6 - A Questionable Maid

Extreme reactions seemed to follow every time Valrion couldn’t express his disgruntlement freely, so he squeezed his eyes shut and reminded himself that he was a newborn in a mortal world. Someone changing his clothes was to be expected. He had observed humans long enough to understand that more embarrassing situations would arise, so he couldn’t afford to overreact whenever he faced the slightest discomfort.

Get used to it. You’re lucky you’re not thrown naked in front of a dungeon full of monsters during the coldest winter season, he assured himself. This was one technique his real mother taught him and his sister whenever they complained about something as trivial as creating a human snack that didn’t taste anything like the original.

“Aren’t you lucky you were born a god, not one of the demons?”

Their mother’s intention was to help them see the good things in life. Although it was always annoying to hear at first, he and his sister would eventually sulk for a while, then move on. Later on, a moment of introspection would hit them, and they would realize how foolish they had been.

It worked most of the time. Just like now, he managed to control his breathing and calm himself down.

“What’s the matter, Valrion? Why are you squirming like that? Are you hurt somewhere?” the woman asked. She lightly pressed various parts of his body using her two fingers, but just for less than a minute. Since he didn’t react to the touch, she must have realized that he wasn’t in any physical pain.

Right after, she pulled away, and he heard her dip and squeeze something into the water, followed by the soft drip of liquid. He glanced down between his tiny, spread legs to see a cloth in her hands and a basin beneath him.

When she returned to his side, she pressed the warm cloth against his forehead and gently swept it across. Aside from eating, this was another pleasant experience he had encountered in this world, so he allowed her to continue wiping the rest of his face.

After she cleaned his eyes, he could see the woman clearly. Her hair, a shade darker than his mother’s, was pinned into a sleek bun, and her skin tone was slightly deeper. Her smile revealed round cheeks that made her face seem more vibrant. She wore a plain, long dark green dress—only different in color from the the one his mother had worn—but the most obvious sign of her identity was the white apron tied around her waist.

Unless having maids was the norm, his new family must be fairly well-to-do. As far as he could tell, that seemed to be the case since his last memory before this life appeared to align with the reality he was experiencing. The house he was in—supposedly this house—was definitely more grand than the others in the area, and that required wealth.

“You’re so well-behaved today. What a smart child,” the woman gushed, applying oil from his neck to his legs after she was done wiping. Its lavender scent was so pungent that it remained just as strong even after she dressed him in a fresh tunic.

She didn’t say anything more as she returned him to the cradle and left him alone for the first time. Surrounded by the slats, he could barely make out her figure as she carried the basin and walked past him. It was safe to assume she was heading outside with his used clothes and the rest of the dirty items.

Being free like this, he could finally continue with his mission. Spells didn’t work outright, but that didn’t mean he would give up experimenting with the elements themselves. This time, he chose a non-offensive element: order.

The imagination began with the petrification of the maid from earlier, just as she walked back into the room. She would be mortified, unable to scream since he had silenced her as well. The spell would last a full minute before she collapsed to her knees, trembling and confused.

He couldn’t entertain such an idea and snickered instead, opening his eyes after just a few seconds. First, he didn’t actually have the heart to do something like that to an innocent maid. Second, order was one of the rarest elements to possess, and what had crossed his mind would require a medium-level expertise. Given how things had gone so far, he was unlikely to receive something so powerful.

What about wind? He could try summoning a breeze to ruffle the curtain around the bedposts.

“I’m sorry for leaving you behind, Valrion!” the woman from before suddenly exclaimed, and he wished goodbye to his super short alone time.

Within seconds, her face hovered above him. He looked into her eyes, causing her to giggle when nothing was hilarious about the situation.

One ridiculous human trait was they quickly became deeply attached to the most frivolous matters. Most would laugh at acts they deemed “funny” or “adorable”, even if they had seen something similar before. They would cry when insulted, behaving like the whole world was against them despite knowing they would eventually survive. They blushed at random compliments and overanalyzed others’ opinions, mindlessly giving people the power to judge them.

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Having witnessed it all before, he had never cared much about their antics, but strangely enough, he enjoyed seeing the woman’s reaction. He raised his hand, making her clasp it and softly squeeze his fingers. When he squeezed her in return, she widened her eyes and flashed the widest grin anyone had ever shown him.

“You’re so cute!” she said.

And you’re one silly mortal, he thought. He was certain his displeasure was shown on his face, but she ended up squealing with excitement. It started to feel too much being stared at incessantly, so he decided to stop indulging her by glancing aside. That didn’t deter her from proceeding to poke his nose, trace his cheeks, and comb her fingers through his hair.

He thought he was bald, but he knew some newborns could already grow full heads of hair in their early months. He wondered what color his hair would be. Unfortunately, he hadn’t gotten a good look at his father.

The woman suddenly grasped his hands and lifted them. As she sang a joyful melody, she turned one hand upward while the other fell, alternating the movements in synchronization with the music. She bounced her body and shoulders with each shift as if they were dancing together.

If this were Heaven, she would have been reprimanded by all the guards and ordered to stay at least twenty meters away from him. Raising her voice so loudly and touching him so unnecessarily—except for his parents and younger sister, no one dared to do this, not when he was a newborn, and certainly not when he was fully grown.

Though there was no written rule forbidding it, the other gods unanimously agreed on one thing: the King of Heaven’s family deserved the utmost respect.

His real mother enjoyed spending time with the other female gods, always carrying him with her when he was too young to be on his own. They would wander through gardens of golden statues and floating feathers, lakes of honey milk and spring water, or visit neighboring abodes. She would include him in her close-knit gatherings, but the other gods would watch him from a distance, silently acknowledging their status differences.

When hanging out with his friends, they would feel remorseful if they accidentally bumped into him and immediately apologize. Even during public celebrations like the birth of a new god, where he could dance with anyone he wanted, his younger sister would be the only one bold enough to tug at his robe, but even she would never dare to do more.

He had become so accustomed to such treatment that he wasn’t sure how to feel about this mortal woman. It wouldn’t be just her—from now on, more and more people would treat him the same way. He wasn’t thrilled by the idea, but he didn’t loathe it either. If anything, it seemed to stir something within him that he had never felt before.

At one point, the woman grazed his lips, and he took the opportunity to bite her forefinger. Instead of being startled, she playfully remarked, “Ouch.” Then she gasped as if remembering something before leaving his side. A few seconds later, she returned, carrying a white cloth with knotted ends. She handed it to him, and he stared at it, dumbfounded.

“What’s the matter, Valrion?” She looked surprised. “Did you forget? You like to suck on it.”

His brows furrowed. Did he hear it right? Did she imply that he enjoyed biting down on a cloth that, no matter how often it had been washed, would still have traces of dirt on it? If this was common in Eru, then he probably forgot it on purpose.

Of course, his distress turned into weak whimpers instead of curses. It was the wrong move because the moment he opened his mouth, she slid the knotted end inside.

Disgusting, was his first reaction, but his second was to cease protesting and chew on the cloth. The feeling reminded him of when his mortal mother fed him, which would always be humiliating to recall, but the comparison came naturally. He wriggled his arms, trying to resist the soothing comfort. As always, he lost control of his own body.

“Aww, poor baby, you look hungry,” the woman announced after placing her hand on his stomach. She must have felt the growling. “Your mother’s still busy with something, so please wait a little longer, all right? Octavia is here with you.”

So, Octavia was her name. She must have been born in the tenth month—unless her parents had chosen the name randomly. He wondered if it was also them who had taught her to give a cloth to a baby as a toy rather than something else, whatever that would be in this era.

[Personal Quest unlocked: The First Attendant]

He should have gotten used to an image box revealing itself without warning, but it still startled him each time. It was another personal question, so he looked for the exclamation mark in the Handbook.

[The First Attendant

➤ You have taken a liking to Octavia, the first housekeeper you have met in your family. You want to learn more about her background, perhaps her family.]

The funniest part was that he wouldn’t describe what he felt toward Octavia as “liking”. In fact, he had criticized everything about her, even complaining that it wasn’t his mother who was tending to him.

Also, why didn’t he have any personal quests about his parents? Of all the people in this new life, he should have been the most curious about his bloodline.

He glared at the woman who was now slightly leaning forward, resting one arm on the slat of the cradle. She no longer looked at him but was gazing to her left, somewhere around the room’s entrance. The sunlight passing by from the window behind the cradle brightened her face.

She looked tired after a while, but he might have felt the same if he had been a newborn sitter. Her main job at this moment was to accompany him, a being who couldn’t do anything other than stay alive. She could have spent time dusting the room, but for all he knew, she might have already done that before he woke up.

“Octavia, come quick!”

Suddenly, an older-voiced woman burst into the room and shouted, causing Octavia to jerk upright.

“Come on!” the woman added, apparently not allowing any response. “Sergius’s about to kick the man out!”

Octavia raised her brows before chuckling. The announcement sounded urgent, but she seemed more amused than anything.