"Young master… about us…" her words trailed off as though she didn't dare finish the thought.
I smiled down at her.
"I love you, Lydia."
A faint flush spread across her cheeks.
Perhaps it was the lingering emotions of the body's original owner, but my heart beat a little faster after saying those words.
Whether the real me truly loved her was uncertain.
…But for now, I decided to simply go along with the emotions of this body and see where things led.
Even as Lydia blushed, a trace of worry lingered in her eyes.
Among nobles, marriage was rarely about love. Alliances were forged through bloodlines, power, and benefit.
Because of that, it was obvious why she worried.
She was only a maid.
Someone like her couldn't remain beside me forever.
"I'll handle it," I said calmly.
After all, I was merely an adopted son. Eventually the truth would surface.
As they say, nothing remained hidden beneath the sun forever.
"I don't want to burden you. Perhaps we should just sto—" Lydia bit her lip, trying to finish the sentence.
But when she felt my fingers gently stroking her hair, she stopped.
Her words faded away.
"I need you to do something for me," I said. "If you really want to help."
Lydia lifted her head and stared into my eyes. The hesitation there slowly hardened into resolve.
"…Train harder."
"Train harder?" Lydia blinked in shock. "How did—"
Her confusion deepened instantly.
Servants were forbidden from practicing cursed arts.
Yet not only did Aristarkh know she was secretly cultivating… he was telling her to push further.
How long had he known?
Why wasn't he stopping her?
Countless questions flashed through her mind.
But the faint smile on my face somehow steadied her heart.
That's right.
She wasn't alone anymore.
She had a man now.
Her man.
And if consequences came… he would face them.
Still, the thought of becoming a burden lingered.
Lydia clenched her fists before nodding firmly.
"I'll do my best."
"That's enough." I smiled.
Seemingly reassured, Lydia leaned against my chest, her slender fingers slowly tracing idle circles across my skin.
She liked moments like this.
There was no urgency.
No hunger.
Just quiet intimacy.
Her fingertips wandered lazily across my chest while we remained lost in our own thoughts.
Time slipped by unnoticed.
Before we realized it, several hours had passed.
With a reluctant sigh, Lydia slowly stood.
"I… have to prepare your meal, young master."
She rose from the bed, completely naked, and began dressing.
"It can wait. I'm not hungry," I replied.
"The matriarch…" Lydia murmured while sliding her bra across her chest.
I nodded in understanding.
She tried fastening it, but her fingers fumbled slightly.
With a helpless smile, she glanced over her shoulder at me.
I walked over and helped her hook it.
But my hands didn't stay disciplined.
They slid over the curve of her breast, briefly slipping inside the bra as I squeezed softly.
I pinched her nipple lightly.
A quiet moan escaped her lips.
"I expected that…" Lydia giggled as she stepped away. "You're too much, young master."
I chuckled as she slipped her panties on.
"You're really going to attend the matriarch with my seed and your juices still leaking out of you?" I asked, raising a brow.
Lydia froze.
Her face instantly turned crimson.
But instead of shrinking away, she lifted her brow slightly and replied boldly.
"Makes it more fun, right?"
"Damn."
For a brief moment, she looked so captivating that my heartbeat skipped.
"Interesting… you're learning a lot of bad habits from me," I mused. "Where did you learn to talk like that? Should I teach you another lesson before you leave?"
Lydia shook her head immediately.
"Unfortunately, I'm already late."
Deciding not to tempt me further, she quickly finished dressing.
Skirt.
Shirt.
Buttons.
Apron.
Within moments, the naked beauty from earlier had returned to the familiar maid's uniform.
Yet the outfit did little to conceal her natural charm.
She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace.
"I'll miss you, young master."
"You'll be back in a few hours," I said, confused.
"It's not the same."
Lydia buried her face against my chest, inhaling deeply as though trying to memorize my scent.
We stayed like that for a while before she finally pulled away.
With a final wave, she left to attend her duties.
I exhaled slowly and collapsed onto the bed.
"Emotions, huh…" I muttered while staring at the ceiling.
My gaze wandered idly around the room, trying not to dwell too much on it.
Then something caught my attention.
Partially hidden beneath a nearby table.
If not for my enhanced eyesight, I might have missed it.
It looked like a book.
A journal.
And judging by the way it had been shoved underneath the table, someone had hidden it in a hurry.
"What's that…?" I muttered.
I crouched down and struggled slightly before pulling it free.
Dust clung to the worn leather cover.
The moment I opened it, the first line struck me like a hammer.
My heart jolted violently.
"I AM GOING TO DIE!!!
I AM FUCKING GOING TO DIE! I DON'T WANT TO DIE… SO I'M GOING TO TRY SOMETHING.
IF I SUCCEED, I WILL LAUGH AND LOOK DOWN ON THE WORLD.
BUT IF I FAIL… THEN MY FATE WAS NEVER MEANT TO BE ESCAPED.
IF SOMEONE FINDS THIS JOURNAL, MOST LIKELY MORE THAN A HUNDRED YEARS AFTER MY DEATH…
PLEASE TAKE REVENGE FOR YOUR ANCESTOR.
I WILL GIVE YOU A LIST OF NAMES.
KILL THEM ALL.
WYATT.
ZOROS.
GRETA.
AZATOTH.
GREAM.
WHILE SEARCHING FOR THE TREASURE THAT COULD CHANGE MY FATE, I WAS MARKED BY ONE OF THEM.
IF YOU LOOK AT THE RIGHT HAND OF MY CORPSE, YOU WILL SEE THE CURSED SYMBOL.
IT CANNOT BE ERASED.
I'M CERTAIN IT'S STILL THERE.
KILL THEM ALL!!!
KILL THEM ALL!!!
KILL—"
The writing deteriorated into chaotic scribbles.
Ink slashed violently across the page until it became impossible to read.
My heartbeat pounded in my ears as I slowly lowered the journal.
Then my gaze dropped to my right hand.
Only now did I notice it.
A faint glow.
A delicate symbol etched into my skin.
An eye.
Watching.
"I'm fucked," I gasped.