Chapter 4

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I dipped into the white marble bathtub full to the brim with sloshing water. The bathroom was far bigger than any other room I had seen.

A bathroom larger than a parlor? Unbelievable!

“The maids will arrive shortly to assist you with your ablutions. Please soak in the warm water in the meantime,” the butler said quietly from beside the bathroom door.

I felt a little embarrassed but, of course, I had disrobed only after pulling the curtains around the tub closed.

“Once you’ve finished bathing, exit through the blue door on the right.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then, if you’ll excuse me…”

“Wait, Mr. Butler!” I called out unthinkingly. I couldn’t see him, but I sensed him pause beside the slightly ajar door.

“My name is Sion,” he stated.

“Right, Mr. Sion.”

“You don’t need to append the title, my lady.”

I poked my head out from between the curtains. “May I ask you a question?”

“I believe the most appropriate time to ask would be after you’ve had your bath,” Sion responded bluntly.

“It’ll be quick!” I waffled for a moment, then said, “His Grace asked me to be his adopted daughter. Do you happen to know what that means?”

“That means you will now be a lady of the house, a young mistress whom I must serve.”

“Yes, but why would he take in an orphan like me? I understand the concept of luck, but… This luck is so mind-boggling that it scarcely seems real.” I paused and gripped the bathtub’s edge, anxious. “What am I supposed to do from now on?”

The bathroom was silent for a time before Sion said, “You haven’t been officially adopted, which means you are not yet my mistress.”

“Right…”

“So, just this once, I will be honest with you and offer an adult’s perspective. The adoption of daughters by aristocrats is uncommon, but not unheard of. It’s often a form of charity work—taking in orphans, educating them, and raising them in order to nurture any remarkable talents.”

Oh. Charity work. That’s what this is.

“And since Master Jade is an only child, you could very well be his playmate. Sometimes a family with only one child will choose to adopt a companion for them.”

I listened to Sion intently, holding my breath. That means I’ll have to impress Master Jade, too. Will he kick me out if he hates me?

“His Grace isn’t really fond of people. He doesn’t shower goodwill on just anyone.”

This was something I already knew. After all, His Grace was the novel’s eccentric duke and dark hero.

“But if you grow up to be a respectable member of this noble family and an honorable lady, everyone will praise House Lewelton for their mercy.”

“I see…”

In other words, becoming an honorable lady is repaying His Grace’s compassion. This is excellent. I can get an education while also partaking in delectable meals. I’m grateful, even if it’s merely charity on their end.

“Thank you, Mr. Butler. I won’t forget what you’ve taught me,” I vowed softly. Water sloshed around as I sank back down into the tub.

“Please forgive my momentary impudence,” Sion said. “From now on, I shall properly serve you as a lady of the house.”

“Yes, thank you.”

“And before I forget, your most important responsibility is to live a peaceful life and grow up healthy.”

I remembered the butler’s dapper appearance and imagined him bowing on the other side of the curtain. The bathroom door then snicked quietly shut.

Such warm water… I grimaced as I stared down at my body, and the miles of skin to be cleaned.

Just how long will it take to scrub myself entirely? I examined my filthy fingertips and the dirt beneath my nails.

Will I… be all right? House Lewelton was home to three handsome men: Kallen, the cold-blooded duke, Jade, the son who resembled his father’s looks to a tee, and Sion, the butler who would do anything his master ordered. These were the three main characters in The Life of Duke Lewelton.

The protagonist, of course, was Kallen, the black-haired, red-eyed duke descended from an unusual bloodline.

But that’s not all. I hugged my knees and pondered my current situation.

Live peacefully and grow up healthy… Can I do that? I must, especially because the man who will adopt me is… a murderer. A serial killer who has already slain 107 people. Kallen was a dark magician—a supreme dark magician, to be precise. He was cursed, requiring such bloodshed for his very survival.

A supreme dark magician whose life is sustained by extracting mana from human bodies, eh? And the more mana he absorbed, the stronger he became. This was known as a “mana absorption condition.” If I recall correctly, Kallen was the first supreme dark magician to be born in five hundred years. This was the sum total of all I knew about him.

I guess I never finished reading the novel. The memories of my past life were tangled and impossible to follow, as if they had been sliced with scissors in spots.

I know one thing for certain: I used to adore reading. The majority of my memories began in a white hospital room, where I spent my days reading my favorite novels and watching television. I enjoyed mysteries, as well as unsettling horror stories about murders, such as this one.

Because I was weak back then. From what I could faintly remember, The Life of Duke Lewelton was the final book I had read before dying, and I’d been absorbed by it completely, burying my nose in the pages at every opportunity.

I think I admired the frighteningly graceful and powerful Lewelton family, longing for the strength they possessed but that my own frail body lacked. I felt as if I was now the possession of some wild beast, or living in the mouth of a serpent whose markings signaled a venomous species.

However, while Kallen is intimidating, he probably isn’t dangerous. Besides, he’s on the side of justice. He’s almost a hero. His Grace was no common murderer. After learning of his affliction, his family had determined to mold him into a weapon. They even worked with the royal family, and Kallen grew into the sort of killer who pursued and punished only criminals.

That’s what makes him a hero of justice. Twisted, yes, but a hero nonetheless. A villain who kills villains, a serial killer who executes serial killers, and the royal family’s one-man special forces unit. That was Kallen de Lewelton.

I now understand more about this universe. Killers, the sort of people who were Kallen’s prey, roamed the streets without a care in the world.

If I had stayed in that back alley, I would’ve had a tough time surviving. No matter how I thought about it, even the adopted daughter of a murderous duke, surrounded by blood-stained hands, had a better chance of survival than a street beggar.

I flinched as someone knocked on the bathroom door. Who could that be?

“Pardon the intrusion, my lady.”

When the door opened, a line of maids filed inside.

“My apologies. Have we startled you?”

I shook my head quietly, the rest of my body hidden beneath the water. I looked at the basket they were carrying with wonder. I never knew there could be so many bathing accouterments: brushes of various sizes, and soaps of various colors and scents.

“Please let us know if anything hurts, my lady.”

I responded with a wide-eyed stare and a nod. They scrubbed and scoured, sloughing off the layer of grime from my skin. Then they lathered my hair before rinsing it until my scalp felt rubbed raw. Before I knew it, I had emerged smelling like a flower garden’s worth of scented soaps.

I shifted my weight in shame as I peered at the murky, filthy water. “I’m sorry…” I whispered.

“Worry not. Water can always be drained, and new baths can always be drawn,” a maid replied. “You can stand up now.”

The maids swaddled me in a thick, downy linen.

Is it okay to wipe my body with such a soft fabric? I rubbed the linen’s edge delicately between my fingertips with guilt. As I looked around, I noticed that sweat trickled down the foreheads of each of the maids. I, too, felt absolutely drained.

The maids then helped me dress, exclaiming, “Thank goodness we found Lady Marianne’s old gowns in the attic. Otherwise, you’d have had to borrow the young master’s clothes.”

I glanced down at the fluffy dress adorned with white frills.

Wow, it’s so soft. It looks like something an angel would wear. After that, the ladies used towels to carefully dry my hair before combing it through. They then gently massaged oil into my hands and feet before trimming my fingernails and toenails.

“Look, my lady. Your hands look lovely now that we’ve cleaned up your nails. And because you’re still young, your skin is quite soft.”

The maids grinned as if they were proud of their work.

“You’ve emerged as an entirely new person from when you arrived,” another maid added. “A gorgeous young lady.”

I stood in front of the mirror.

Me? Gorgeous? I couldn’t take my eyes off my reflection.

Was my hair always so pink? Was my face always this unblemished? Even my emerald eyes had a new gleam to them.

“It’s time to go to the great hall, my lady,” the oldest-looking maid said warmly. “Dinner should be ready. Please go and eat to your heart’s content.”

When I heard the word “dinner,” I finally came to my senses and turned away from the mirror. I went through the powder room, which was attached to the bathroom, and opened the blue door.

There was a modest dining hall on the other side. The walls were adorned with silky wallpaper, elaborate floral paintings, and portraits of women in dresses. But the moment I laid my eyes upon the dinner table, all other thoughts faded away.

Oh my goodness. I gulped. Is that fruit pie? And meat?! Orange pie, strawberry pie, steak, baked honey-glazed chicken, steaming hot soup, five varieties of bread, salads of fruit and vegetables, and colorful puddings. I drooled over the heaps of food before me.

I glanced around the room before clambering up onto one of the high-set chairs. My feet dangled, kicking back and forth in delight.

I-I can’t wait to stuff my face. I hadn’t eaten much in the past few days since I’d been plagued by anxiety.

I clutched my hungry stomach and impatiently awaited the others’ arrival. Ten minutes passed, then twenty. I waited for a long time, but no one came.

Having a small bite won’t hurt, will it? For someone like me, who grew up sustained only by dry bread and food scraps from the streets, the urge to glut myself on the sumptuous dinner setting was far more tempting than any other sin. I reached for the warm bread in front of me and took a bite.

It’s delicious… In my past life, I’d been so sick that I’d lost my appetite before finally dying. The only food I’d been able to stomach was porridge.

I don’t even remember having food this good in my past life. How can I resist this feast? The fluffy bread slowly melted in my mouth. The meat was so tender that I could have chewed it with my gums. The strawberry pie was overwhelmingly sweet, but the rich sweetness was like an addictive drug.

I gobbled down bite after bite, a drumstick clutched in one hand and the other curled around a slice of strawberry pie. I moaned as a teardrop ran down my cheek. For the first time in my life, I realized that the taste of food could be enough to bring someone to tears.

I was too preoccupied with weeping with joy to notice through my blurred vision that I was being watched.

Huh…?

It was Jade. He was staring right at me, and I was unsure how long he had been standing there.