It was when the empty glass containing the scent of whiskey was refilled with golden liquor once again.

“Bellus. Have you ever heard of Zen Baker?”

Eric asked, watching his reaction. Bellus raised both eyebrows and rolled his eyes.

“Hmm? Zen Baker? Well. Was there a Baker family? Where is he from? What’s his title?”

“He’s a bourgeois from Astrian.”

At Derick’s words, curiosity flickered in Bellus’s previously indifferent eyes. It was more like the gaze of a young predator eyeing its prey than pure interest.

‘Hmm?’

There were certainly a few bourgeois among the club members. John, Eric, and Derick would speak glibly, telling the bourgeois that everyone was friends within the club, but in reality, there was a huge wall between them.

‘Honestly, the financial state of John’s family, the Viscount Powell house, is precarious. It’s no exaggeration to say they’ve been overtaken by the bourgeois who joined the club. Yet John still boasts a high nose just because he’s nobility.’

For these prideful fellows to be concerned about some bourgeois.

‘Ah, interesting. This could be fun.’

Feeling as if a sweet candy was rolling around in his mouth, Bellus asked with a smile.

“So? What does this Zen Baker do?”

[This is the timeline separator]

Deborah firmly believed that Zen would move her to a new room as he had promised.

Though Zen’s personality wasn’t very pleasant, he was a man of high credibility. After all, he always kept his word without fail.

So when Zen came to find Deborah the day after she went out and said, “Follow me. I’ll guide you to the new room you so desired,” she wasn’t particularly surprised.

‘He really doesn’t speak nicely. And there’s no need for him to guide me personally.’

It could have been handled by other servants guiding her, like last time.

Anyway, Deborah was grateful to be able to leave this room. The current room was so spacious that she felt oppressed even when just sitting still.

‘I wonder what the servants’ quarters are like. Given how large and nice the mansion is, it’s probably better than I expect. Ah, will I have a room to myself?’

While most servants shared rooms in pairs, Deborah wasn’t an ordinary maid, so there was a high chance she’d have her own room.

‘Even if I have my own room, I’ll probably run into people often in the hallway, right? Should I ask Shelley to introduce me?’

Deborah happily followed behind Zen, lost in various thoughts. But the moment she saw the door of their destination, Deborah’s pleasant imaginings turned to ashes.

“No.”

Deborah said firmly as soon as Zen stopped walking.

“I haven’t even opened the door yet.”

“I can tell just by looking at this door. It’s not okay.”

The door in front of Deborah now was much larger and more ornate than the door of the room she had just been staying in. There was no way a room with such a door could be modest.

“What do you mean, not okay.”

Saying that, Zen opened the door without hesitation. A warm heat rushed out, as if the fireplace had already been lit.

‘What is this.’

The room waiting for Deborah was truly magnificent. The wide windows holding the sky, the especially high ceiling befitting a top floor room. And the furniture too. Though not as luxurious as the room she had been using, it was more dignified and elegant.

There was no way a servant could stay in such a room.

‘Of course not!’

Zen lowered his gaze diagonally to examine Deborah’s state.

Hands gathered in front, back straight in a proper posture. Her face also held a faint smile. At first glance, she seemed the same as usual, but looking closely, her clear eyes were darting about frantically.

Suppressing a chuckle that nearly escaped, Zen spoke deliberately sternly.

“This is the room next to the person you’re so concerned about.”

“By that, do you mean you’re giving me the room next to Mrs. Baker?”

Zen’s face, which had been wearing its characteristic arrogant smile, instantly turned cold.

“Mrs. Baker?”

At his sharp voice, Deborah realized her mistake. While it was true that the room Dia would use was meant for the future mistress of the house, the two weren’t married yet.

“It’s unpleasant to hear such a title when they’re not even married.”

Zen said, furrowing his brow and brushing back his hair. Deborah hurried to respond.

“I apologize. However, it’s unreasonable for me to use the room next to Lady Blaise.”

“Is it? It’s a room where you can quickly rush over when that person calls. Isn’t it rather convenient for work?”

“Ordinary servants don’t stay in rooms like this. Even the maids of noble ladies…”

“You’re bringing up rules from other households again. I told you I make the rules here.”

“…”

Deborah had never won against Zen Baker before. Even yesterday, she ended up having her chocolate box taken away.

Of course, it’s natural in this world for an employee not to win against their employer. That would be the ideal relationship. But how could she acquiesce in a situation like this?

In the end, Deborah decided to play her trump card.

“Mr. Baker. I’m sorry, but this might lead to unfavorable rumors.”

Deborah said in her characteristically appealing tone.

In response, Zen crossed his arms, leaned towards Deborah, and murmured softly.

“Unfavorable rumors… What kind of rumors?”

He looked relaxed. He probably knew what Deborah was going to say. Yet he was asking like this.

‘How annoying.’

Deborah pressed her lips together and swallowed a sigh. In contrast, Zen parted his lips.

“Deborah.”

Again. Like yesterday, he called her name with that beautiful voice. If Deborah were to ask him to call her Mrs. Johnson here, would Zen growl again that he makes the rules here?

While Deborah was lost in thought for a moment, his voice, heavy and moist like winter air, spread faintly through the room.

“Things that happen inside this mansion won’t leak outside. At least not without my permission.”

If Deborah hadn’t read Dia’s story, she wouldn’t have believed his words. She would have wondered how he could control the mouths of all the servants working here.

But in the story Deborah knew, Zen had done even worse things than this, and the servants had thoroughly turned a blind eye to all those incidents. It was remarkable loyalty.

‘No, it would be more accurate to call it the remarkable power of money.’

Just as Deborah, wearing a troubled smile, was about to open her mouth saying “Still—”, footsteps of another person were heard in the corridor.

“I’ve returned, Master.”

The man wearing a thick black coat full of cold air greeted with a gentle voice.

Intelligent brown hair and a kind eye smile reminiscent of a spring breeze. Deborah felt she knew who he was even without an introduction.

“You’re early, Cedric.”

Cedric. The butler of this Baker family.

Typically, the position of butler was often held by an elderly gentleman. While footmen required tall stature and handsome faces as important qualifications, butlers needed to possess elegance and experience.

They had to look pleasant even without smiling, and be both respected and somewhat intimidating to other servants.

But Cedric was excessively young and an unusually gentle-looking handsome man.

That’s not to say he looked like a footman. There was an air of nobility in his appearance, behavior, and even his voice, making him seem like a country nobleman or at least part of the bourgeoisie.

“I had to come back quickly. We can’t leave the mansion empty for too long.”

Cedric, bold enough to give Zen an eye smile as well, was one of Zen’s closest confidants along with Todd. While officially serving as the butler, he was active in various fields beyond just managing the mansion.

So Deborah assumed Cedric’s outing this time was also for business reasons. What other reason would there be for him, as the butler, to leave the mansion?

‘But…’

Deborah’s eyes kept being drawn to the bag Cedric was holding. It was definitely a familiar bag.

‘Could it be?’

Noticing Deborah’s gaze, Cedric spoke with a gentle smile.

“Mrs. Johnson?”

With that brief address, Deborah’s head lifted, and Zen’s face visibly crumpled.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Cedric Layford. I work as the butler for the Baker family.”

Cedric extended his hand.

“Ah, yes. Nice to meet you.”

As Deborah reflexively reached out her hand, Cedric lightly grasped it and said with a smile:

“I said it’s a pleasure to meet you, but actually, Mrs. Johnson isn’t unfamiliar to me. I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Deborah’s eyes slowly widened. Cedric, whom she was meeting for the first time today, knew about her? Then…!

“Is that bag… my bag?”

“Haha. Indeed, the owner recognizes it immediately. Theft isn’t an easy task.”

Cedric answered with a light joke, but Deborah couldn’t laugh happily. Of course, the corners of her mouth were still curved upwards, but that was all.

The suitcase Cedric was holding now was her late husband’s, which she had left at Madam Saint’s house. It was an ordinary men’s suitcase with no distinctive features.

So Deborah had thought this suitcase might belong to Cedric, but it turned out to be hers after all.

‘Why did the butler bring my luggage?’

At that moment, something Zen had said before suddenly echoed heavily in Deborah’s mind.

[I’ll have someone even more meticulous than you bring everything, down to the last speck of dust, so don’t worry.]

It wasn’t just empty words.

Deborah raised her gaze to look at Zen, who always kept his word, for better or worse.

But somehow, the look in his eyes as he gazed at Deborah was unusual. He looked extremely displeased.

‘Hmm, why is he like this?’