SIWALL 10

Winning the lottery.

As soon as Elliot, having moved his meager belongings and Camembert into his new residence, looked around the room, that was the exact thought that crossed his mind.

Roughly three times the size of Elliot’s previous home, the dazzling indoor decorations and furniture—things one would only see inside an interior design game—were literally on par with winning the lottery.

Camembert, who had initially hidden behind the curtains out of unfamiliarity, seemed to have quickly gotten used to the scent of capital, and was now making ‘bread’ (kneading) on top of the gigantic bed.

Careful not to disturb Camembert, Elliot gently laid his body down in the corner of the bed, which looked like it could be a super-large king size. The light coming from the silk-covered lamp softly illuminated the surroundings of the bed.

During the process of moving his things, Elliot did not catch a glimpse of Henderson. It was Head Maid Mrs. Megan who had shown him to his room and given him hints about his new job.

According to her, Elliot would receive the necessary training from Henderson starting at 7:00 PM tomorrow evening. She had also added that a new person would be hired for the gardener’s assistant position, so Elliot only needed to devote himself entirely to his new task.

Having his job duties suddenly changed, Elliot exchanged a tearful farewell with Benny. He had intended to quit anyway, but since it was a somewhat semi-forced decision, parting ways felt immensely regrettable. In the end, they managed to soothe the parting by promising that Elliot would still eat lunch with Benny every day even after quitting the garden work.

Transmigrating, meeting the characters of the original work, getting a job, and making an unexpected job transfer. It had been a short time, but a lot had happened. Most of it was headache-inducing, but he had still gained a cat and made a friend.

“Camembert.”

Elliot turned his head toward Camembert, who was sitting in the middle of the bed. Camembert, whose fur was glossy and sleek from eating well over the past month, didn’t even pretend to hear Elliot’s call.

“I’m sorry, for stealing your owner’s body.”

Camembert was doing better than at first, but still treated Elliot like a thief. Even though Elliot hadn’t wished for the transmigration. However, since there was no way a cat could understand such a thing, Elliot started with an apology first.

“I wonder what happened to you in the original work. Elliot… no, did you die along with El Black when he died?”

He lightly poked Camembert’s rear end with his fingertip. Camembert only flinched his round torso without dodging. Just that alone made Elliot happy. He continued speaking with a smile.

“I’ll never let that happen to you. Let’s live together.”

Let’s survive together, and even if we don’t do anything grand, let’s live a little longer.

Elliot resolved within himself. Even if he happened to encounter the Grand Duke while doing his new work, he would flatten himself completely. Still, whenever possible, he would try to avoid either Arzen Teron or Loran Pedet if he could.

Watching the cat doze off, surrendering its body to sleep and weariness, a fluffy, tender emotion welled up from deep within his heart. Somehow, it felt like he could do anything.

∞ ∞ ∞

“I can’t do this!”

Elliot let out a shriek. He was sorry to flatly refuse an unfamiliar elderly gentleman right off the bat, but impossible was impossible.

The white-haired elderly gentleman standing in front of Elliot adjusted his small-rimmed glasses with a calm expression.

“You must do it.”

“I, I’m sorry, but Mr. Henderson never said a single, tiny thing about this sort of work. Be, be, be, be, be, bed, bed, bedtime….”

“Bedtime attendant.”

“Yes, that be-be-bed… that one. If I had known I’d be doing that, that kind of work, I would have just quit.”

“Only the phrasing sounds strange, but it’s simply the work of tidying up Grand Duke Teron’s bedchamber. It’s just creating a sleeping environment so he can get a deep sleep, you see.”

You do know the phrasing sounds strange! Elliot cried out inwardly.

“I apologize, but what does creating a sleeping environment mean? Do I need to whisper ASMR or something right next to the Grand Duke when he sleeps?”

“AS… I have no idea what that means.”

The elderly gentleman chuckled softly.

“Young people these days are truly amazing. In my day, it was something unimaginable. I mean making up random words with unknown meanings and slapping them onto just about anything.”

Despite the gentle boomer’s remark, Elliot didn’t budge an inch. Inside his head, only the phrase ‘bedtime attendant’ was bouncing around noisily.

“Pardon me, but the Grand Duke’s age… no, his years… no, his honorable age… what might it be?”

The single sliver of hope that had briefly flashed through Elliot’s mind was that he might have returned to a past era of the original work. Himself, Loran Pedet, and Generwin Tulion were all the same age as in the original work, but in front of a thread of hope, such facts held no power whatsoever.

Could it be that the Grand Duke is currently five or eight years old? That’s why he needs an adult to tuck him in. Yes, maybe I can properly care for the Grand Duke right from his past, and help him be reborn as a sweet romance ML rather than a dark, obsessive tyrant from a dark romance….

“His Excellency the Grand Duke will turn twenty-seven on his upcoming birthday.”

“Ah, yes.”

Scrapped.

As expected, the Grand Duke was a pitch-dark adult male. As Elliot fell into despair, the elderly gentleman said soothingly.

“His Excellency the Grand Duke surely did not summon Elliot-gun in that kind of sense. His Excellency suffers from chronic insomnia. Lately, it has grown even more severe. You can simply view your role as literally helping him sleep.”

“Meow-nyang-nyang.”

Whether Elliot was in despair or not, Camembert showed interest in the elderly gentleman who had appeared in his new territory. The black cat let out an affectionate meow and rubbed its body against the gentleman’s leg. Chuckling kindly, the gentleman removed one of his white gloves and gently stroked Camembert’s head.

Camembert, you….

Making a crying face, Elliot tried making one last protest to the elderly gentleman who was having a delightful time with Camembert.

“But really, Mr. Henderson didn’t say anything at all. It’s my fault for not asking either… but wouldn’t it be invalid if there was no prior notice given from the employer’s side…?”

Are there things like labor boards in this world too? Elliot frantically searched for an escape hatch. However, the elderly gentleman soon uttered words that rendered even those efforts by Elliot useless.

“By the way, Elliot-gun, what do you mean when you say you heard it from Henderson from a moment ago?”

“Ah, Head Butler Henderson, sir.”

“Right, Head Butler Henderson.”

The elderly gentleman said, putting his removed glove back on.

“Henderson is me.”

…Pardon?

∞ ∞ ∞

Did they say that even if you enter a tiger’s den, you’ll survive as long as you keep your wits about you? Then what about the person who enters a tiger’s den, sticks their head right into the tiger’s jaws, and thinks, ‘My, this is so cozy’? Can that person survive just by pulling their wits together belatedly?

With a soul-drained expression, Elliot thumped the edge of a pillow. A refreshing and crisp scent reminiscent of fresh laundry wafted over strongly. Soon, the center of the fluffy pillow rose up plumply, leaving not a single speck of dust or wrinkle to be found, and only then did Elliot align the pillows neatly.

Next, Elliot neatly spread out a red satin fabric embroidered with the Teron family crest at the foot of the marshmallow-giant, ultra-fluffy bed. He didn’t forget to brush through the Darlin gold threads along the edges of the satin once with his fingers to make sure they weren’t tangled.

He replaced the lilies in the bedroom vase with fresh ones, and placed scent sachets—said to aid mental and physical stability—in every corner. He turned off all the lamps emitting bright light and lit several short candles so they would extinguish automatically around dawn. These candles were also made of high-grade beeswax and infused with floral scents, a product said to aid deep sleep.

The ‘real’ Henderson had trained him so thoroughly on creating the Grand Duke’s sleeping environment that Elliot felt like his mouth was tasting dry dust.

Enduring the nausea rising from the room where various scents were dizzyingly mixed, he began preparing tea. It was lavender tea, once again good for deep sleep.

“Gosh… even this smells… does anyone actually fall asleep in a place like this?”

“That is why I hired you.”

A blunt voice cut through the thick fragrance and stabbed inward. Startled, Elliot dropped the tea bag he was holding onto the floor.

Standing right behind Elliot was him.

Fake Henderson.

The protagonist of this novel, Arzen Teron.

“What are you doing?”

Arzen glanced down at Elliot’s feet. Elliot, who had been staring blankly at Arzen, snapped to his senses belatedly and flattened himself facedown onto the floor.

“I-I am sorry.”

Elliot hurriedly scooped up the tea leaves with the edge of his hand. Arzen’s two feet, visible in his field of view, showed no sign of moving. Elliot barely managed to suppress the urge to scream right then and there.

Why did this bastard show up already? Doesn’t he usually come in after I leave? No, more than that….

Elliot stole a glance upward, peeking at Arzen standing before him.

The handsome man with a subtly displeased, expressionless face was wearing a black robe over a white dress-style nightgown that reached all the way to his ankles.

On his head, he wore a drooping nightcap with a pointed tip, and around his neck, he had wrapped something like a plumply stuffed towel. It probably contained warmed grains. Was it like a buckwheat pillow?

…W-what. Why is he taking this so seriously?

Elliot’s jaw dropped.

He’s dead serious about sleep, that guy. No joke.