commented.

Mr. Fisalis was looking right at me with those gorgeous dark brown eyes of his. I was confused. Huh? The flowers in the entrance? He said it so casually I didn’t even register it, and I cocked my head, looking back at him blankly.

“They’re the same as yesterday,” he said, lowering his eyes and bringing his tea cup to his lips.

Oh, so what he wanted to say was that yesterday’s flowers in the entrance hadn’t been changed out! After a few moments, I finally figured it out. It had been raining that day, so I had my dance lesson and didn’t go out to the greenhouse; then since I got my massage afterwards, I never swapped out the flowers. More importantly, I was amazed that Mr. Fisalis noticed something as simple as not changing the flowers in the entryway! He wouldn’t have seen something as minor as that if he hadn’t thought to check.

But you know, I’m a little pleased that he paid any attention to those flowers!

“Oh, er, yes, they are. I was so busy today that I didn’t get a chance to go see Bellis.”

“I see,” he hmph’d and drained his cup.

And that put an end to our conversation.

Hmm? Does Mr. Fisalis dislike Bellis? When the topic switched to Bellis, I sensed his mood turn sour. Perhaps there’s some feelings of rivalry between them, as two handsome men? Bellis isn’t the kind of guy to care, though, so that would mean it’s a one-sided thing on Mr. Fisalis’ part.

I finished my tea in silence and placed the cup back on the saucer.

“I hope you have a good night, then,” he said coldly before leaving for the cottage.

When I showed up in the servants’ dining hall for breakfast the next morning, Cartham ran over to me.

“Madame, I am terribly sorry. I had no choice but to space out the courses at dinner last night. I couldn’t refuse Master’s order,” he said as he nimbly took my hand and gave it a kiss.

It was a firm kiss, too! On top of such an over-the-top expression of grief! Ever the smooth operator. I’ve learned to let it go, but still. I guess I’ve finally gotten used to him!

Pulling my hand back from him with no hurt feelings, I said, “It’s not your fault, Cartham. I’m not worried about it. Oh, but... from now on, I’ll actually have to talk to him.”

Why do I feel like I’m being forced into it, though? What do I do, just try my best and have a good time talking with him? Seems like an advanced level technique.

Seeing me grow depressed at the thought of what lay ahead, Cartham winked at me and said, “I won’t go as fast as before, but I’ll give you as much time as I’m able.”

“Oh gosh, thank you! I’ll try to use it wisely.” I splendidly ignored his wink, but he did seem earnest.

Mr. Fisalis went on with his routine of dining with me every night and then going back to the cottage. And without fail, everyone wished him a good night in a way that felt like we were congratulating one another’s hard work. The servants always sent him off with straight-A-worthy smiles.

By this point, Calendula had invited herself into the house a number of times.

At first she managed to force herself to smile, but lately she didn’t even try to hide that she was in a bad mood.

She never caught me, I guess, because in her head she had already categorized me as just a ‘useless little girl.’ Rohtas would simply call for Dahlia.

She hadn’t the slightest idea that I was actually the lady of the house. So long as I was in my uniform, I was just an exceedingly normal young girl of next to no merit.

Would she call me a ‘homewrecker’ if she knew I was the duchess? I’d kind of like to hear that hard-hitting, cutthroat phrase just once in my life.

If I was saying it, however, it would probably come out more like, “You and your big dog are a real pain in my neck! You need to keep him on a shorter leash!”

For now, though, we aren’t at war with each other. Rohtas, capable as he is, always manages to fend her off at the door for me.

Oh, am I ever indebted to you, Rohtas.

Or more precisely, if Mr. Fisalis has been arguing with her (as the servants at the main house and I surmise), now is not the time for him to be showing up at the house every day. In fact, he ought to be returning to the cottage after work to smooth things over with her.

But...

Contrary to our expectations, Mr. Fisalis continued on with his impulsive actions, which only made the problem worse.

One day, after I’d hurried to the entrance upon hearing he was home, he handed me an envelope.

“What’s this?”

I accepted it with suspicion, but acted like nothing was out of the ordinary. It was a white envelope that felt like it was made of fine paper. It was addressed in elegant calligraphy to ‘Duke Cercis Tinensis Fisalis.’

It was clearly meant for Mr. Fisalis, and when I turned it over, I saw that it was sealed with gold beeswax.

I looked up at Mr. Fisalis in shock when I realized the letter had come from the royal family. Even someone like me, with no connections to speak of, would recognize their famous coat of arms!

“It’s an invitation from the royal palace. They will be holding a party one evening soon, and you and I are invited,” he told me, smiling faintly.

“Huh!? An evening party?”

I blinked repeatedly, stunned.

Um, the contract said I didn’t have to socialize. And a fancy soiree definitely counts as socializing. I didn’t know what to think, so I stared back at him blankly.

“Er, yes. So, will you come with me?” he asked with a gentle smile, like it was no big deal.

“Erm, I think that can be arranged,” I answered, before I could really think it over.