Seeing his smile, the blush on Hazel's face only deepened, and she could only offer a small nod in response. Observing her bashful reaction, a thought popped into his head.
Oh yeah. Definitely a fuck boy.
He stood up and went over to the bed, where Miria had already selected his outfit. It wasn't much, to be honest, consisting only of a white button-down shirt and a black waistcoat that complemented his trousers. Still, it made him look dashing.
He looks like a noble.
That was the thought that passed through the minds of the two maids when they looked at him—and they were correct. His current appearance, even though his clothes were plain and without embellishments, gave him an air of nobility.
Done with their jobs, the two maids were about to leave when Gareth suddenly stopped them. What else did he want? Or perhaps there was something they missed? No—they hadn't missed anything.
As their minds raced to figure out the reason, his next words surprised them greatly.
"Thank you both for everything you've done for me," he said, flashing that signature smile.
They were initially confused, but quickly understood the reason behind his thanks. After all, they had been the ones to feed him when he was about to die, and they had also just given him a complete makeover. To a kid born in slavery, their actions might have seemed like an immense favor.
They knew, however, that they were only following the Countess's orders.
Still, something about seeing him smile gave them a sense of joy.
"There is no need to thank us. We were simply following orders," Miria said, though a small smile adorned her lips.
"You should get some rest, in case the Countess calls for you soon," Hazel added in a softer tone.
With that, the two maids left his room, finally giving him privacy.
As soon as the door clicked shut, his smile twisted into something far more sinister, making him resemble a typical fantasy villain.
His words to the maids hadn't come from genuine gratitude. In this unfamiliar place, where he had no power, the only way to survive was through connections. Hopefully, he had left a favorable impression on the two maids. Even if things didn't go well, they might at least be able to guarantee him a meal.
He stood up and looked himself over once more. Satisfied, he lay down on the bed to get some rest. The whole day had been hectic, and despite the lingering adrenaline, he needed to recover to remain in optimal condition.
About an hour later, a sharp knock on the door jolted him awake from his drowsy state. A few minutes more, and he would have been in deep sleep.
He scrambled off the bed, quickly smoothed out his clothes, and rushed to open the door.
Standing before him was the head maid, flanked by two unfamiliar maids. She inspected him from head to toe, and though her eyes remained cold, there was a hint of surprise and approval within them—something Gareth didn't fail to notice.
"The Countess requests your presence," she said in the same detached tone as before.
Though phrased as a request, Gareth knew refusal was not an option.
Not that he wanted to refuse.
It was finally time to meet the elusive Countess. His blood pumped with both excitement and apprehension at the thought of facing this woman.
Without waiting for his response, the head maid turned on her heels and began walking away. Gareth hurried after her.
Would it kill her to wait for an answer? he thought inwardly.
Despite being middle-aged, her pace was fast, forcing Gareth to focus just to avoid being left behind.
They made their way up to the third floor, where the Countess herself resided. As they passed through the manor, Gareth committed every detail he saw to memory. It might prove useful later.
After another minute of walking, they arrived before a sealed door. The head maid knocked twice and waited.
"Come in~"
The voice from within granted them entry.
The head maid opened the door gently, and soon all four stepped into what appeared to be an office.
The first thing Gareth noticed was the scent.
Sweet. Heavy. Intoxicating.
The air itself seemed perfumed—like crushed petals mixed with wine. Then came the sound of a soft hum, delicate yet clear, like glass being lightly struck.
The Countess reclined lazily on a chair near the window, sunlight spilling over her like a halo. Her hair, the color of ink, cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders. Her pale skin was flawless, almost unnaturally perfect, as if sculpted by divine hands.
And her eyes—
Deep brown. Sharp. Alive.
They studied him like a cat watching its prey.
She wasn't what he expected.
Rumors had painted her as a debauched predator of men. What he saw instead was something far more dangerous. There was power in her presence, yes—but also grace, poise, and a quiet charm that made it impossible to look away.
And her proportions.
Gaaawwd, her proportions.
In one word, she was beautiful. No—too beautiful. She was by far the most beautiful woman he had seen in both of his lives. Internally, he celebrated.
YES. YES. YES!
If it was his fate to end up as the sex slave of such a baddie, then he would embrace it wholeheartedly.
Unfortunately, he didn't have the luxury to think further.
They stopped before the Countess, and the head maid bowed.
"My Lady, I've brought him," she said, her usual cold demeanor replaced by one of clear respect.
Not wanting to risk disrespect, Gareth tore his gaze away and lowered it to the floor.
"Hm. You can go," the Countess said lightly, waving away the maids.
They withdrew at once, leaving Gareth alone with her.
Throughout the entire exchange, the Countess's gaze never once left him.
Under the intense gaze of the Countess, Gareth, who was a usually confident man, couldn't help but feel a little nervous. It wasn't the nervousness that came from being in front of a woman. No, he had far too much experience to be feeling that.