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Translator: penny
Chapter: 37
Chapter Title: Praise Makes Even Whales Dance
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Aira had moved into the annex with me and Piel under the pretext of physical therapy combined with training.
Her body would fall apart again if she didn't keep moving, so naturally, I assigned her household chores, and she didn't refuse.
The second slave I'd brought into this annex after Piel.
Under the guise of training to witness the "success story" of the bastard Lucas Argent up close with her newly recovered body, Aira quietly went about her tasks.
Cleaning, carrying water, preparing meals.
On the surface, it looked like a peaceful scene of the three of us laughing and chatting idly.
Of course.
There was no way I could teach her any noble bloodline secrets or the like.
'But if I told her that, she'd run away immediately...'
The way to success?
The way to live as a noble?
Tips for making it big?
...Don't make me laugh.
In just eight years, she'd awaken as a high elf according to the original story and live a life of luxury on her own.
By then, no matter what I did or didn't do, Aira would become a "queen."
The same went for Piel.
Right now, they were both at the rock bottom of their lives, bound to me as slaves, but in ten years when the original story truly began, they'd be heroes whose names were known across the continent.
Me, on the other hand?
Even in ten years, I'd still be the bastard young master of the shadowy Argent Family.
Best case, a supporting character whose name gets mentioned.
What could someone like me possibly teach them?
So what I was doing now wasn't real training.
It was "pretending" to train.
In other words, thorough lobbying.
To prevent the future where, before her awakening like in the original story, her eyes were gouged out and all her teeth pulled—until then.
Starting now, I was racking up points as naturally and harmlessly as possible.
"So this is what laundry is like."
Aira's fingertips trembled faintly as she dipped her hands into the cold water.
Her arm and shoulder muscles hadn't yet found their proper place with every movement.
"My hands feel like they're freezing every time."
"Do this when that happens."
I casually placed my hand over hers.
Enveloping her frozen fingers, sharing body heat.
"If we hold them together, they'll warm up quick."
Aira swallowed hard for a moment.
She dipped her head slightly as if to hide her surprise but didn't pull her hand away.
"M-Master!"
Then Piel suddenly butted in, wagging her fox tail as she approached.
"Me too! Can't I join? It'd warm up even faster with all three of us..."
In the end, three hands stacked together.
A strange scene mixing cold water, body heat, and awkward silence.
Aira was a princess.
Even if treated like a "non-child," her birth was royal.
At first, she was pathetically clumsy with every chore.
Using too much water, ruining fabrics from poor strength control, dropping tools she held countless times.
But each time, I kept my voice low.
There was no reason to get angry, nor any intention to.
"It's fine. That's good enough for now. Next time, try it like this."
Piel chimed in from the side.
"Ah, let me do this one! Your hands hurt, right, Aira?"
Like a head physician assisting in rehab.
There's an old saying that praise makes even whales dance, right?
And from my position knowing the original story, I knew just how devastating those words were to Aira.
This girl had never properly heard "good job" growing up even once.
That's why even as an adult, she'd waver easily at a single bit of recognition, trust easily, and get betrayed just as easily.
I had to fix that habit starting here.
"You did great with that too."
"That was quick thinking just now."
"You're getting better at controlling your strength."
Stroking her head for doing well, lightly patting her shoulder for doing well, nodding for doing well.
"Mm. Very good. To become a great person, you have to understand the weight of what small people do. You're doing plenty well right now, Aira."
"Th-Thank you!"
Aira bowed her head in response.
Her voice was small, but there was a tremor mixed in somewhere.
"Master!"
Then Piel pressed right up against my side again.
"Me too! I worked hard today. Pet me."
Her fox tail swished through the air.
I chuckled with a sigh and stroked Piel's head too.
And so, a peaceful week passed, and that evening...
"Dinner is served."
Aira entered the room with plates as usual.
But the moment she saw the table, I unconsciously blinked.
"You... made all this by yourself, Aira?"
"Yes."
Aira nodded crisply.
"Tonight's menu is braised meat stir-fried with root vegetables. I used minimal oil and mild spices."
Judging by her tone alone, she sounded like the exclusive chef of the vanished annex.
The presentation and aroma were proper enough that even formal heirs of the Argent Family could eat it without complaint.
As the three plates were set on the table one by one, not just me—even Piel, who had once boasted she'd teach Aira as a former head maid—stared speechless.
"Piel couldn't have taught you this."
I asked without taking my eyes off the plates.
"Did you... self-study it on your own?"
"Yes."
Aira hesitated briefly before answering.
"There was a cookbook in the kitchen... I've been practicing with it."
My gaze naturally shifted to her hands.
Scars dotted here and there. Definitely not from just one or two mistakes.
Aira noticed and hid her hands behind her back with a smile.
"More importantly... could you taste it, Master Lucas?"
"Ah, yeah..."
"Piel too, please."
"Me too?"
Piel rolled her eyes.
"Well, it already looks delicious without trying..."
Urged on like that, we all eventually picked up forks.
And one bite.
Juices burst in my mouth. The heat control, the seasoning—all perfect.
Piel chewed silently for a while too before going slack-jawed like she'd seen something unbelievable.
This was, honestly, a taste from heaven.
"You did great, Aira. It's really delicious."
"It was so good, Aira! The best! As head maid, I recommend Aira for chef!"
"Hehe. Thank you both..."
Aira beamed at their words.
There was no pretense in that smile. Pure joy.
The results of endlessly cutting, burning, and failing at "cooking" over time—accepted without hesitation by her master and companion, eaten with delight.
That fact alone made all her past struggles feel utterly worthwhile.
She kept that expression throughout the meal.
"I'll work hard to make even tastier dishes next time."
As late evening arrived and it was time for bed, Piel headed to the bedroom with Lucas as always, and Aira bowed carefully before them.
Then to the empty annex guest room.
Precisely, the room Lucas had given her.
On the surface, just an ordinary end to the day with rest.
But reality differed.
Fwoosh.
Where Aira headed at dawn wasn't the soft bed.
She sat at the desk, lit a candle, and opened a book.
A cookbook.
And beside it, stacks of miscellaneous books on cleaning, clothing care, tea serving—everything a maid needed to learn.
Finish one, open the next.
Drowsiness hit? Pinch the back of her hand. Eyes blur? Rub them briefly.
Third night in a row.
This midnight routine had become Aira's secret daily life, unknown to anyone.
In the past three days, her sleep amid work and study totaled barely an hour.
But Aira didn't see it as a problem.
She could endure fatigue. Bear the pain.
Only stopping terrified her.
When had it started?
This memory of receiving praise.
Aira thought long, recalling one very old scene.
The toddler days, just starting to walk.
Her mother smiling at her for walking a bit sooner than her sisters.
"Good job, Aira."
That was it.
The first and last.
Nothing after.
No "good job," no "it's okay," no glances back.
But lately, she heard those words every day.
Good job.
Delicious.
Amazing.
Each time, something inside her chest melted away.
What Aira had craved her whole life.
The warmth named family.
The annex.
Ridiculously small and shabby for a noble's residence.
Yet the daily life unfolding inside resembled the "family" she'd only imagined.
"Master treats his slaves like family."
When she first heard that, Aira scoffed inwardly.
Family?
With strangers who don't share blood?
Especially master and slave.
No room for family in that relationship.
But.
One week.
After just one week, Aira shattered that thought herself.
Help with hard tasks.
Teach when you don't know.
Praise when done well.
Sit at the same table, eat together.
Laugh, chat, call names.
Too... like family.
Even more than the elven kingdom kin who cast her out.
This was the exact form of family she'd only dreamed of.
That's why it scared her more.
If she slipped even a little, became even slightly useless, disappointed them a bit—this all could crumble in an instant.
The same phrase looped madly in her head.
Don't want to lose it.
Don't want to lose it.
Don't want to lose it.
Grind. Grind.
Clenching her teeth and gripping hard, blood welled again.
Didn't matter.
Even if she lost her eyes again, her teeth shattered to none, her body broken like before.
Better than them looking at her with disappointment.
"Urp?!"
A face flashed in her mind.
Lucas and Piel looking down at her.
Smiles cooling, twisting into contempt like the elven kingdom kin eyeing the useless.
That mere imagination clenched her stomach.
Bile rose in her mouth, and Aira vomited onto the floor.
But she didn't stop.
Staring blankly at what she'd spewed, she soon got on her knees and scraped it up with her tongue.
This too was food they'd painstakingly provided.
Kindness given for her to eat.
Discarding it was "betrayal."
Lick. Lick.
Tears trailed down her cheeks, but Aira didn't stop.
Only after devouring it all did she stagger to her feet.
And thought.
Need to cut sleep more.
Effort harder than now, become more useful than now.
Then, this family-like daily life would continue.
Aira believed that.
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