Inside the city wall, we walked, watching the swarming commuters, as we parted ways with Garlan, who had to report about the mission to the mercenary guild. He had promised to offer us fair pay, and I had naturally accepted without withholding my apparent interest in money.

My lady was running low on cash, too, so we could create some savings by going on adventures like this. She could eat more deserts without having to stare at her family’s faces, and I could have more bread. It was a win-win situation no matter how you looked at it.

The fish of the morning was nowhere in sight, and my lady looked disappointed at having her pet stolen, but she didn’t reprimand the owner. She was learning to control her rage, and this was terrifying progress overnight. I don’t mean to talk bad about my lady, but she’s just that, and I like to serve her the way she is. Obviously, making her into a full-fledged villainess and avoiding the death flag is my ultimate goal.

My lady was wearing trousers underneath the brown robe, so I walked quite close to her, making sure to keep her cowl cover. But alas, when I was staring at the bakeshop, we ran into her sisters and two handsome young men, who were standing on either side of them.

Certainly, some people might point out that it is embarrassing for an adult to be involved in petty fights between young. But, if it had anything to do with my lady, I wouldn’t mind embarrassing myself. Humans might call this fondness, but for me, this was nothing more than enjoying a few fleeting moments of my life before moving on. It was similar to a brief stop at a club or a bar before returning home.

“Letitia?” Arabell’s high-pitched voice forced my attention away from the bakehouse. “What are you doing here? And what’s with that attire?”

I noticed that her cowl had dropped from her head, and my clumsy bun didn’t help improve her attire in the least. Miesie mumbled something in the boy’s ear on her left, and both of them chuckled, casting uncanny glances in my lady’s direction. The boy reached out his hand to the thread dangling from her cowl when I held his arm.

He stared at me in surprise, for servants never looked straight into other noble’s eyes, let alone touch them.

“What the hell are you doing, Rudolf?!” It was the heir of the household who screamed, and I heard a crisp slap resound in the vicinity. The commuters were too scared to stop by and enjoy the commotion between nobles, so they scurried away, leaving only a few nobles as bystanders. I cast [Ward] around us, preventing the words spoken within our enclosure from reaching out.

Even though I wanted my lady to become a villainess, she was still young. So, I didn’t want to tarnish her reputation needlessly until she asked me to.

“I apologize for my rudeness, master,” I released his hand and was about to get down on my knees, but my lady held my arm. “But please abstain from touching my lady. She doesn’t like it.”

Arabell, who was slapped shut, was leaning in her man’s embrace, acting all meek and submissive. The boys before us were my lady’s future brother-in-laws, for the two sisters’ engagements were already set in stone. They weren’t bad boys, but unfortunately, I was a bad undead. And my lady, the villainess.

“Letitia,” the man holding Arabell started, “let’s not quarrel over minor things. Dylan was wrong for trying to touch you, so we apologize for our ignorance. We will become a large family in the future, so let’s maintain appearances in public.”

His short brown hair nuzzled against Arabell, and I saw displeasure flash across her face that failed to manifest in her actions. Dylan appeared apologetic, and he took a voluntary step back.

“Isen, it hurts,” Arabell, who was hardly fifteen, almost purred. If she wanted to sow discord between her betrothed and her sister, she had to do better.

Isen tenderly kissed her cheeks and glanced at us, “Since we are all together today, how about we have lunch, Letitia? It’s my treat.”

I nudged her quietly to accept the offer. A free meal is hard to come by at any age, so I was always eager to pounce on any opportunity. My lady begged to differ, and she would never owe anyone else.

“Look at her attire, Isen!” Miesei chimed in, a horrified shrill escaping her parted lips.

Well, I had forgotten about it.

My lady clicked her tongue and walked straight, the two sisters shying away from her path. I bowed apologetically and hurried after her.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” I honestly felt bad that I had lost my mind over a few pieces of bread.

Letitia didn’t talk to me all the way back, and she was more upset than yesterday. She even grunted coldly whenever I tried to adjust her cowl and pushed my hand away. I trailed behind her, my shoulders slouched, trying to come up with ways to uplift her mood.

Even when we reached the mansion, I didn’t get a response, but when we reached our deserted corridor, she paused at her door. After a while, she turned to me and walked closer to my room.

“My cheek hurts, mongrel!” she said, glaring at me.

“Should I cast a healing magic, my lady?” I asked, wondering if she had eaten too many candies. Should I check her teeth too?

She didn’t reply and waited patiently. I cast [Heal] spell on her cheeks and then on her hand that had touched the bark. She still didn’t move, and when I tilted my head in confusion, she kicked my leg and entered my room, slamming the door shut on my face.

My door didn’t have a lock, for I always used [ward] spell that allowed only my lady and me to enter the room. I stayed at the door for a while before walking over to the kitchen. From the sun’s position, the clock should have hit 14 at least, but I am not sure. I don’t have spells that can manipulate time, so it’s almost impossible for me to keep track of time without using modern scientific equipment.

The problem with this world is not that we can’t make clocks, but that no one wants to make them. What’s the point of a timepiece when they can use hourglasses for timing classes and training sessions and use the sun’s position to determine whether it’s morning or afternoon. Ironically, the people of the Otome world are more punctual than the modern world. Clocks or not.

Habits are hard to quit, if not impossible. I had gotten used to driving a car, or using a computer, that I found it extremely difficult to settle in this world. Every morning, my four-year-old body would wake up and look for my mobile phone on the hard cot and grow impatient over the lack of transport and the etiquette of the servant class. It was surprising that I was able to use transmigration magic after living for more than a few centuries in the modern world.

The kitchen was located in the eastern corridor, right opposite our own, past the enormous entrance of the manor. Most of the maids of the mansion occupied the many rooms spanning around the entire east wing. I walked straight across the passage that opened into a vast space that held the main kitchen.

My eyes roamed around the novel utensils of the world that were destined to be burnt on flames and other designs that served as ovens, which mainly included large holes in the brick walls. My eyes paused at the fireplace that encased burning fire, and the water in the utensil above steamed, the clang of the lid disrupting the eerie silence of the kitchen. Surprisingly, there was no one to tend to the flame, so I walked closer, around the large table, until a red puddle of blood entered my view.

The chefs of the world usually had acute control over the fire attribute, so I was taken aback when I saw the sturdy head chef lying lifeless, in fresh blood that hadn’t stopped flowing. A maid entered the door at the same time, her scream attracting the attention of a few more until eight of them huddled in one corner, watching me with fright.

As a matter of fact, I didn’t have blood on my hands, so how did they even conclude that I had killed him? It was too evident that this was a trap, and when I wanted to rush to my lady, all the maids blocked the exit in unison, their legs shivering at my blood-stained shoes. Ah, I had forgotten how fast blood could flow.

“S-Stop right there!” one of them pointed the broom in their hand at me, and I was debating whether make their nightmare reality and rush to my lady. That’s when I saw her walking toward me, the frightened maids naturally getting cold feet.

“I was wondering where you were, but…” she stopped, sensing the different atmosphere in the room. I bet she wanted to say I was flirting with the maids or something along those lines, but her eyes narrowed when she noticed the girls pointing the scraps in my direction.

“What is going on here?” she bellowed, making her way to the kitchen by pushing aside a couple of maids.