Then, as if Pem and Valeria did not remember the fact that they recited a poem, they walked outside the study room. Pem eerily had a composed face, not bothering to remind the butler of any threats, which she usually should have done.
Valeria then, in a strange way, her eyes did not have that amused glint as she and her personal maid walked away, like she did not remember even doing anything out of the ordinary. The lady then exited the estate calmly.
Back in the study room, Reidward gently closed the door and locked it from the inside, he had this cautious air in him as he did so.
The old butler seemed to be in perfect composure, though, his eyes seem to have a deeper shade of red on the whites of his eyes. He noticed the wet thumb Patrick had, and the signs of his trousers wiping something in it.
"Reidward, what the fuck was that?" Patrick was baffled out of his mind from the four of them just a second ago just reciting a poem out of nowhere. This was not making any coherent sense at all.
"Young Master, I sensed something that was urgent, it was not my intention to make you question my loyalty." Reidward breathed out, then continued, his tone more concerned, "Can this butler ask Young Master Patrick to say what happened inside the study?"
Why would you need that information anyway...
Patrick questioned the butler's logic, though, thinking more about it, he decided it wouldn't hurt to explain what actually happened. This old man was the most trustworthy person Patrick has in this new world. If he was to hide a secret, it should be only his identity of coming from earth, the others can be said, at least for now, in this current situation.
"We were..." Patrick muttered, hesitating despite his resolve. "We were being intimate. We'd just settled the agreement on the plot of land and... things happened."
Reidward paused, studying his young master closely. For the old man, news of the heir to the Bidi Company being on good terms with his fiancée should have been great.
Instead, his expression was grave, noticing his worry seeping out, the old butler restrained himself.
"Therein lies the issue." Reidward said plainly.
"I know, its impulsive of me to put my hands on her." Patrick answered with a slight guilt in his tone. "I was caught up too much in the moment, it didn't support the reputation I have to uphold as a merchant."
"That is not the problem." Reidward interjected politely.
"What?"
"That is not it."
"Thats not it? Then what is it?" Patrick did not understand, the fuck is this butler trying to say then.
Why can't you spit it out then, Patrick thought, he was getting irritated of this indirect manner of speaking.
"..."
Reidward then walked over to a nearby seat and gestured for Patrick to sit down too. Finally in their positions, facing each other, the old butler relaxed his back on the chair.
"You were never supposed to let her catch feelings for you." Reidward said at last.
He spoke it with a gravity that implied there was something massive lomming. A kind of huge revelation and was very serious.
Patrick's brain short circuited, still not understanding it. Himself, he feels very lacking in context, it was like he should have known something. The way Reidward said it implied that he should already have the facts and his answer was very important.
Patrick was irritated and said simply, "I don't get it old man. Give me something to work with."
Reidward sighed, as if realizing that the young master in front of him had amnesia, and that the young master from the past before the coma seems to have not come back yet.
The old butler smiled softly, "Of course, it would be my honor to describe the entire thing to you, Young Master."
"What you just witnessed," Reidward began, "was a manifestation of my 'preservation ability'. It is a unique ability I possess. It allows me to forcefully manipulate a situation to ensure the relative safety of exactly two people: myself and one other."
He leaned forward, the red veins in his eyes pulsing slightly. "The method the ability chooses is... unpredictable. It scans the immediate environment and looks a path, any path at all, to de escalate a threat. Sometimes it results in a sudden distraction; other times, as you saw, it forces everyone in the vicinity into a nonsensical, shared trance.
"The poem was a way to freeze the 'threats' in place without shedding blood. It affects everyone in the general area, rewriting their immediate focus to ensure our survival."
Reidward paused, his gaze locking onto Patrick's. "Long ago, I designated that 'other person' to be you, Patrick. My life and safety are tethered to yours."
Patrick stared at him, a deadpan expression flat on his face. He leaned back, crossing his arms. "Right. So you're telling me you have a 'get out of jail free' card that makes people recite poetry? Reidward, if you didn't want to tell me the truth, you could have just said so. This is some Grade A bullshit."
The butler didn't blink. He expected the skepticism. "I understand how it sounds, Young Master. However, the ability has a very specific trigger. It does not activate when it does not meet some requirements. It only triggers when the ability detects something 'Valuable' in the room."
"Valuable?" Patrick repeated, his irritation giving way to a slight curiosity. "Like the land deed?"
"That is the complication," Reidward replied. "I do not know the exact criteria the ability uses to define 'Value.' It could be a physical object, a specific bloodline, or a soul. But moments ago, the ability identified three 'Valuable' entities in this room: yourself, Lady Valeria, and her maid, Pem."
The old man's face grew even more somber. "The reason you must not let Valeria catch feelings for you is because the ability reacted to her as a threat. The moment your intimacy deepened. If her emotions become a catalyst for something I cannot control, the ability will continue to intervene in increasingly difficult and unpredictable ways just to keep you 'safe' from her."
The skepticism in Patrick's eyes finally began to gradually turn to be more interested. He thought this world was just a simple non magic world.
Up until this moment, Patrick had viewed this world through the lens of someone who thought he was in a standard, late medieval society on the cusp of an industrial revolution.
Damn, so this place has super powers and shi. I need to know more. I might be very talented in this magic.
He looked at his hands, then at Reidward. "You're telling me," Patrick said, his voice now more enthusiastic, "that I'm living in a world where my own butler can lobotomize a room with a poem because a girl likes me too much?"
"No," Reidward bowed his head. "I'm pretty sure I'm the only one who has this ability."
Heh, no way dude, it might be rare cause those people are hiding. I was wondering what kind of genre my journey in this new world was, looks like its supernatural.
Hehehe... Now we're talking. I'm going to have some advantage because I'm a transmigrator, I'm dedinitely sure of it.