Never mind why a guy’s room would even have a maid outfit.
Even if it did, there was absolutely no way he’d wear it—ever.
Putting it on? With his social anxiety, he’d probably collapse on the spot.
“For the record,” Alte added with a helpless sigh, likely noticing Favna’s shocked and frightened expression, “I have zero interest in cross-dressing.”
“This was my little sister’s. She wore it once while cleaning here, all excited about the ‘maid chores’ idea. After that? It’s just been gathering dust.”
*Ages ago?*
*How long exactly?*
Favna eyed the outfit. It’d probably fit her… so Alte’s sister couldn’t have been much older, right?
Wait—why was she even thinking about fit?
She wasn’t wearing it. No way.
“I’m not wearing it!”
Her tone sounded firm, but it was really just panic talking.
“Fine. I wasn’t forcing you,” Alte said. “I just thought—without some kind of uniform, explaining your presence here would be tricky… Anyway, tidy up the room. I’ve got paperwork.”
He pulled a broom from the corner—thick with dust—and handed it to her before settling back at his desk.
Seeing him absorbed in documents and ignoring her, Favna let out a quiet sigh of relief. She scanned the modest room.
Yeah, it was messy.
Not as chaotic as her own dragon’s den, but Alte didn’t look like a shut-in either.
Still puzzled, she flipped the light on.
Three rooms total: office, storage (with a washroom inside), nothing else. No kitchen. No proper bedroom.
So he slept on that narrow 1.5-meter bed every night?
“You live here full-time?”
“Mostly. Only leave during long holidays for my place outside the barracks.”
Favna nodded. Then: “How do you eat? No kitchen…”
*Right—this is the Dragon Knights Barracks. No deliveries… Wait.*
“Oh! The Order must have a cafeteria.”
“Yep. Eat there daily. When swamped, my team brings meals.”
After some light chatter, they fell into their tasks. Favna wasn’t talkative anyway.
By the time the office gleamed—spotless, sunlit—a warm pride bloomed in her chest.
*Huh. I’m actually decent at this.*
“Great work, Miss Favna,” Alte said from the sofa, having finished his tasks. “Knew I picked the right person.”
“Obviously~” She puffed her chest proudly. She loved praise.
But quickly added, “Just call me Favna. ‘Miss’ feels… weird.”
*Back in my past life, ‘Miss’ was for… questionable jobs.* A shiver ran down her spine.
“Favna…” He hesitated—first-name basis felt too familiar—then smiled. “Honestly, I’m impressed. A lovely girl like you? Your place must be pristine. Unlike mine… total pigsty.”
Favna’s smile froze. She scratched her head. “Y-yeah! Haha…”
*Who’d admit their own room’s a pigsty?!*
She pivoted fast. “Office is done. Next, I’ll clean the storage room. Gives you a real bedroom—no more sleeping in the office.”
*As Captain of the Dragon Knights Order, he should keep some dignity.*
“Thanks. You keep going. I’ll be out a bit.”
Alte glanced back at her—less tense than their first meeting.
*If she really is a dragon… building rapport isn’t a bad move.*
He headed to the cafeteria. Not far.
Philo was serving food to rowdy Dragon Knights.
The Order was sealed off—only knights, families, or invited guests allowed. Meals were handled internally. Today, Philo was on duty.
“Seriously?!” Philo glared at her crew. “How many bowls have you eaten?!”
Some bold knight yelled, “’Cause Vice-Captain Philo’s cooking’s amazing! Anyone else’s? We’d skip it!”
Roars of laughter erupted.
“Eat now, train it off tonight!” Her scolding only fueled the chaos.
Alte sighed, watching knights who clearly enjoyed the ribbing. He stepped to the window.
“Rough shift, little sis.”
“Nah,” Philo shrugged. “But bro—you’re late. Food’s cold. Want it reheated?”
“I’ll manage.”
Under her confused stare, Alte calmly carried off two servings.
