The Mob And The Butler

“The carcass of a beast was thrown into the well…!?”

The shock that incident brought to the mobs of Lineage was immense.

In the midst of an infectious disease spreading and wreaking havoc, there was a new lord who had saved them when they could do nothing but resort to violence.

Despite still being only a ten-year-old child, she had brought the infectious disease under control, lowered the tax rate, and used extraordinary magical power to reclaim the wasteland.

The lives of the people had improved dramatically compared to before.

If this person was here, then perhaps…

It was enough that they could even begin to hold hope for the future like that.

That was exactly why the mobs felt fierce outrage at the news.

(It had to be the work of those nobles. To do such a thing to Lady Mythia… unforgivable.)

The mobs did not understand complicated matters.

However, they were not the kind of people who could silently watch while their benefactor was being attacked.

“We rise up. We are not going to let those nobles do whatever they want any longer. We will protect Lady Mythia.”

The mobs who had risen up began using their spare time to keep watch over the town.

They kept especially careful watch around the area where Lady Mythia lived, and trained their bodies so they could fight when the time came.

(Come at us from anywhere, you damned nobles.)

However, the situation developed in a way completely unlike what they had expected.

After Mythia visited Edward Charlus’s residence, the movements of the nobles in the surrounding region visibly quieted down.

More than that, they even seemed afraid of something, as though they were watching Mythia’s expression for cues.

(Why in the world…)

A mysterious situation far beyond anything they had imagined.

Yet the mobs instinctively understood who the key figure was that had brought it about.

“You did it, didn’t you?”

A butler’s uniform without a single wrinkle.

A beautifully straight back and a dignified posture.

At the mobs’ words, the butler serving Mythia—Vincent—turned around without changing his expression.

“What are you referring to?”

“The martial arts you showed on the first day you came here were completely unlike those of an ordinary person. That is not something you can learn overnight.”

“I am afraid I do not understand what you are saying.”

“If you cannot answer, then you do not have to. What we want to say is that we want to thank you. We think it is amazing that you are helping Lady Mythia. We respect you.”

One of the mobs said.

“And we want you to let us help too. We want to lend our strength for the sake of the benefactor who saved our friends and our families. We may be uneducated, but we are confident in our strength. We will do anything. We will obey your orders without fail. So please, let us work under you.”

Vincent gazed at him with colorless eyes.

Then he turned his back to the mobs and spoke.

“My apologies. I have work to do.”

“If anything troubling comes up, call for us anytime. We will definitely be of help. We will train our bodies for that day. Just once is enough. Please, give us a chance to prove our strength—”

“Excuse me.”

Vincent said.

There was a tone there that allowed no argument.

The mobs could say nothing and merely stared at Vincent’s back.

(No, it would be rather troubling if they said it as though I had done everything.)

Vincent walked back toward the mansion while recalling his conversation with the mobs.

Certainly, it was true that the skills he had honed as an agent had been useful in overcoming Edward Charlus.

However, that was only a matter of providing the means.

Vincent felt that the greater contribution had come from Mythia, who had taken command as the master and matched wits with the talented young noble Edward Charlus, and from Ciel, who had cooperated as her assistant.

(I knew Lady Mythia was capable, but to think Ciel had mastered skills to that extent.)

Ciel, who should have been nothing more than an ordinary maid one could find anywhere, had steadily acquired the skills of an agent while being involved with Mythia and Vincent.

She had originally been dexterous and quick to learn.

However, more than anything, the thing improving her skills was her powerful motivation.

‘Sometimes, I think Lady Mythia might actually be the daughter I gave birth to. Just looking at her sleeping face makes her dear to me, or rather, it is like my genes recognize her as my beloved daughter.’

‘My feelings for Lady Mythia cannot be stopped by something like this lock. If I think it is for Lady Mythia’s sake, I can overcome any hardship. She is, in practical terms, the daughter I bore in pain.’

‘Tell me, Vincent. Do you understand what love is? For example, figs are my favorite fruit. When I think I want to eat figs, or want them always by my side, that is when love is born there naturally. That said, love for something as trivial as figs and my love for Lady Mythia are on completely different levels.’

(I had vaguely sensed it, but Ciel has lost quite a lot of her sanity.)

She was supposed to have been an excellent young maid who worked seriously, so when had she ended up like this?

‘A boyfriend? There is no way someone like me, who worked nonstop at a noble house, would have had time to make one. And I do not want workplace romance because it becomes troublesome later, and on my days off I sleep at home all day to recover from fatigue, so there are no chances to meet anyone. More than that, romance is such a hassle. To be honest, more than a boyfriend, I want a child. I have been searching for somewhere to pour this motherly love that has nowhere to go—’

He remembered hearing those words from her six years ago, when he had first begun working for House Lumiore and was gathering information about the human relationships within the mansion.

As the daughter-like existence Ciel had instinctively been seeking, it seemed that Lady Mythia had fit perfectly into that role.

It might even have been close to the phenomenon where one’s first niece suddenly seems absurdly adorable.

(In Ciel’s case, though, she is trying to become a mother on her own, so it is far beyond that and dangerously excessive.)

He tilted his head, wondering whether Lady Mythia was really that cute.

Certainly, there were times when he found it adorable how she stretched herself beyond her small body and behaved like an adult.

However, if one asked whether she was so cute that he would want to think of her as a daughter, then surely that was not—

‘There were white flowers blooming in the garden! When I looked at them, I thought I wanted to give them to you, Vincent. Here, a present!’

‘You opened that lock with wire in an instant! Amazing, one more time! Show me one more time!’

‘I am always grateful to you, Vincent. The way you conduct yourself as a masterful agent is truly so cool, and I want to become a wonderful person with inner strength like you. You are my goal and my admiration.’

(Wait, is not Lady Mythia unbelievably adorable as a daughter…?)

He shook his head to drive away the hesitation born in his heart.

For Vincent, who lived as a professional endowed with intelligence and dignity, that sensation was nothing but an unnecessary emotion.

(I am the servant who supports and protects Lady Mythia. Right now, I must fulfill what ought to be done for the greater cause.)