Chapter 7

Thinking he was bored, I suggested, “I’ll fetch more books from downstairs, and you can choose as you like.”

“No need. I don’t feel like reading now,” he refused.

“As you wish,” I responded. Standing beside him, I could feel his gaze lingering on me, making me uneasy.

“What do you… want?” he suddenly asked a strange question.

“What?” I was taken aback.

The baron leaned back on his pillow, eyes closed, and said, “I mean, you’ve cared for me this whole time and deserve a reward. Do you want money? Or something else? If it’s reasonable, I’ll try to accommodate you.”

His tone was condescending, as if looking down on me with a hint of disdain.

I couldn’t recall if I’d faced such awkwardness in my previous life.

I replied as humbly as possible, “Caring for you is my duty. You are an honored guest of Baker Manor. As for rewards, the viscount has already promised to promote me to senior footman.”

“Very well. If you have other requests, you may tell me.” He glanced at the two books beside him and added, “Since you’re literate, read to me. I don’t want to strain my eyes.”

“As you wish.” I took the book the baron handed me—a book about Flying Island titled _Flying Island Adventure_.

I read slowly, word by word: “The dense jungle rains from time to time, and our group was drenched. We lost our way deep in the jungle, which was dangerous, as it was full of venomous snakes and wild beasts. If we didn’t find a campsite by nightfall, our lives would be at risk.”

“The dark-skinned humans behaved like beasts, brandishing crude spears and animal bones, jumping and dancing around us.” This section described explorers discovering a small tribe and interacting with them. At first, everything seemed normal, but as the story progressed, “…those scantily clad dark-skinned girls pulled me deep into the jungle, tearing off the only cloth covering their bodies…”

“Why did you stop reading?” the baron suddenly asked.

I glanced at him awkwardly, noticing he was watching me with great interest. “This… I…” I hesitated for a long time. The words in the book were far too bold—I couldn’t bring myself to read a single one aloud.

“How old are you this year?” he suddenly asked.

“Eighteen,” I replied.

“Only eighteen? So you’re still a child. The day you came to take care of me, you acted so composed—I thought you were even more mature than I am.” The baron gave me a glance and said slowly, “Keep reading. I want to hear you.”

I flipped past those two pages of lengthy, risque descriptions, cautiously looked at the baron, and then began reading. The baron merely smirked mockingly but didn’t call me out.

On that warm afternoon, he leaned quietly against the pillow with his eyes closed. I sat by the bed, reading to him. Occasionally, a shadow flitted past the window—sparrows foraging in winter.

Seeing his steady breathing, I thought he had fallen asleep and set the book down. But he immediately opened his eyes and said, “Why did you stop?”

“I thought you were asleep,” I answered.

“Your voice is very pleasant,” he said.

“Thank you for the compliment,” I responded.

“Keep reading…”

The winter afternoon slipped away quietly between the turning pages. At dusk, as I carried the baron’s used dinner tray out of the room, I met Lauren at the staircase landing. She wore a pale green satin gown, her golden wig adorned with sparkling rubies that glowed in the twilight.

I bowed in greeting. She fluttered her feathered fan slightly and smiled. “You must be Toker? How is the baron today?”

“The baron is recovering,” I replied.

“It must be lonely staying in his room all day. How does he pass the time?”

“The baron has been reading a few books.”

“Oh? What kind?” she pressed. I hesitated slightly and looked up at her. Lauren seemed to realize prying was improper and smiled gently. “No need to worry—you can tell me. The baron and I often discuss books.”

“Mostly some travelogues…” I answered truthfully.

Lauren glided away, while I stood there, watching her figure recede into the distance. The sunset’s afterglow spilled through the glass windows onto the corridor carpet, and downstairs, the housekeeper Rachelia’s voice could be heard ordering the lamps to be lit.

Everything seemed normal, yet my state of mind had already changed. In my past life, when Lauren first spoke to me, I had been overjoyed. A woman so noble and elegant had set my heart racing. But it was precisely this delusion that ultimately led to my tragedy. Those who presume too much are bound to be disappointed–how could an aristocrat like her ever fall for someone as lowly as me?

Suddenly, Austin’s figure surfaced in my mind, stirring waves of bitterness. Perhaps nobles could fall for someone like me, but back then, I was so lost in my beautiful dream that I turned a blind eye and deaf ear to everything around me. I found the idea of being liked by a man disgusting and filthy, as if my dignity had been trampled. My hatred for Austin took root and grew even deeper because he might marry Lauren, whom I loved so desperately.

Chaotic thoughts churned in my heart, and I suddenly regretted approaching Austin again. Was I scheming against him once more? The thought made me restless. Did my desire to get close to him stem from a deep-seated urge to retaliate against those who had hurt me? Austin would undoubtedly become a weapon for my revenge, which was why I deliberately took care of him during his illness to win his trust. But how was this despicable version of me any different from my past self? Would I deceive and hurt him all over again?

The sun had set, and I stood alone in the dim corridor. The murals on the walls twisted into eerie shapes in the shadows.

“Oh my!” A startled exclamation came, “Is that Toker? What are you doing here? It’s so dark, not even a candle is lit.”

“Lizbeth? Sorry, I scared you.” I quickly apologized.

“You’ve been acting stranger lately. If this continues, Butler Pod will get angry.” She said while lighting the candles in the hallway.

“I’ll be more careful. Thank you.” I replied with a smile.

Lizbeth stared at me blankly, her cheeks flushing as she whispered, “No wonder the new girls are all smitten with you, you man…” She paused and asked, “The baron’s new valet arrives tomorrow. Will you still be serving him?”

“Since the new valet is coming, naturally I won’t be needed anymore.” I shook my head. “I’ve been promoted to senior footman. Butler Pod will train me for a while, then assign me to oversee banquets.”

However, that evening, Viscount Lloyd suddenly summoned me to his study. His study was filled with bookshelves, but most of those books were just for show. This viscount didn’t care for reading—he preferred fine food, wine, and women.

I still remembered in my past life when he patted my shoulder and said, “Austin likes you. If you pretend to accept him, he’ll be overjoyed. Once he trusts you, you can enter his study… Our Lloyd family will remember your kindness and repay your sacrifice. And Lauren, that poor girl—she likes you but is being forced to marry that hunchback…”

But after they got what they wanted, their ugly faces turned coldly against me. In court, this Viscount Lloyd pointed at me and declared sharply, “Your Honor, he stole my property and should be hanged!”

I was locked in a cell awaiting execution when the Yorkshire rebellion broke out. I barely escaped, then lived under a false name, constantly hiding, until the day I died of typhoid fever…

Now, I looked at the amiable viscount and put on a humble smile. “Master, how may I serve you?”

“Ah, you’re that brave young man. I heard you took care of my nephew Austin. Seems your actions won his trust. Today he told me he wants you to continue serving him as his personal valet.”

I froze. The baron had specifically requested me to keep serving him. Was it because of my attentive care during his illness that made this life different from the last?

I began to hesitate, the thought of “using him” surfacing again. Did God let me be reborn just to walk the path of deceit once more? If the viscount’s family killed me in my past life, then in this life, I would be the one killing Austin. I should stay away from him—far away.

“Cat got your tongue, hm? Be careful when tending to Austin. Have Pod teach you more.” The viscount said. “Report regularly about the baron’s affairs. Understand?”

“But, I…” I tried to object.

“But what!” The viscount kept his patience, speaking softly. “My boy, I know you’re a good lad. But I’m Austin’s uncle, and I worry for him. Do you understand?”

“…Yes, I understand, master.” I had almost forgotten—as a servant, once the master gives an order, unless I want to be thrown out, there’s no room for refusal.