{Alaric’s POV}
As I approached, I found her standing still, her gaze lingering on the path Renard had just walked down.
Lost in thought.
Calm, collected—but sowhere distant.
The silence stretched, almost peaceful.
I cleared my throat just a little and spoke.
"Yes, Milady."
She turned toward , her eyes locking on mine, not piercing, not soft, just... observing. Like I was a riddle half-solved.
She held my gaze for a beat.
Then turned without a word and began walking.
"Follow ."
I obeyed silently, stepping behind her, maintaining a respectful distance.
Neither too close to be intrusive nor too far to be aloof. It was instinctive, not from submission, but discipline.
Her steps were graceful, asured.
She didn’t look back. But I knew she was aware of every mont.
Then she finally spoke. Her voice calm, conversational, yet the weight of command never left it.
"You’ve been serving here for a month now... and I still don’t know who you are."
Her head turned to , slightly.
Curiosity? Maybe.
Caution? Definitely.
But her next words made pause inside.
"What’s your na?"
I blinked.
Well though.
She really didn’t know the na this body ca with, what was it? Brandon? That’s what the staff at auction said.
Why she started talking to now?
And I doubt she’ll waste her ti and resources for soone who shouldn’t exist.
Then my lips twitched a little.
But that na didn’t belong to .
I was Alaric.
That na... was mine.
Given by my mother. One of the few things she left before the wretched world took her.
And I wasn’t about to abandon it just to blend in.
Even if I was wearing the skin of another.
Even if this world saw as nothing more than a servant. A slave.
"It’s Alaric, Milady."
Just as the na escaped my lips, I noticed it—
There was a faint shift in her expression.
Shock?
Confusion?
Surprised?
So... she does know it.
But I didn’t thought much about it.
She halted, turned her head slightly, and asked again, as if to confirm, whether she misheard or not?
"What did you say?"
I t her eyes again.
"Alaric," I repeated, steady and unbothered.
She looked at for a second too long.
Then, just like that, she turned away, the soft rustle of her green gown accompanying her steps.
[Quest Progress – 43%]
I smirked inside.
So that’s the trigger part, huh?
As we approached the garden, the air shifted.
Cooler.
Quieter.
It was one of the rare places in this estate that didn’t carry the constant weight of eyes.
Even Selene’s steps seed lighter here, as if this small patch of green pulled her away from everything else.
She dropped onto the bench with a quiet, controlled sigh.
Just as I was about to speak—
[Host should behave like a good servant at least once.]
What do you an by that?
I frowned slightly at the blue panel floating in the corner of my vision.
[I’m just trying to help you, Host. Small gestures go a long way.]
I rolled my eyes inwardly.
And stepped forward silently and reached toward the small trolley beside the bench.
The porcelain teapot was warm, polished, likely recently placed here.
Without a word, I poured the tea into her cup with calm, asured movents.
She tilted her head slightly, erald eyes flicking to , not cold, not warm. Just... watching.
Curious.
When I finished, I stepped back with the sa poise and folded my hands behind .
She looked down at the tea, then slowly lifted the cup.
Sip!
Took a sip.
Then she opened her mouth and said—
"What do you think of Renard?"
The question ca out of nowhere.
I hadn’t expected that.
My brows lifted faintly, but I kept my composure and offered her a calm smile.
"Milady... do you want to answer that as a servant of this household or as..."
I paused, letting the silence stretch just enough.
"?"
She blinked.
[Quest Progress — 44%]
A grin tugged at the corner of my lips.
She didn’t look at at first—only took another sip of her tea.
Then, slowly, she turned her head toward , her erald eyes sharp and unblinking.
"Let’s say... both."
I tilted my head slightly, feigning thoughtfulness.
Then I began, staring ahead.
"He’s a man of appetites, Milady. He carries himself with authority and enjoys attention—ensures he’s always at the center of it."
Then I looked back at her and saw her starting ahead too.
"He speaks with confidence... though it lacks the weight of it’s consequences. He’s a man who relies more on title than rit."
I paused, letting the words settle.
From the corner of my eye, I saw her lips twitch—just faintly.
Amused?
Then she spoke, her voice still calm, still composed.
"These are your thoughts as a servant, I suppose?"
"Perhaps," I replied, keeping my tone neutral.
She tilted her head slightly, placing her cup down with a soft clink.
"Then tell what you think about him," she said, her eyes turning sharper now.
"And more importantly... what would you do with people like him, if you had the power?"
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{A/N}
Yo, guys, welco back.
Sorry for late update.
Btw, you can join my discord for more character arts, if you want-
.gg/ea5H3HnB
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