“Damn it... put this thing on, quick.”

Arman shut his eyes with an awkward look. He took a tense deep breath, but all he could smell was Evelia’s scent.

This was the first time he’d ever closed his eyes so defenselessly in front of someone from the enemy camp. His heart pounded wildly. It felt even faster than when he’d been hit with that vicious poison before.

“You don’t need it anymore?”

“What would I need that thing for...?!”

“...I see.”

Evelia didn’t say anything else. Silently, she took off her shoes and lifted a leg. She’d meant to lean back and stretch it out a little, but the carriage was too cramped. The moment she raised her leg, her bare foot landed right on Arman’s knee. As if to steady herself on it, her toes even gave it a light little scratch.

Arman’s pants did nothing to block the warmth and softness of her sole. This body, newly made through alchemy, was far more delicate than that of an ordinary person her age. Naturally, the soles of her feet were tender to an absurd degree. Even though all the walking lately had left a few calluses, the soft warmth there hadn’t changed much at all.

And maybe because the carriage was bumping along, the sole of her foot rubbed against his knee a few times. Arman, already straining to endure it, couldn’t stop his throat from tightening. A muffled groan slipped out.

He’d wanted to open his eyes and see what the hell Evelia was doing. But the moment he did, because of the angle of her raised leg, the live view was crystal clear.

This was way more stimulating than just seeing underwear.

“...Could you please not step on my leg?”

“Ah, okay.”

As she spoke, Evelia shifted around. She turned from facing Arman to sitting sideways to him, then rested those long legs on the seat beside her.

But she wasn’t putting on socks or shoes.

She was putting on the underwear beneath that white dress.

And because she was turned sideways, when she pulled her panties up, her arm blocked the dress from falling naturally. Instead, it dragged the skirt up with it.

Now it wasn’t just the front anymore. Arman got a clear side view too.

“...”

What a sin.

He slapped a hand against his forehead in misery.

Arman’s mood slowly shifted from flustered agitation to a kind of helplessness he couldn’t even put into words.

“Mr. Arman, I’m dressed now.”

“Y-Yeah, I know.”

How could he not know? He’d seen every important part of the whole process.

Click.

It shouldn’t have taken long to get back to the manor by carriage from the street. But when the carriage finally stopped and the wheels came to rest, Arman felt like he’d already been through far too much today.

“We’re here, Eve.” Looking at the familiar gates of the manor, Arman let out a sigh of relief inside. “Get down.”

“Okay. Thank you for bringing me back, Mr. Arman.”

As if she had no idea she’d done anything outrageous at all, Evelia said goodbye in the same calm tone as always.

Arman unlocked the carriage door for her. With a crisp click, the wind outside blew in again. It was nowhere near as fierce as the gust from the street corner earlier, but Arman still quickly reached out and draped the coat he’d taken off before over Evelia completely. The oversized coat wrapped her up tight.

With the height difference between Evelia and Arman, plus the long trench-coat style, the hem of the coat was even longer than her dress. If Evelia had been any shorter, she probably would’ve looked like a white barrel wrapped up in it.

“Make sure no one sees those things of yours.”

As he warned her, Arman fastened every button on the knight uniform jacket she was wearing over herself.

“What?” Evelia looked at Arman’s strange expression, then at his hurried hands buttoning her up.

“I mean your...” Arman paused. “The stuff in that black bag.”

“My black lace underwear and maid fetish outfit?”

There was actually also a lingerie catalog inside. Arman hadn’t asked for it, so she hadn’t taken it out. That thing was one of the true roots of all evil.

“Right. That.”

Arman genuinely had no idea how she could say something like that so plainly and seriously.

“Okay, Mr. Arman. I won’t show it to anyone else.”

“And... and the set you’re wearing too.”

Thoughtfully, Arman rolled up the sleeves of the coat, which were far too long for her. But when his fingers brushed the back of Evelia’s hand, his mind immediately replayed the feeling of her sole rubbing against his knee.

Damn it—why did this feel stronger than even when they’d clasped fingers before?

The more Arman thought about it, the more irritated he became. By the end, he’d even buttoned the last few buttons wrong and had to hurriedly fix them.

“Mhm, I understand.” Evelia nodded.

“...”

Arman looked at Evelia, who accepted every order with that same expressionless face, and hesitated before speaking.

“Do you never ask why?”

Even though Arman didn’t like how sharp Evelia could be at times, for some reason, looking at her face that never showed even a trace of change, he still asked that question.

“Why? Why what?”

She didn’t seem to understand what he meant.

“I mean—when I tell you to do something, don’t you ever ask why I’m telling you to do it?”

Arman raised his head and looked into Evelia’s still-calm golden eyes. The two of them had always tried to read something useful from each other’s gazes, both full of disguise.

“I don’t need to ask, Mr. Arman.”

Evelia shook her head.

“Because you are my master, and I am your maid. My master’s orders are everything, so I don’t need to ask why.”

The answer was stiff, but Arman wasn’t surprised. It was exactly the kind of thing someone like Evelia would say.

She really did look like the kind of person whose loyalty ran so deep she could abandon her own will for it.

But—

Who exactly did that loyalty belong to?

Arman didn’t even realize it himself, but his fingers had already closed around Evelia’s wrist, unconsciously tightening. Evelia, meanwhile, didn’t seem pained or uncomfortable from the grip at all. The two of them simply stared at each other in silence.

“So you really do listen to your master, huh, Eve.”

He let out a small laugh and lowered his head.

“Yes. Whatever my master needs me to do, I will do.”

—A lie.

Even Arman felt the mockery in that exchange.

And the “master” in each of their mouths was not the same person at all.

“Alright. Get down.”

Arman let go, then smiled as he helped Evelia—her wrist now faintly red—out of the carriage. After that, he only gave a small nod and had the driver take him to the street where he needed to work.

Evelia watched Arman’s carriage go farther and farther away. Only after it vanished from sight did she casually twist her wrist a little and step through the manor gates.

Because Arman was the commander of the Knights Order, his uniform was completely different from that of ordinary knights. Anyone could recognize it at a glance. The old butler happened to be coming straight toward her. When he saw Evelia wrapped up so tightly, he looked her up and down in curiosity, then walked over and asked,

“Miss Evelia, where have you been? Why are you covered up so tightly?”

“...”

Evelia glanced at the old butler, remembered Arman’s words—“Make sure no one sees”—and thought for a moment. Then she raised a hand and pulled Arman’s coat tighter around herself.

“Mr. Arman said only he’s allowed to see this.”

“...?”

Watching Evelia walk off right after saying that, the old butler could only stand there frozen, his head full of question marks.