Chapter 33 : Chapter 33
Volume 1
Chapter 33 : Déjà Vu
“Whew, it is still as delicious as ever.”
Muen sat alone at the dining table, elegantly handling his knife and fork as he enjoyed tonight’s dinner.
The Duke’s residence’s chef was still as skilled as ever, bringing him the utmost pleasure on the level of taste.
“If you think it is that delicious, Young Master, then you should not be forgetting to eat in the first place.”
Ann stood behind Muen and could not help complaining.
“If the master or madam were to find out, I would be punished for it.”
“Sorry, Ann.”
Muen smiled apologetically. “I will pay attention from now on.”
“This is not the sort of thing that should only be said with words.”
Ann bent down and placed a crystal-clear goblet before Muen.
“Would Young Master like a little to drink? This is a treasured red wine sent by Count Locke. They say his vineyard only produces a hundred bottles of this a year. It is such a rare vintage that even he cannot bear to drink it himself. On the market, it has already been driven up to the astonishing price of two hundred thousand Aemir per bottle.”
“I…”
Muen had originally wanted to agree. After all, it was a fine wine he could never have afforded in his previous life, so naturally he wanted to taste it.
But when he thought about what he still had to do after dinner, he forced himself to suppress that desire. Alcohol would be bad for his memory.
“Forget it. I will not drink.”
Ann’s hand, which was holding the bottle of red wine, stiffened.
“…Then what would the Young Master like to drink?”
“Coffee.”
Coffee would help keep him awake.
Although it was not exactly a good match for dinner, Muen had no intention of bringing drinks into the library.
Every book in there was precious.
“…Coffee.”
“What is it?”
Muen noticed that something was off about Ann.
She did not move briskly to carry out his request the way she normally would.
“My apologies, Young Master Muen, but for a certain reason, your only choices for tonight’s drink are red wine or black tea.”
“Hm?”
For some reason, those words sounded strangely familiar.
Still, Muen did not think too much about it and asked instinctively,
“Why?”
“Because of one maid’s negligence, the sack storing the coffee beans was bitten open by mice, and quite a bit of the coffee was eaten.”
Ann answered, “I assume Young Master Muen does not want to drink coffee that mice have been chewing on.”
“…No, I definitely do not.”
Muen nodded.
“Then black tea.”
When it came to staying alert, tea worked just as well.
“Understood.”
Ann gave a slight bow and prepared to leave to make the tea.
“Wait.”
Muen suddenly called out to her and asked doubtfully,
“You are going to make it yourself, Ann?”
“Hm? Young Master, am I not a maid?”
“But you are already the head maid. Something as minor as making tea…”
“Even if I am already the head maid, I am still your personal maid, Young Master. Naturally, something like making tea for you should be done by me personally.”
“Is that so…”
Muen frowned slightly.
“Then go ahead.”
“Yes, Young Master.” Ann gave a small nod. “Please excuse me for a moment.”
“…”
Watching Ann’s departing figure, Muen could not help rubbing his chin and murmuring in confusion,
“This all feels a little strange. It is full of some weird sense of déjà vu.”
But he could not put his finger on exactly what was strange.
“I must just be too tired.”
Muen laughed at himself. “There is no way Ann would do anything to harm me.”
…
Before long, Ann brought the black tea over.
As it happened, Muen had already finished eating and was wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin.
“Thanks.”
Muen accepted the tea and prepared to take a small sip first.
But just as he lifted the teacup, he paused.
He lowered his head to look at the tea, then raised it to look at expressionless Ann, and could not help saying,
“Ann.”
“Yes, Young Master. Is there something else you need?”
“This black tea is awfully red.”
“But is black tea not supposed to brew red?”
“But whenever I used to drink black tea, it was always a light reddish color. This one is bright red.”
“That may be because the tea leaves are different.”
Ann explained,
“It is like how the oranges from North Dunel may be smaller than the ones from Nancy Territory, yet sweeter. Black teas from different regions may also differ slightly in color.”
“…Then.”
Muen held the teacup back out to her and stared into her eyes.
“You drink it first.”
“…”
Ann looked at the teacup and said nothing.
She was still expressionless.
If Muen had not been standing this close and clearly sensed that faint floral fragrance coming from her body, he might have thought the figure in front of him was not a living person at all, but a statue.
After a moment of silence, Ann still took the teacup.
“Young Master, do you suspect me?”
“No. I just think you have been busy all day, Ann. You should have a cup of tea and rest a little.”
“Young Master, you are so gentle.”
Ann slowly raised the teacup to her lips.
Muen continued staring fixedly at her, unwilling to miss even the slightest strange movement.
He would keep watching until she had completely drunk the cup.
“Ah…”
But in the end, Ann did not drink it.
Instead, she suddenly sighed and said softly,
“When did you become this vigilant, Young Master?”
“So there really is something wrong!”
Muen leapt straight up from his chair, planted his hands on his hips, and let out a cold laugh.
“You drugged the tea, did you not? Hmph. You thought a stale old trick like that could fool me? How naive.”
“A stale old trick?”
Ann tilted her head.
“So that means Young Master has used the same trick on someone else before?”
“Ahem, ahem. That is not important.”
Muen coughed twice, then his expression immediately turned serious as he fixed Ann with a hard stare.
“What matters is this: why did you drug me, and why did you betray me, Ann?”
Ann was Muen’s personal maid.
She was someone who had followed him ever since he was eight years old.
Whether in the original novel or now, Ann should have been the person most loyal to Muen.
That was why Muen could not understand it.
For someone like Ann, what reason could there possibly be for betrayal?
“I have never betrayed you, Young Master.”
Ann lowered her head and gazed at the teacup.
Through the tea’s reflection, she looked into her own eyes, which remained calm even after everything had been exposed.
But only she knew that beneath those tranquil eyes, the darkness and desire she had long been unable to suppress were already surging wildly.
Surging, surging, until at last they overflowed.
“I am merely pulling everything back onto the proper track.”
“The proper track?”
Muen frowned, unable to understand what Ann meant.
“I do not care what your intentions are, but since you have already failed, then—”
“Failed?”
Ann suddenly lifted her head and smiled.
“Why would you think that, Young Master?”
“Huh?”
Muen froze.
It was not just because of what Ann had said, but because on her usually dignified face, there now appeared an expression Muen had never seen before—one that was faintly twisted.
She was indeed smiling, yet behind those deep black eyes, it was as if some monster were breaking free from its cage, casting toward Muen the greedy gaze of a dragon that had spotted a jewel.
Crack.
The crisp sound yanked Muen’s awareness back to reality.
His eyes widened in astonishment, because he saw Ann use that slender, pale, bonelessly soft hand of hers—the same hand that had always tidied his room, arranged his clothes, and served him tea, but had never once held a weapon—and suddenly crush the teacup in her hand to pieces.
No, not pieces.
Powder.
Because Muen saw glittering porcelain dust mixed with tea running out through the gaps between Ann’s fingers.
“You forced my hand, Young Master~”
Ann began walking toward Muen, one step at a time.
“This is bad.”
At the sight of that, a chill shot from the soles of Muen’s feet straight to his scalp.
Since when did a maid have that kind of grip strength?
But Muen had only enough time to roar inwardly before he heard the sound of something slicing through the air.
It came from behind his head.
Then Muen’s vision went black, and he instantly lost consciousness.