The castle breathed in silence. Morning light stretched long shadows across the black stone corridors, where not a single guard stirred. The air smelled faintly of smoke and dew, and the faintest echoes of the waking realm drifted through distant halls.
And into that silence padded Asura, each step as quiet as his small feet could manage.
He yawned loudly—too loudly—stretching his arms in a show of innocence that would've fooled exactly no one. His robe clung with faint streaks of dirt, his hair stuck out in wild tufts damp with sweat, and his bare soles left dusty prints on the polished marble.
Behind his back, awkwardly concealed beneath the folds of his robe, was the wooden katana. His prize. His secret.
"Flawless," he muttered proudly, smirking as if he'd just cleared the final boss of a stealth game. "Flawless mission. Not a soul saw me. S-rank performance. I am the shadow."
He stopped before his chamber door, chest puffed out, lips curling into a grin of triumph. He reached for the handle—
Click.
The latch turned. The door swung open with a soft creak.
Asura's eyes widened. His smile cracked.
Standing there, framed by the glow of morning light spilling through the chamber windows, was Selene.
Her maid's uniform was pristine, her long black hair tied neatly at the nape of her neck. A silver tray rested easily in her arms, steam rising from a teapot and plates of fruit. Her violet eyes met his golden ones immediately.
And then, calmly, they flicked downward.
To his messy hair. His sweat-streaked brow. His dust-stained robe. His bare, filthy feet.
Finally, her gaze lingered on the awkward bulge of the wooden object he was trying—badly—to hide behind his back.
The silence that followed was louder than any alarm.
"…Young master?" Selene asked at last, her tone gentle but edged with quiet steel.
Asura froze, every muscle locking into place. His mind screamed.
Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no. Busted. Totally busted. Abort mission. Hide the evidence. No—play dumb! Kids can get away with anything if they look clueless!
His lips twitched into what he hoped was an innocent grin. "U-uhh… g-good morning, Selene! I was just, um… taking a walk! Yes, a walk! Healthy morning exercise, you know?"
Her brows lifted slightly, but her expression didn't change. "Barefoot?"
Asura glanced down at his filthy feet, then back up with a forced laugh. "Haha—y-yeah! Helps, uh… circulation?"
Selene's gaze drifted to his disheveled hair. "And the sweat?"
"E-exercise!" he blurted quickly. "Really intense walking!"
Her eyes narrowed faintly, moving at last to the robe and the unmistakable shape hidden beneath. "…And that?"
Asura's heart plummeted into his stomach. He shifted awkwardly, trying to angle his small body so the katana was less visible. "Th-this? Oh, nothing! Just, uh…" He scrambled for words, his mind flashing through every anime excuse he had ever seen. "…a stick! Yes! Kids like sticks, right? Totally normal, haha!"
Selene's lips curved into the faintest smile. Not mocking, not cruel—just patient, like an adult watching a child dig himself deeper into a hole.
Her violet eyes softened slightly as she spoke, voice calm but firm. "Young master. May I suggest… you sit, eat your breakfast, and tell me the truth?"
The tray in her arms never wavered. She hadn't raised her voice. She hadn't scolded him. But her tone carried weight, the kind that slipped beneath his skin and told him resisting would only make things worse.
Asura swallowed hard. His golden eyes darted between her gaze and the tray, then back again.
I'm so screwed…
Yet under the panic, something else stirred—a faint warmth. Because even in catching him red-handed, Selene's voice wasn't angry. It wasn't disappointed. It was… concerned.
Like a mother catching her child sneaking in past curfew.
✦ The Maid's Suspicion
Selene's cloth brushed gently across the boy's small foot, wiping away the stubborn dirt that clung between his toes. Her touch was soft, almost delicate, yet her words were anything but.
"Do not lie to me, young master."
The words cut through the silence sharper than any blade.
Asura stiffened. His act—the wide smile, the puffed cheeks, the exaggerated innocence—wavered like glass ready to shatter. He clutched the wooden katana against his chest as though it could shield him from her piercing violet gaze.
Selene's eyes lowered briefly, studying the faint stains smudged into his robe, the streaks of earth still clinging to his ankles. Her voice remained calm, but her tone brooked no escape.
"Dirt from outside… this is no hallway dust. You left the castle, didn't you?"
His throat tightened. He gulped, mind racing a mile a minute. Crap, she's sharp. Way too sharp. Okay, just… stall. Buy time. Play cute!
He puffed out his cheeks dramatically, crossing his arms and turning his head aside with a theatrical huff. "…Fine. I… went to the garden."
"The garden?" Selene repeated, tilting her head, her tone deceptively mild. "At midnight?"
"Yes!" Asura snapped, nodding so hard his silver hair bounced. "There were… uh… bugs! Big bugs! Really scary ones!" He lifted the katana slightly, hugging it tighter like a frightened child might a teddy bear. "I had to fight them off with my… pillow!"
Her silence was devastating.
Violet eyes studied him for what felt like an eternity. She didn't speak. Didn't move. Only watched.
And that was somehow worse than anger.
Asura squirmed under her gaze. His cheeks burned. His grin faltered. Why is she just staring? Say something! Anything! Agh, this is worse than Grandfather's glare!
Finally, Selene exhaled softly. And then—she chuckled.
The sound was low, gentle, and unexpectedly warm. She shook her head slightly, the corners of her lips curving into the faintest smile.
"You are a curious one, young master," she said, her voice softening again. "Very well. I will not tell His Majesty."
Asura blinked. His jaw dropped. "…Really?"
The relief hit him so hard he nearly dropped the wooden sword. His heart pounded in his chest, golden eyes wide. She bought it? She actually bought it? I'm a genius!
But then Selene straightened, folding her cloth neatly into her apron. Her violet eyes lifted back to his, their softness tempered with quiet resolve.
"But," she continued, her tone firmer, leaving no space for argument, "if you insist on wandering, at least take me with you next time."
Her hand, still faintly warm from cleaning his feet, rested lightly on his ankle for just a moment—gentle, steady, grounding.
"It is my duty to keep you safe," she said calmly, "even from bugs."
Asura froze. His chest tightened strangely. His pride wanted to scoff, to laugh it off, to say I don't need protection. But the warmth in her voice—the subtle care behind her words—caught him off guard.
He turned his face quickly, cheeks puffed again, muttering under his breath. "…Tch. You're too serious."
Selene's lips twitched again, her faint smile returning. She said nothing more, but the look in her eyes spoke volumes. Not suspicion. Not accusation.
A promise.
That even if she didn't know what secrets he carried, she would guard him, as fiercely and quietly as any knight.
Asura's grip on the wooden katana loosened. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, his golden gaze uncertain.
She doesn't believe me… not completely. But… she's not going to tell Grandfather either. Why?
The warmth in his chest returned, stubborn and confusing. He hugged the katana closer, turning away before she could see his expression.
Selene rose gracefully, adjusting her apron as if the conversation had never happened. "Breakfast is ready," she said, her tone smooth, composed.
But Asura couldn't shake it. That mix of sternness and kindness. That vow hidden beneath her words.
And for the first time, he wondered if maybe—just maybe—Selene wasn't just his maid.
✦ The Smile
Asura's chest tightened at her words. For all his cleverness, for all his carefully crafted act of innocence, Selene had seen through him enough to know he was hiding something.
Yet she didn't scold him. She didn't march to the throne room to expose his mischief.
Instead, she smiled.
Her violet eyes softened as she leaned forward, brushing her hand gently through his tangled silver hair. She smoothed it back into place with the same care a mother might give her son after a long night of play. The warmth of her touch lingered, making his cheeks heat despite himself.
"You are troublesome, young master," Selene said, her voice carrying both fondness and quiet amusement. "But that's what makes serving you… interesting."
For a heartbeat, Asura forgot to breathe. His grip on the wooden katana slackened as his carefully rehearsed act—the sulks, the exaggerated innocence—wavered under the gentle weight of her affection.
He turned away quickly, cheeks puffing, golden eyes narrowing to hide the grin threatening to break across his face. "…Thanks, Selene."
The maid rose gracefully, her presence as steady as ever, and lifted the breakfast tray from the desk. She placed it neatly before him, porcelain clinking softly against polished wood.
"Now," she said, arranging the plates with elegant precision, "eat before it grows cold. Adventurers must keep up their strength, yes?"
The words hit him like a blade to the chest.
Asura's golden eyes snapped toward her, wide with shock. "…Adventurers?" he echoed, voice tight.
Selene's smile deepened ever so slightly. A secretive curve, calm and unreadable, though the glimmer in her eyes betrayed that she had chosen those words carefully.
"Ah," she said, bowing her head slightly, "forgive me. I must have misspoken."
Her tone was polite, her posture perfect, but Asura could feel it. The weight behind her words. The deliberate slip.
She knew.
Maybe not everything. Maybe not the system. But she knew enough—that he was no ordinary child, that his restless nights and dirty feet meant more than childish mischief.
And she was letting him keep his secrets.
Asura sat in silence for a long moment, staring at her as she poured tea with flawless grace. His fingers tightened around the wooden katana resting at his side.
"…She's sharper than she lets on," he thought, his heart thudding against his ribs. "Maybe… she already suspects more than I want her to."
Selene glanced at him again, her soft smile unwavering.
And Asura—grandson of the Demon King, heir to unimaginable power, wielder of a broken system—looked away quickly, cheeks burning, wondering for the first time if he was the one being outplayed.