"You guys are really close. Seems like you've known each other for quite a long time," Allen said with a smile, feeling a calm, pleasant atmosphere settle around them.
"Hmm, yeah," Bary replied, keeping his focus on the road.
"The way you can talk back to Master like that…" Allen glanced at both men but stopped himself. He thought he might be overstepping. "Ohhh, by the way, is this going to be a long drive? Are we going to meet some important people?" Last time they left, Bary had given him a tab with Vincè's information, so he assumed this trip would be similar.
"It is. You should sleep," Bary said curtly, offering no details, no tab, no briefing. Allen wasn't worried, he had studied the information given previously.
"Okay, I'll sleep. But wake me up if you need a reliever, I can drive," Allen said.
"No need," Bary replied.
Allen let his consciousness be blanketed by darkness, drifting smoothly into sleep.
After three hours of driving, Bary gently shook Allen awake.
"Allen! Wake up! You should eat dinner. Hey!" He tapped Allen's arm repeatedly. "Hey… wake. Up. Master. Is. Waiting." Bary's tone was sharp, almost frustrated.
"Hmmm…" Allen slowly opened his eyes. "Where are we?"
"Let's go eat dinner. Master is waiting inside," Bary said, stepping out of the car and gesturing him along.
"Yeah, sorry," Allen muttered, getting out and following Bary into the restaurant.
"What would you like to eat?" Bary asked as they were seated at a round table, positioned with precise symmetry.
"Anything's fine, except seafood. But I'm okay with fish," Allen replied, still groggy and not in the mood to make choices.
"Why's that? You don't like shrimp or crab?" Bary asked, scanning the menu.
"Yeah… I really hate the smell," Allen mumbled sleepily.
"Master doesn't like them either," Bary added casually, without thinking.
"Really? Why's that?" Allen's curiosity overcame his drowsiness.
"I don't know. Why's that, Master?" Bary asked, glancing up expectantly.
No answer came.
Charlson, whispered to Bary threateningly using telepathy
~shut it~
~Yes, Master, I apologize~
"Maybe I liked seafood so much in my past life that even the smell makes me puke in this life" Allen said nonchalantly. Charls blinked in surprise, and Allen gave him a questioning look, silently asking, 'You believe me, right?'
Dinner was quiet. Allen wasn't used to such calmness, meals with others were supposed to be lively. Back home, mealtime had been chaotic in a joyful way, with children arguing, laughing, and chattering nonstop.
Yet here, the quiet was comforting in a different way. Everyone seemed content as they had food to eat. Allen felt a small warmth in his chest, remembering how he wanted children to feel they were in a home, not an orphanage.
"So… I still don't know where we're going. Care to inform me a little?" Allen said, shoveling pasta into his mouth.
Bary looked at Charls, who gave a small nod.
"We are going to Master's house." Allen choked on his food.
"Why are you bringing me along?" He asked, after drinking water to soothe his burning throat.
"Because Master's parents want to meet you, as the new personal assistant to their heir," Bary replied as a matter-of-factly.
Allen's cheeks flushed. "Well… is it really necessary? I mean—"
"It is necessary because it's Master's parents' wish," Bary said firmly. The statement carried weight, more like an order than a request. Charlson's parents had insisted on meeting Allen after repeated refusals.
"Okay… so, anything like do's and don'ts in the house?" Allen asked, thinking about the wealth of his master and the possibility of strict household rules.
"Nothing in particular. Just be yourself," Bary said vaguely.
After dinner, they drove another three hours, arriving at a massive gate hidden deep in the forest. Inside lay a garden filled with colorful, fragrant flowers, and beyond it, a towering mansion with ornate architecture and sprawling wings.
"This isn't just a house… it's a mansion… a huge mansion castle," Allen murmured in awe. He imagined hundreds of children could live comfortably inside.
As they entered, nearly a hundred maids formed four straight lines. "Welcome back, Young Master." They bowed as a sign of respect, when Charls passed through them they dispersed silently to their duties.
"You will meet Master's parents tomorrow. Rest now. A servant will attend to your needs, just call if you require anything," Bary said. Two maids led Allen to a room on the third floor.
"This will be your room while you're staying here, sir. Everything you need is already inside. If you require anything, press this button," one of the maids said, pointing to a button near the door. Allen thanked them politely as they bowed and left.
The room was spacious beyond imagination. These people really love big rooms, Allen thought, stretching his arms. Sleepiness crept back. I better rest. I need to be up early later. The least I can do is not make Master's parents wait.
Suddenly, loud screams echoed through the hallway outside. "What's happening?" Allen muttered, getting up to press the button and call for the maids. "What's all the noise?"
Opening the door, a piercing scream bounced off the mansion walls. "Who's that? …Was that Master's voice?" Panic tinged Allen's thoughts. A maid rushed past the stairs toward the fourth floor.
"Excuse me! Hey, excuse me!" Allen called. "What's happening? Is that Master?"
"No need to worry, sir. Please return to your room," the maid replied, but another scream erupted. "Please go back to your room!" She hurried up the stairs.
Worried, Allen followed, climbing toward the source of the noise.
Inside, Charlson lay curled on the bed, clutching his head in pain. A woman tried to prevent him from rolling off.
"What the hell is happening?" Allen asked then everyone fell silent. Charlson grunted, holding back another scream. "What's wrong?"
"I asked for you to stay in your room," the maid explained.
"Is Master in pain?" Allen approached. "Master, is it a headache? Give me your hands, please." Charlson ignored him, so Allen grabbed his right hand.
"Hey—" a maid began, but the lady cut her off.
"Let him be."
Allen massaged the hand valley point on Charlson's right hand, between the thumb and index finger. Firm pressure here can relieve stress, headaches, migraines, toothaches, and tension in the shoulders and neck.
Charlson still grunted, but the pain gradually subsided.
A maid entered. "The doctor will be here in ten minutes."
"Please excuse me, Master," Allen said, massaging Charlson's left hand. "How are you feeling? Does it still hurt? I'm sorry for taking your hand without permission."
"You must be Allen Queen," the lady said, radiating authority and elegance.
"Yes, ma'am. I apologize for entering the room without permission."
"It's alright. Thank you for helping Charls just now." She smiled warmly. "How are you feeling, honey? Does it still hurt?"
"I'm fine. All of you go and do your work," Charlson said weakly.
"Okay, honey, but Allen must stay to accompany you, alright?"
The maids stood at attention. "Get well soon, Master," they said in unison, bowing.
"Allen, we'll return once the doctor arrives," Lady Ckyan added, leaving Allen alone with Charlson.
"How did you know about this pressure point?" Charlson asked, breaking the silence.
"Ahh… well…" Allen cleared his throat. "Back at home, many children would get sick or hurt themselves while playing. I learned basic first aid for them." He avoided Charlson's gaze.
"Children? Must be your siblings," Charlson guessed.
"Not by blood, but yes, we are like siblings," Allen said, smiling, thinking of the kids at home.
"How so?"
"It was an orphanage… where my mother volunteered. I grew up helping her, so I'm very close to the children in her care."
A knock came at the door. Lady Ckyan entered with a middle-aged man.
"Doctor Oliver is here," she announced.
"Hello, Charlson. It's been a long time. Oh… a new face is here. What are you doing to Charls' hands? A pressure-point hand massage?"
"Yes, Doc, you're right," Allen said, letting go of Charlson's hands. "I should go back to my room and change." He left in a hurry.
"How is that even possible? That trick doesn't work on you, right? And the new kid just massaged away your headache?"
Doctor Oliver had been the Rois family physician for decades, Charlson's doctor since childhood.
"I was shocked too, Oliver. When he massaged Charls' hand, the headache faded within a minute. We tried many times before, but it never worked."
"We should discuss that later. How are you feeling now?"
"I'm good. A little stretching helped," Charlson said, combing his messy hair with his fingers.
"Let me check your vital signs, and then we can decide your next steps."
"How is he, Oliver?"
"He's perfectly fine. How did it feel when the young man massaged your hands?"
"It felt like… he was injecting pain relief directly into my body through his touch."
"Hmmm, that's intriguing. My first time seeing it work in real life," Oliver said thoughtfully.
"What do you mean?" Charlson asked, curious.
"There's an ancient text I read stating that a person will be born who can become a healer capable of curing every disease, but…" Oliver trailed off.