ORCA 75

Niah chatted away about the young master with a joyful expression. Since he would wear a subtly disappointed look if I didn’t ask, I would throw various questions his way at every breakfast. The stories he rambled on about were more or less the same every day.

Most of his daily routine consisted of things like what they did in the greenhouse yesterday, what they planted in the vegetable garden, or what he cleaned—or failed to clean—in the young master’s room. In truth, the young master himself was usually a secondary detail. He would say the young master was by his side, but he wouldn’t tell me the specifics. Even when I asked him indirectly, he would just giggle.

So, I worried: What if Niah is the only one having fun and feeling excited? Given Niah’s personality, there was plenty of room for that to be the case. Perhaps he wasn’t happy because the young master was doing something for him, but simply because he had received permission to come to the young master, and was thus accepting everything as a source of joy. To me, it felt like nothing more than a servant’s daily report of a job well done, which only deepened my concern. His joyful face was, ironically, a source of worry.

Of course, the garden servants gathered in the hall would complain every night about how hard it was to work lately. The reason was the young master, who supposedly visited the greenhouse and the garden every single day. I would secretly feel relieved, thinking that he really must be staying by his side all day, but then the next day, listening to Niah’s chatter, I would fall back into doubt. I couldn’t dig too deep, fearing that if my concerns were true, it would be better not to know.

After the thought that it might be better to let him enjoy himself at least until he leaves, followed the regret: Was my advice to encourage Niah to get involved with the young master wrong, knowing full well that he would be leaving before long?

Thanks to having backing, his life had improved for the moment, but it was unknown how things would change after the young master departed. I felt sorry already, fearing I had led him down a more painful path just by looking at the changed attitudes of the servants in a single day. I had set this in motion, but I could see no way to fix it. I couldn’t keep the young master here, and it was a difficult situation.

Fortunately, my worry that Niah might be the only one having fun was definitively proven useless. Seeing them standing at the doorway, whispering back and forth, half of the worry lodged in my solar plexus was washed away at once. It seemed that the truly happy moments were a secret between them, so he had simply left those parts out of his stories.

When the young master opened his mouth to say something briefly, Niah would tilt his head to and fro. They spoke so softly I couldn’t hear a word. All I could see was the back of his head swaying as he leaned toward the young master. I had thought I was the person he was closest to, but it turned out I was second. I felt a sense of disappointment mixed with contentment; it was a strange feeling.

“You look at this too, sir.”

Niah led Orca into the distillery. Orca, who followed along obediently as he was told, faced Harriet for the fourth time since hearing her name. He scanned her up and down as she stood behind the table. He knew it was an impolite act, even considering a master’s attitude toward his house servants. However, he had been extremely bothered by the identity of the servant who was constantly mentioned by the goldfish. After observing her simple, kind face and polite posture for a moment, Orca lowered his gaze to the hand tugging at him.

“Look at this. It’s pretty. She said she’ll use it for the party. Isn’t it cute?”

It wasn’t cute at all. In the first place, he couldn’t understand feeling any emotion over something like flowers. To him, a stone at the bottom of the sea and a flower before his eyes were one and the same. He simply figured that if the goldfish said it was pretty, it must be pretty, and if he said it was cute, it must be cute. The goldfish babbled that everything was pretty and cute. He probably would have been delighted, calling it cute, if someone had just picked up a tree branch for him while passing by. Orca rolled his eyes just enough to scan the colorful flowers, far less thoroughly than he had inspected Harriet. His answer came promptly.

“Yeah. I suppose so.”

“Really?”

Niah bowed his waist and leaned in, entering Orca’s field of vision to meet his eyes. Niah was just happy because the young master agreed with him, but Orca felt uncomfortably struck to the core. Returning his gaze to the flowers, he said a sincere “Yes” this time. Even looking at them a second time, they were still equally “not cute,” but this was the only answer the goldfish wanted. Seeing him grin with satisfaction, I knew it was the correct answer.

Harriet bit her lip, suppressing a laugh that threatened to burst out. The combination of the emotionless young master—whom she would have found terrifying if she had met him elsewhere—and Niah, who looked brighter than she had ever seen him, suited them better than she had imagined. Seeing not a hint of fear in Niah, she even found him slightly impressive. She wondered if he had developed some kind of immunity after being by his side all day.

She sympathized with why the garden servants were having such a hard time. If she were a garden servant, she wouldn’t want to see such a master every single day, either. That would be true for anyone other than Niah. Still, she wanted to watch the two of them together more. It was too much of a waste to let such a rare opportunity slip away. Remembering Niah’s words that he might get scolded by the young master if he wasn’t careful, she decided to lure Niah in.

“Niah, do you want to try it, too?”

“Really? Can I do it too?”

“Of course, naturally. If you aren’t busy, that is. What do you say?”

Roanna, who had been holding her breath, let out a gasp without realizing it. She had intended to stay quiet and pretend she didn’t exist until the young master left, but because Harriet had grabbed onto Niah, all three pairs of eyes turned in one direction. Niah, who had been hidden behind Orca’s large frame, peeked out only with his eyes. At the sudden attention, Roanna’s face flushed with embarrassment. Clasping her own hands together in a gesture of deference, she lowered her gaze.

Niah only then realized that there was someone other than Harriet there. Roanna was one of the servants who was close with Adrian. He had no memory of her being particularly cruel to him, but he knew she was on good terms with Adrian. He had seen her several times waiting nearby and returning together when he was being scolded.

At least lately, they hadn’t been assigning him odd jobs, so there was almost no chance of running into either of them unless they were in the dining hall. Since he didn’t run into them, he didn’t have to be scolded by Adrian. Since he wasn’t being scolded, he didn’t have to look at Roanna, who would look back at him and sneer.

Furthermore, the other servants besides Pepe had also changed somehow, making trips to the dining hall easier than before. Luan would pile his plate high with hot food. Harriet was always there in the dining hall, and after he ate, the young master would come wherever he was to meet him, so naturally, he lost interest in his surroundings. He had no time to turn his eyes elsewhere. That was why he had forgotten about everything.

Suddenly, his mind went blank. He hadn’t expected to meet Roanna here. It was always empty unless Harriet was there; he didn’t know why Roanna was here today. Niah shrank in on himself instantly. He wanted to escape this place as soon as possible. It was as if he had run into a stranger in a mansion where only he, the young master, and Harriet lived. He was under the illusion that he could hear Adrian’s screeching from somewhere.

‘Niah! You idiot!’

Niah flinched and hid behind Orca, shaking his head frantically. Harriet looked at Niah with a puzzled expression.

“No, uh… I have to wash the dishes, and… next time, next time. I’ll do it quickly and come back.”

When the voice of the goldfish, who was standing pressed tight against him, trembled, Orca narrowed his brows. Every time the goldfish was consumed by fear on his own, his reason would fly out the window. He felt like he would go mad. His insides felt twisted, and he wished he could just rip them all out.

The fact that he was like this because of someone other than himself was even more displeasing to him. A chaotic train of thought raced through his mind. Maintaining a calm exterior in the middle of it all was quite the ordeal. Even smoothing out the faint lines that had etched themselves onto his forehead was an effort.

The reason for the goldfish’s sudden strange reaction was simple. It wasn’t hard to deduce, unless he had made a point of hiding it to lead him into a labyrinth. Either he was afraid because he thought he had done something wrong, or there was a problem with his memory—one of the two. But this time, the cause was that servant he didn’t know. He had glanced at the servant past him and then shrank away.

Knowing the reason didn’t make him any less angry. It was annoying that he wouldn’t try to rely even on him, who was standing right next to him. It infuriated him that he acted as if he could handle it all on his own, pretending nothing was wrong. The goldfish still only knew how to cry his eyes out and beg for forgiveness. When he actually needed him, he never knew how to lean on him.

“Niah.”