"If you say one more word, I'll really kill you here."
"……."
"Get out now."
I had heard that nobles and royalty kept guns in their bedrooms for protection, but I wondered where this one had come from, given that it hadn't been there a moment ago.
And he was serious. Even though I knew he couldn't possibly mean it, his murky eyes, which seemed to be staring straight at me, made me swallow hard involuntarily.
"Well, then I'll take a look at the underwear."
Straightening up, I grabbed the pile of laundry and practically ran out of the room. Of course, my legs gave out as soon as I closed the door.
I slid down to the floor in front of the door. My heart was pounding. The feeling of the gun against my forehead was still vivid. Did he really intend to shoot?
Why did I overlook this?
That the master of this earl's house is truly insane.
As I handed the basket of laundry to Renika, she feigned surprise. She was clearly taken aback that I had brought a perfect load of laundry today, unlike my usual disheveled and exhausted state where I barely managed to bring pillowcases and sheets.
She was one of the few people I saw every day since coming to this mansion. Every morning, she would come to the annex to collect the laundry and bring new items.
"It seems to have gone smoothly this time."
"Thanks to the master."
Thanks to him, I've had a rough time.
Even though my bangs would hide my face, I forced a smile. Complaining about how hard it was wouldn't get me anywhere, so I had to pretend everything was fine. Renika looked me up and down with a renewed sense of surprise before leaving with the laundry.
Once she was gone, I sighed and shuffled back inside.
This morning's "harvest" was just that. Breakfast ended up being overturned as usual. The memory of him pressing the gun to my forehead made me unable to be forceful this time. He didn't care that I hadn't eaten anything last night either.
No wonder he's so thin. He doesn't eat properly. Once he gets something, he just throws it, so what can you expect?
As a result, it was my job to deal with the food he didn't eat. I had a late breakfast, tearing into the cold, thin soup and bread. This was a luxury in itself. In the past, I was often hungry, and the food left by my father and Alicia was all I had to eat.
Yeah, when I think about my life before coming here, what's there to be afraid of with the master's temper?
But Vincent's misdeeds continued after that. The lunch I brought was not even allowed into the room, and I was chased out. As soon as I entered, he started throwing things around. It seemed he had deliberately gathered items to throw, and as soon as I opened the door, he started. I couldn't stand it for a moment. It was a mistake to have brought back the clock and vase when he was briefly asleep.
Every time he throws and breaks things, I have to replace them with new ones. It's dangerous, and I once asked Isabella if it was really necessary, but she said that when they removed all the items, he scratched himself all over. In other words, he was self-harming. He wouldn't stop even when his nails broke and his wounds bled. After this happened a few times, they decided to keep the items stocked. It seemed he was venting his foul temper by throwing things. As a result, I was the one suffering.
And it was the same in the evening. There were no items to throw since I hadn't brought them back, but the meal was overturned as usual. Bringing it back again met with the same result. Now, as soon as I approach, he starts waving his hands. If I try to touch him, he immediately points the gun at me.
The next morning, I couldn't even change the pillowcases. After all the chaos, he determinedly brought the food I promised to feed him and ended up covering my face with it. The failure to feed him until evening was a foregone conclusion.
Two days passed. When Isabella came to check on me, she had a strange expression, as if she had expected this. She sighed softly and left, and I felt a chill. It was as if I sensed a warning that I shouldn't hear her sigh again.
That day, my patience reached its limit. I was no longer afraid of the gun he pointed at me. What was more terrifying than the gun was reality. I remembered the rumor I had heard before, about a servant who suddenly disappeared while serving the master. There was no need to ask what had happened to them.
A bowl floated in the air and landed on my head. The gruel inside soaked my hair and dripped down. The evening meal ended up overturned as usual. I was no longer surprised.
Wiping the gruel from my face, I entered my room and pounded the pillow, determined.
We'll see about that.
"Son of a bitch!"
Suppressing my anger, I got dressed and prepared breakfast, then rushed to Vincent's room. As soon as I entered, I opened the curtains to let light into the dark room and started picking up the things on the floor. Then, I pulled back the dirty sheets.
Naturally, the gun was pressed to my forehead.
"Do you want to die?"
"Just shoot me."
"What?"
"If I keep neglecting you, I'll end up dead anyway. I'll disappear without a trace soon. If I'm going to die one way or another, I'd rather die with the honor of being shot by you. So, go ahead and shoot me."
"…Are you crazy?"
"Aren't you going to shoot? Then I'll change the sheets."
As I pulled the sheets, he clutched them in panic. For a moment, our forces clashed. But he was a patient who couldn't even eat properly. I sneered and pulled with all my might.
"You really are crazy!"
With the sheets taken, Vincent shouted. I brought new sheets.
"Get out now!"
"Yes, I'll leave once I'm done. Can you get up to help me finish faster?"
I pushed Vincent, who was about to shout again, and straightened the bedspread. His body, dragged with the bedspread, fell helplessly to the floor. I ignored him and finished changing the sheets and pillowcases.
For a moment, he stared blankly into space, then regained his composure and scowled. He cut off the word "You!" mid-sentence.
"I'll bring breakfast."
The floor was cluttered with items, and given his foul temper, I didn't know what he might do, so I placed the food I had brought at the farthest door. I deliberately made loud footsteps as I moved away, then came back with the food.
Vincent felt around the floor and climbed onto the bed. I grabbed the sheet he was about to wrap around himself and handed him a spoon instead.
"What are you doing?"
"I've prepared breakfast."
"I'm not eating."
He threw the spoon to the floor. After watching it clatter, I brought a new one. I had brought extras, knowing he would do this.
"How old are you to still throw tantrums like a child?"
"Do you really want to die by my hand? Is that why you're being so insolent?"
He still had the gun in his hand. I glanced at him fiddling with it and looked back at his face.
"Can you even hit me when you can't see?"
"My fingers are fine."
"You're confident you can hit me?"
"Shooting was my specialty."
Wow, I see. I knelt in front of him and placed the bowl of gruel on my lap. I scooped up some gruel and brought it to his lips.
"Open your mouth. I'll feed you."
"Get away!"
Vincent waved his hand, but I was quicker and moved the bowl back. He felt around for something to throw, but there was nothing left after last night.
Realizing this, Vincent gripped the gun tightly. The veins on the back of his hand stood out, but he didn't shoot.
I brought the spoon to his lips again.
"Come on, ah—"
"Get it away now?"
"I'll get it away if you take one bite."
"I'm not eating. Get it away."
"Just one bite. Or do you want to feed yourself?"
"Get it away! Get out!"
"Can't you even chew?"
As an adult, can you not even chew and swallow food? I added kindly, and Vincent let out a huff. I even offered to show him how to use his jaw if he wanted.
Suddenly, he kicked the bowl on my lap. It rolled noisily on the floor, spilling gruel as it went. I closed my eyes as it tipped over.
This time, I couldn't contain my anger.
"Are you afraid of me?"
"What?"
"Are you so afraid of me that you can't even take one bite of gruel? Did I eat you or something? Are you that important? Oh, you are important. You're the master of this great house."
"…What are you trying to do?"
"I'm lecturing you."
I had tolerated his tantrums until now because his mind was sick.
He wasn't always locked in this room after losing his sight. At first, he managed to live a normal life. He listened to the butler's voice and tried to maintain a life similar to when he could see. But things kept going wrong after that.