17 - An Unexpected Maid

Throughout the day, Octavia kept Valrion company in the kitchen, sitting on the bed across from him. As usual, Valrion would drift in and out of sleep, and Octavia would call for his mother each time he woke. That was the only time she allowed his mother to have the bed to care for him while she moved her work to the dining room. Once his mother was finished, Octavia would return.

After folding the napkins, Octavia spent several hours patching torn clothes and trousers. She dozed off a few times, her head bobbing up and down with her eyes fluttering, but she always managed to shake herself awake and go back to her task.

Sometime in the afternoon, Sergius showed up in the kitchen with a rug. Spreading his arms, he arranged the covering on the rough stone floor between Valrion’s cradle and the bed. His right shoulder was still bandaged, but the way he could move around without a hitch or anyone’s help must have meant that he was feeling much better.

Most definitely, the rug was also made of wool. It was dark blue with white square patterns all over it. Valrion couldn’t understand the purpose of putting something so expensive where people would just step on it—until his mother arrived a few minutes later, picked him up, and laid him on his stomach on the ground.

“Will this really help strengthen his neck and shoulder muscles?” Octavia asked, leaving the bed and kneeling beside Valrion’s mother.

“The midwives say so. All the new mothers are doing it as well,” Valrion’s mother confirmed. She brought Valrion’s elbows in front of his shoulders and pressed her hands around them, keeping him in place. He couldn’t help but lift his head, which felt a tad tiring, but the midwives were right. He could feel his shoulders burn a little.

“Don’t you notice? He’s cried less,” Octavia remarked. “It’s almost as if he’s a completely different baby.”

“Maybe he’s just getting older. Three months is quite a milestone,” Valrion’s mother said with a chuckle. Valrion wondered if they would still speak lightheartedly about him when they knew the actual reason.

The strengthening exercise lasted for about five minutes. Valrion’s mother rolled him back and lightly patted him on his chest as if saying “good job” before returning him to the cradle. For a second, he didn’t know why the whole thing required a rug, but he quickly realized how small the cradle was and how his mother needed space to keep them both comfortable.

In the evening, he woke up after just an hour’s nap—the shortest he had ever had—caused by the scent of roasted beef, garlic, and thyme from the dining room. There was also a hint of earthy sweetness and a blend of spices—cinnamon and nutmeg, among others. It must have been the carrot cake his mother had mentioned earlier.

Before long, just past seven, everyone gathered for dinner while Valrion could only stare at the new firewood stacked in the burning hearth—a fire that had not been lit by him—and the Handbook.

[Level: 3]

[EXP: 10/125]

[Health: 286/286]

[Mana: 11/27]

He would rather conserve all his mana for practicing in the morning, but to gauge how much was needed for one basic skill, it wouldn’t hurt to try. As before, a tiny flame appeared at the edge of the firewood, joining the rest of the blaze.

[Mana: 9/27]

It indeed required two, perhaps three if it happened to be slightly bigger. There was nothing he could do but keep going, so he dismissed the Handbook and closed his eyes again, hoping tomorrow would arrive faster. His family talked about how juicy the venison they were having, and he wasn’t sure which was more disheartening: his lack of mana or his lack of teeth.

After dinner, his mother kissed his right cheek, and his father caressed the other before they left the kitchen. Sergius helped Octavia and Fina carry the dishes to the backyard, presumably to wash them at the well. They came back with baskets of clean tableware and went to the dining room to put everything away. Afterward, they bid each other goodnight, and that was the end of Valrion’s day.

“Hi, Valrion.”

Valrion was startled when Octavia appeared about ten minutes later, wearing a nightgown with her hair loose and a blanket in her arms. He had only seen her hair in a bun, but it turned out she had wavy locks that reached her upper chest.

She flopped onto the bed in front of him and pulled the blanket around herself, leaving him baffled. Given how it had been so far, he had assumed the bed would only be used for someone to sit on while watching over him during the day. After all, who would be brave enough to sleep beside him, knowing the risk of being set in the flame during their slumber?

Valrion would love to know how the choosing process went. He could imagine the family deciding that someone needed to stay with him in case he cried at night. With all her kindness, his mother volunteered to accompany him but was soon intervened by the others. Octavia must have been willing to step in, though she might have lost a bet to Sergius and Fina.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Good night. I trust you won’t hurt me, but I’m prepared for anything,” Octavia said, facing him with her eyes closed. It took her less than a minute to fall asleep.

Days passed by normally like that.

None of his quests or numbers had changed, but he never gave up on his training.

He adhered to his routine: waking up, being cared for by his mother, and spending the early morning hours casting fire into the hearth. Afterward, he would take several naps, watching his mana slowly increase. His mother would do the muscle-strengthening exercises at least twice a day.

As the sun set, he would rest deeply once more with Octavia by his side. He would wake several times, at which point Octavia would bring him to his mother before returning him to his cradle. With the arrival of the new dawn, the cycle would begin again.

The following Sunday, Valrion’s father suddenly appeared in the kitchen, having come from the house’s main area, just as Octavia was nestled under her blanket. Gasping, the maid kicked off the blanket, stood up, and combed her hair with her fingers as she looked at the man in the doorway.

“Sir, what’s the matter?” she asked.

“The mission,” Valrion’s father began, not wasting any second. “Are you still interested in it?”

Her face immediately became composed, as if she had never been flustered in the first place. “Yes.”

“All right,” he noted. “If the plan goes smoothly, you’ll leave in three days. Yes?”

“I understand, Sir.”

He paused, sighing. “Are you sure about this? It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen. We might accidentally cross paths with the Empire. No one can guarantee your safety.”

The Empire? Valrion thought. It must be different from the Kingdom of Luxellum, or else his father misspoke. More intriguingly, what kind of mission would require someone like Octavia? Would she be there to treat the wounded?

“I’ll take the risk, Sir,” Octavia insisted. “I’ve never been so close to their soldiers, so I want to verify the rumors myself.”

With that, Valrion was sure his father didn’t have a slip of the tongue. Octavia wouldn’t have said “their soldiers” if they were talking about their own kingdom, but why would she even get involved in the first place?

“What rumors?” Valrion’s father proceeded.

“That they’re stronger than us,” Octavia replied.

“I see.” The man took a deeper breath. “Those aren’t just rumors. You should already know that. That’s why I’m concerned about you.”

She fell silent before chewing her bottom lip. “Sir, I know what I can and can’t do. I know my limits.”

“I know it too.” He tilted his head sideways as if not understanding her message. “That’s why I’m concerned about your survival. If we had someone else, we wouldn’t ask you.”

“Oh.” Octavia’s voice was soft, almost inaudible. “Forgive me for that, Sir.”

“All right. Think it over again. Let Fina or Sergius stay with Valrion on your behalf,” Valrion’s father stated one last time before turning and walking away.

As soon as the head of the family exited the kitchen, Valrion saw the sourness on Octavia’s face, and it terrified him a little. She gritted her teeth and scrunched up her nose. Her eyes were wide, bearing an expression like she had never hated anyone more than she hated his father. If she had the chance, she could strangle and murder him on the spot.

He had never imagined she could make such a look, but he sympathized with both sides. His father was right to be worried, but his mother wasn’t wrong when she said his father needed to learn to speak more kindly. Even he would be insulted if someone came over just to say they weren’t sure about his abilities and saw him as nothing more than a backup plan.

Quietly, Octavia went in the direction his father had taken. The shock Valrion had felt earlier was nothing compared to what he was experiencing now: Octavia returned, carrying a longbow in one hand and a quiver filled with arrows in the other. Her gaze was downcast as if she was possessed by an evil force, and she headed toward the dining room, disappearing from his view.

Before Valrion could speculate on what she intended to do, an arrow flew past, striking the firewood in the hearth. The fire spread to the arrow in an instant, leaving him with his mouth agape.

“How dare he say that!” Octavia shouted as another arrow followed, embedding itself right next to the first. “Who does he think he is?! Just because he’s one of our benefactors?!”

Curses poured out of her as six more arrows were shot at the hearth. I’m not as weak as he thinks! He hasn’t seen what I can do! He’s the coward! He’s never been to a real battlefield! I can blast him to a crisp! Each time, she struck an untouched spot. Valrion knew it wasn’t because she missed—she deliberately avoided targeting the same place twice.

Then, there was a minute of solitude.

Valrion thought Octavia was cleaning up and preparing for bed, but instead, she stepped out of the dining room with the bow and an arrow, halting in the middle of the wool rug. Swiftly, she raised the weapon—her torso slightly rotating to align with it in her left hand, while her right hand nocked the arrow and drew the string back toward her face.

She stood with her feet shoulder-width apart, her knees straight but relaxed for stability. Her eyes focused on the hearth before she released the arrow, piercing one already lodged in the firewood and splitting it in two, burning them all together. The distance was short, but the precision was still remarkable.

Even with just a glance at her posture, Valrion knew she wasn’t an amateur. She had done this a million times before.

[Personal Quest updated: The First Attendant]

[EXP +10]

[The First Attendant

➤ Octavia isn’t an ordinary maid. Your father offered her a mission that appears to be tied to the Liberators and an empire. She quickly demonstrated her skill with a bow, proving she is much more than she seems.]

This was the first time Valrion’s personal quest had been updated, but he didn’t know how to feel about it. When he looked at Octavia, she met his gaze. She had lowered her weapon and flashed her usual sweet smile, but he could no longer see her the same way.