The stairwell eventually gave way to the quiet corridor of the dormitory floor, the soft glow of mana lamps embedded in the walls casting pale light across the polished floor as Damon walked toward his room. When Damon finally pushed open the door to his dormitory, he paused for the briefest moment.
Someone was already inside.
Near the small dining counter that separated the living area from the kitchenette stood the maid assigned to him. Her brown hair was tied loosely into a messy bun at the back of her head, several stray strands having escaped and fallen across her face as though she had been working for some time. She stood stiffly near the counter, her hands folded nervously in front of her apron as though she had been waiting for him.
Damon's gaze briefly passed over her.
Then it moved away without a word.
He stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind him as though her presence had made no difference at all.
Without sparing her another glance, he began removing the academy uniform he had worn, the fabric sliding from his shoulders as he discarded it carelessly onto the nearby chair. In its place he pulled on a simple casual T-shirt, his movements calm and unbothered as if the maid standing only a few steps away were nothing more than another piece of furniture in the room.
The woman remained where she stood.
Yet her eyes followed him.
There was something uncertain in her gaze, as though she wished to say something but could not quite bring herself to speak.
Damon eventually sat down on the edge of his bed.
His posture relaxed as he leaned slightly back against the headboard, his eyes closing slowly while his breathing remained calm and even.
For several seconds, the room remained silent.
Then the maid finally gathered the courage to speak.
"Y–young master…"
Damon did not respond.
His eyes remained closed as his thoughts continued moving quietly through his mind.
Was the resonance of this body also the reason I couldn't control my emotions around this woman?
The question lingered as he considered it carefully.
That would explain a few things.
His fingers rested loosely against the mattress as the thought continued.
Such as why the previous owner of this body had such violent tendencies.
He exhaled slowly.
Or perhaps he was simply like that from the beginning…
A faint pause passed.
Who knows.
The conclusion settled quietly in his mind.
Either way, I can at least say that this woman had nothing to do with the way I reacted toward her.
Across the room, the maid shifted slightly where she stood.
"Y–young master…" she tried again, her voice a little louder this time.
Damon finally opened his eyes.
His gaze moved toward her.
The maid flinched slightly when their eyes met, but she forced herself to continue speaking.
"Young master… a–are the results of the class placement exam out yet?"
Damon looked at her silently for a moment, as his eyes examined her carefully.
Why does she want to know that?
The thought surfaced immediately.
Is she gathering information about me?
His gaze narrowed slightly.
Perhaps someone assigned her to spy on me while working here.
After a brief pause, he simply nodded.
"Hmm."
The maid's eyes brightened almost instantly at the response.
"W–was the result… as you intended?"
Damon nodded again.
The reaction was immediate.
Relief spread across her face as a small smile appeared, and before Damon could say anything further she suddenly turned and hurried toward the kitchenette with hurried steps, disappearing inside as though she had just remembered something important.
Damon remained seated on the bed.
His brows slowly furrowed as he stared toward the direction she had run off to.
The maid suddenly came running out from the kitchenette, carefully holding a small plate in both hands as though she feared dropping it if she moved too quickly. Resting on the plate was a neatly cut slice of pastry, its soft layers dusted lightly with powdered sugar.
Damon watched her approach.
His brows remained faintly furrowed, the earlier suspicion still lingering in his gaze.
She stopped a few steps away from him and held the plate forward with both hands.
"T-this…" she began hesitantly, her voice trembling slightly as though she had rehearsed the words in her head but still feared saying them aloud. "This is to celebrate your victory, young master."
Her eyes lowered briefly.
"Y-you are away from home as well… so there is no one you can celebrate this with…"
She hesitated before lifting the plate a little closer.
"S-so this…"
Damon quietly drew a breath.
"There is no need for it," he said calmly.
The maid froze for a moment.
Her gaze dropped to the pastry.
But instead of withdrawing the plate, she suddenly reached for the spoon resting beside it. Without saying anything further, she scooped a small bite from the pastry and placed it in her mouth, as she chewed and swallowed.
Then she spoke again.
"I-I have noticed….," she said softly. "Y-you don't seem to trust me, young master."
Damon remained silent.
His eyes stayed on her as she stood there holding the plate, the small bite missing from the pastry where she had just tasted it.
"But because of your distrust toward me," she continued, her voice quiet yet strangely sincere, "please don't suppress your emotions… and stay alone."
Her fingers tightened slightly around the plate.
"I-I am aware of how that feels," she said slowly. "When there is no one to welcome you when you come back."
Damon looked at her.
For a moment the room felt strangely distant.
Then—
A voice echoed faintly in his mind.
"Mom, Dad, I'm back!"
The memory surfaced clearly.
"As I said yesterday, I came first in my school. Hehe… Mom? Dad?"
Another voice answered in place of them.
"Young master, Master and Madam Sterling have gone to a gala. They will not return until late tonight."
The echo faded.
Damon blinked.
When his focus returned to the room, he noticed the maid standing before him with the same plate still extended toward him.
Her eyes were slightly damp now, though she tried to hide it behind a small, uncertain smile.
Without speaking further, she gently pushed the plate forward again.
On it rested the pastry now slightly uneven from the bite she had taken.
Damon reached out with two fingers and pinched off a small piece of the pastry.
Then he looked at her.
"Thank you."
The maid nodded quickly, her smile brightening as she turned her face slightly away and wiped the faint moisture from the corner of her eyes.
Damon watched her for a moment longer before speaking again, his voice returning to its usual calm indifference.
"You can go do your own work," he said quietly. "I want to rest for a while."
The maid nodded immediately, far more enthusiastically than he expected.
"O-of course, young master."
She quickly picked up the academy uniform he had discarded earlier, carefully folding the sleeves as though handling something fragile before carrying it toward the bathroom to wash it.
The moment she disappeared behind the door—
Damon moved.
His hand reached toward the study desk beside his bed, grabbing a loose sheet of paper that lay there among his notes. He leaned slightly forward and quietly spat the bite of pastry into the paper before folding it tightly and crumpling it into a small bundle.
His eyes darkened slightly.
I can't… trust anyone.
The thought lingered in his mind like a quiet rule he had carved into himself long ago.
Just as he was about to stand up and dispose of the paper—
The bathroom door suddenly swung open again.
The maid came hurrying back out into the room.
Damon reacted instantly.
His hand slipped behind his back, hiding the crumpled paper before she could notice it.
For a brief second he stared at her, a faint irritation flickering in his mind.
Why am I even worrying about what she might think?
Another thought followed immediately after.
Or… is this resonance heightening my emotions again?
The maid had already stepped closer, slightly out of breath as though she had remembered something important.
"Ah—young master—"
But before she could finish speaking, Damon cut her off.
"Do you not fear me?"
The sudden question caught her off guard.
His eyes remained fixed on her.
"Or hate me?"
The words left his mouth more bluntly than he intended.
Inside his mind, another thought surfaced quietly.
From everything I've learned about the previous owner of this body…
And from what she herself told me earlier…
Shouldn't she be afraid of me?
His gaze sharpened slightly.
Then why does she seem so comfortable around me?
The maid lowered her gaze when he asked the question.
For a brief moment she remained silent, her fingers tightening slightly against the edge of her apron before she finally answered.
"N–No…"
Damon watched her carefully.
His expression did not change.
The maid seemed to realize how her answer sounded, because she quickly tried to correct herself, her words tumbling over each other in nervous confusion.
"I–I mean… I–I am scared," she said hurriedly. "B–but not scared… I mean…"
Her voice faltered.
"I–I don't hate you."
Damon rose slowly from the bed.
The sudden movement made the girl stiffen slightly where she stood.
Before she could react, his hands reached forward and gripped her shoulders.
Her head lifted instinctively.
For a brief second her eyes widened in surprise as she looked up at him, the closeness between them making her body tense. A faint tremble ran through her arms, though she did not try to pull away.
Instead, she took a small breath.
And gradually, the tension in her shoulders eased.
"Y–you have changed… young master," she said quietly.
Her voice still carried a slight tremor, but it was no longer the trembling of fear.
"Although I haven't known you for very long…"
She hesitated, searching for the right words.
"…you seem more restrained now."
Her eyes studied his face carefully.
"M–more thoughtful."
Damon remained silent.
But before she could continue—
DING.
The sharp notification sound cut through the room.
Both of them instinctively glanced toward his wrist.
The Manacron on Damon's arm had lit up, its faint blue glow reflecting softly across the room as a new message appeared.
Damon's hands loosened from her shoulders as his attention shifted toward the device.
The maid stepped back immediately once his grip released her.
"I–I have work to do, young master," she said quickly, her voice returning to its earlier nervous tone.
Without waiting for a reply, she turned and hurried back toward the kitchen area, disappearing through the doorway as though she had suddenly remembered an urgent task.