“Master, why do you keep training everyday?”

Arthur took the towel from her hands and wiped off his sweaty and numb hands, once he was done and rejuvenated his dry throat with a cold lemon juice, he answered her,

"I was granted a magical ability. The bare minimum is to properly learn it in case of an emergency. For instance, if I were to be attacked while my dear maid is not there to protect me.”

“Master, please do not joke around. I’m a maid, not a fighter. I will try to protect you but I think you should hire proper guards or knights.”

Arthur laughed at her response, his gaze shifting to the spot in which the Demon Lady previously appeared.

“Even now, you still try to deny it? I saw you wield those blades and move with a speed faster than common Knights.”

Evelyn turned her head to the side, keeping a brief silence before speaking with a quieter voice.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Master. It is not uncommon for lonely middle-aged men to start hallucinating.”

“I have to commend your humor, Evelyn. Then again, how can I be lonely when my maid is at my side from dawn to dusk?”

Evelyn warily backed away, her brow furrowed. “Master, although it is understandable that the lack of contact with the opposite sex might affect your mental, I have to remind you that I am your maid. I dare not try to satisfy your sexual urges.”

“Is that so?” Arthur sized the maid up and down in a lecherous way then added, “You’re not half-bad. I doubt not that many nobles would hire you for their needs. It’s a compliment, by the way.”

“I’d rather not be subjected to such a disgusting gaze, Master. Please refrain from making remarks like that.”

“Weird… you don’t like praise? Do you swing the other way, perhaps?”

“...”

“Hahaha I jest I jest. I could’ve sworn you would’ve taken out those sharp blades of yours and cut me down if I had added another misplaced word.”

Evelyn snorted and followed right after with a light bow, “I shall leave you for a bit, Master.”

“Wait.”

The maid didn't even take a single step before he stopped her. As she looked back at him with her usual cold and inquisitive expression, Arthur pointed at the seat across him.

“While I rest, why not entertain ourselves with a deep discussion. My senses tell me you enjoyed our last.”

“...”

“Not up to it? What a pi-”

“If it’s Master’s will then I will not object.”

While saying that, she immediately sat down, her eyes ever-fixated on him.

“Well, since you seem too eager, why not offer a topic to discuss or debate?”

“Very well. What are your plans? Why are you selling everything?”

“Woah! Easy now. I said a topic, not a barrage of questions you’ve asked already.”

“...”

Arthur emptied the cold glass of lemon juice, cleared his throat and patiently waited for her to try again.

However, even after one minute of silence, Evelyn did not speak again. She seemed adamant on having her questions answered.

“You’re really stubborn, you know? It’s unbefitting for a lady. Still, I can agree to answer one of these questions if you also agree to answer one of mine.”

“Master, I will not answer anything regarding myself or my past.”

Arthur clicked his tongue and shook his head, sounding disheartened, “Small reminder: We’re here as equals, there’s no need for titles and pretense. And, I will not inquire about your past.”

The maid appeared relieved as she heard his words. When he motioned for her to begin, she instantly said,

“Why are you selling everything?”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

“Out of all the questions, you choose this one? Hahaha. Very well. I am selling everything to get as much gold as I possibly could. There’s literally nothing more to it.”

“Why do you want-no… why do you need more gold?”

“That… is another question. It’s my turn now.” Arthur rubbed his hands and pondered for a couple of breaths while the maid clenched her hidden fists, seemingly annoyed.

“Do you have any aspirations? Dreams?”

“I said I will not answ-”

“I agreed not to ask about your past. Why are you so disinclined to even answer that? I have shown my sincerity and indulged your curiosity. We sit here, face to face, not to bicker or deceive, but to speak freely and without fear of being judged or mocked. Am I wrong? Or was I the only one who saw it as such?”

Evelyn looked a bit conflicted, but, eventually, she said, “I have no aspirations or dreams.”

“Nothing at all? Not even one? That sounds hard to believe.”

“One does not necessarily have to have ambitions. I am perfectly content with what I have.”

“Forgive me, Evelyn, but I think you’re lying. While I do admit that being a maid is better than working in a whorehouse or being a slave, it is still not a desirable occupation due to the myriad tragedies that could happen. Nevertheless, to confidently say- and I quote- perfectly content, is nothing short of complete and utter bullshit.”

“...”

As she did not speak, Arthur saw no need to stop talking, “A maid could be beaten, used as a sexual toy, or even tortured. If she sees something that she should not, it is not strange to get killed and dumped into the ocean or buried beneath the feces of animals. Furthermore, your unabated curiosity evidently declares your intent. Were you really content, you would not behave the way you do.”

“You are misunderstanding.”

“And you are blatantly lying. You say you have no aspirations but if that’s the case then where’s the content coming from? Do you not desire to continue working here in peace? Yes, I dare say you want that. And that, is also an aspiration, albeit a small and fleeting one. The fact that you are worried about the liquidation of my belongings contradicts your words. Surely, despite this brief period of content, you want to do something later on. I refuse to believe that a woman of many mysteries like you has nothing on her mind. No goal in mind, no dreams to chase after, no aspiration to achieve.”

“My…” She uttered a word then stopped thinking about her answer, “My only dream is to survive in this hellish world. I want to live the way I want and, as it happens, my current life leaves me happy.”

“Happy? A curious thing for a maid to say. A maid I’ve never seen smile nor do anything for herself. Tell me, what lies behind that mask of yours?”

“It’s my turn now.” Asserted the tone as she slightly raised her voice and straightened her posture.

“Very well. Go on…”

This time, she did not ask right away but took her sweet time in choosing the right question.

“Who or what are you?”

Surprisingly, upon hearing that, Arthur frowned, his expression turning serious, which is highly uncommon. Even Evelyn did not expect such a reaction.

“That’s a question with many layers, Evelyn. I will dodge it and provide you with another answer. For example, I can tell you what I intend to do with the Gold.”

Seeing him evade the question, Evelyn did not insist and merely listened.

“The gold will be distributed to the servants of this estate. You included, of course. Each will be provided with enough sum to will last them for a couple of years, at the very least.”

“Is it because you’re going to leave?”

“Again, that’s another question… one which- I believe- I have answered and will do so again. No, I, Leonis Sanguis, will remain here till the day I die.”

“Then you’re going to fire us?”

“How is giving money synonymous to firing people? Don’t let your mind wander off, Evelyn. My turn: Why do you think we exist? Not just Humans, but every species.”

Evelyn’s frown deepened as she tilted her head and replied, “I'm not a Philosopher. Such questions are beyond my comprehension.”

“I’m not expecting an explicit or satisfactory answer. Just tell me what you think, that’s it.”

The maid lowered her head and thought for a very long time, yet even when she opened her mouth to give the answer she thought was right, she seemed hesitant and unsure.

“I don’t know. We exist because… we exist, that’s all I believe. I can’t give you a reason for us to exist or live.”

“Alright.”

Arthur nodded his head, a faint smile on his face, though that only increased the maid’s confusion.

“... that’s it?”

“Yes. To begin with, a discussion about existentialism is often riddled with different and contradictory answers, some tied to belief and religions, and others based on one’s past. Trying to find an accurate answer is a ridiculous notion… folly, I would call it.”

“Then why did you ask me that?”

“They say that honesty comes in many forms, and that a gesture, however subtle, speaks louder than a million words. The way I saw it, your true answer lies not in your words but in your eyes, your well-controlled yet ultimately imperfect fake demeanor, which had failed you for a couple of seconds.”

“...”

“You are truly an enigma, Evelyn. Slowly, things will come out through the holes of your forced façade. Why? Because I saw more than one thing in your eyes and gestures. I saw sadness, loss, anger, frustration, resentment… and a glimmer of hope.”

“I’m sorry to say you are wrong. You are just saying stuff to make me talk about my past.”

Evelyn seemed composed, unperturbed by his words. Be that as it may, Arthur did not seem to mind as if he expected such a reaction and response.

“Content, huh? When you don’t even know why you exist, or why you’re living this life. Then again, back in that torture room… I was like that too. It is an inescapable self-made prison.”

These last words weren’t directed at her but at himself, uttered with an inaudible voice akin to whispering.