Chapter 3: You dare to touch me, didn’t you?, Part 2

Preventing misdeeds was key.

Allowing her to act on her impulses would increase her malice gauge, leading to a bad ending and making redemption impossible.

Besides, as a gentleman, I couldn’t stand idly by while she mutilated a servant.

That’s enough! I wanted to shout, even if it meant risking my life.

“Are you deaf? I asked you what you think you’re doing.”

Seraphina was furious. Her eyes blazed with anger.

I slowly released her arm and chuckled nervously.

“My apologies, mistress. I shouldn’t have grabbed your arm.”
“Apologies?”

A cruel smile spread across her lips.

“Don’t you know that apologies from a servant are punishable by death?”

Her aura was oppressive, suffocating.

Her twisted logic was infuriating.

One apology, one death. Like touching a flame and getting burned.

Seraphina was fire incarnate.

“Your calculations are impressive, mistress. However, they can be detrimental.”
“Ha! What’s that supposed to mean?”
“This maid is your servant, correct?”
“And?”
“She’s a resident of Grace Field. Her family and neighbors will notice if she’s maimed. What will they think of you, their Countess, then?”
“…”

My words hit their mark.

Despite her harsh rule, Seraphina maintained a positive image by ensuring the prosperity of her people.

If a servant were maimed for a trivial reason within the mansion walls, it would spark unrest and discontent.

“Have mercy, mistress.”
“Hmph. You’re amusing.”

[Seraphina’s Malice Gauge has decreased by 1%.]

Seraphina glared at the maid.

“Be more careful next time.”
“Y-yes, mistress! I’ll be more careful!”
“Leave the dress and get out.”
“Y-yes…!”

The maid hastily placed the dress on a nearby chair and fled.

“And you, Black Hound.”
“Yes?”

Shink!

“Gah!”

She pressed her sword against my throat, her eyes filled with resentment.

“Don’t presume to lecture me. Or I’ll slowly carve you up and bathe in your blood.”

My words had bruised her pride.

A servant lecturing a noble was an unforgivable offense.

I raised my hands in surrender.

“Ha ha ha… I apologize, mistress.”
“Get out.”
“Ha ha, right away.”

This was it.

My plan to redeem this ferocious villainess had begun.

Our…love story, or rather, my work as a Mediator, had commenced.

My duties as a trainee butler were straightforward: wake Seraphina, assist her with dressing, brief her on her schedule, escort her to her appointments, accompany her on afternoon walks in the garden after lunch, observe her training in the courtyard, wait for her to finish her evening work after dinner, and stay with her until she retired for the night.

Essentially, I was to attend to her every need from dawn till dusk.

Spending all day with such a beauty? This is amazing! I thought.

Knock, knock.

“Mistress, excuse me.”

I opened the door and entered her room.

The curtains were drawn, shrouding the room in darkness.

I gently shook Seraphina awake.

“Mistress, it’s time to wake up.”
“Mmm…”

She rolled over, mumbling sleepily.

I opened the curtains, letting the sunlight stream in.

“Mmm… I want to sleep more…”

She sounded like a child. It was hard to believe this was the same woman who had threatened to bathe in blood.

“Mistress, shall I prepare your meal?”
“Mmm…”

She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes.

“…Mmm…”
“Mistress?”
“Alright, alright… I’m up… Mmm…”

Even her sleepy face was beautiful.

Her long red hair was disheveled, and she wore only a white shirt.

She was just as alluring as she was in the game illustrations.

Seeing my 2D fantasies come to life was overwhelming.

“May I bring you your dress?”
“Yeah.”

I retrieved the red dress from the wardrobe and handed it to her.

“Here you are.”
“Thanks.”

She took the dress and began unbuttoning her shirt, seemingly unconcerned by my presence.

Was it her boldness, or was she still half-asleep? It didn’t matter.

I was captivated by her figure. She was like a succubus. Her curves were breathtaking, her waist slender, her tattoo even more striking in person.

Oh my god! She’s amazing! The illustrations didn’t do her justice.

Seeing her from every angle was a true reward. I couldn’t help but cheer internally.

Please keep undressing!

“…Hey.”
“…Yes?”
“Get out before I gouge your eyes out.”

She threw a pillow at me.

So close! Her eyes were cold, but her face was flushed.

I quickly excused myself, stammering apologies as I retreated.

Crash!

“You call this breakfast?”

Shattered porcelain littered the floor. She had smashed several plates.

“What is wrong with these scones?”
“I-I’m sorry! I’ll bring you more!”

The scones were atrocious.

Some were soggy, some were rock hard, and some tasted like pure flour.

Seraphina was livid. She ran a hand through her hair and stood up, radiating an intimidating aura.

The servants dropped to their knees.

“M-Mistress! Please spare us!”
“Have mercy!”

Failing to satisfy her palate was a serious offense, punishable by torture or even death.

The servants trembled.

“Do you think saying ‘sorry’ will make this go away?”
“B-but…”
“It’s alright. You can apologize. But actions have consequences.”

Countess Seraphina Fires’s philosophy: apologies weren’t enough. Actions had consequences. One apology, one death.

The servants braced themselves for punishment.

“I’ll start by cutting out your useless tongues. You clearly haven’t tasted anything decent.”

In her eyes, they deserved to suffer for failing to create a palatable scone.

A cruel smile played on her lips.

“Shall we proceed?”
“M-Mistress!”
“Please spare us!”

This was going to get bloody.

[Seraphina Fires is about to torture the servants.]
[Seraphina Fires’s Malice Gauge is at 99%.]

Amid the rising panic, Isavel calmly assessed the situation.

The malice gauge was dangerously high. Anything could happen. He knew what awaited the servants if he didn’t intervene: the maids would be chained and whipped, the men thrown into a pig pen to be devoured alive, all while Seraphina watched with amusement.

Isabel had a different plan.

Operation: Blue Jam Scones.

He approached the Countess, holding a tray.

“Mistress?”
“What?”
“Try this before you make your decision.”
“…?”

He presented her with a plate of scones.

They looked and smelled identical to the others, but there was a crucial difference.

The sight of them seemed to calm Seraphina’s anger.

“…You stay. Everyone else, out.”
“W-what?”
“Everyone except the Black Hound. Leave.”

She dismissed the other servants.

Once they were gone, a tense silence filled the room.

Seraphina sat back down and crossed her legs.

“Where did you get these?”
“What? I made them.”
“Why is there jam on them?”

Unlike the others, Isavel’s scones were adorned with blueberry jam.

“They taste better with jam.”
“Taste better?”
“Yes. Who would eat these dry things without jam?”

Seraphina chuckled at his simple answer.

“So you put jam on them for your sake?”
“Yes. They’re not very good without it. Do you dislike jam?”
“I…don’t like it.”
“Are you sure you’re not just pretending?”
“…”

He was pushing his luck.

Seraphina summoned her sword and pointed it at his throat.

“Do you want to die?”

Isabel quickly adopted a playful expression.

“I apologize, mistress. I made them for you, so please, try one.”
“…”

She hesitated, then took a bite. She secretly wanted to try the jam.

…Delicious.

It had been a long time since she had enjoyed a meal so simple and sweet.

[Seraphina Fires’s Malice Gauge has decreased by 1%.]

“How is it?”
“Hmph. It’s disgusting.”

She turned away, trying to hide her enjoyment.

“Thank you for trying it.”
“Shut up and clear the table.”

She abruptly left the dining hall.