Civil Servant in Romance Fantasy

The butler was there to greet me as soon as I returned to the mansion. I hadn’t told when I’d be back, so how did he know when to wait for me?

“The staff has been taking turns waiting for your return, Master. It just so happens that it was my turn when you arrived.”

“You didn't have to do that.”

A small laugh escaped me at the butler’s straightforward but effective method. If you didn’t know when someone would return, then just wait until they did. I had forgotten such a simple approach.

I patted the butler on the shoulder as I headed to my room and he followed, offering a brief report.

“I’ve shown the guests to the rooms they’ve used before.”

“Well done. It’s always better to have them stay somewhere familiar.”

“And I’ve given Lady Marghetta a tour of the mansion’s facilities.”

That made me glance back at the butler. Giving someone a tour of the facilities wasn’t just a matter of showing them around; it meant that they were being considered as part of the household.

“Isn’t that a bit premature?”

“It’s actually overdue. It would only be an issue if Lady Marghetta plans to delay marriage for a few years after graduation.”

I nodded at the butler's firm words.

That made sense. Marghetta, who was already struggling with the urge to drop out, might faint if I told her that our wedding was still years away. And then her father, the Iron-Blooded Duke, would be furious.

“I intended to introduce the other ladies as well, but I hesitated since I wasn’t sure of the proper order.”

His reasoning made sense. Everyone knew that Marghetta was the first wife, but it was unclear whether Louise or Irina came next, so he paused.

This wouldn’t have mattered in the past when I was obsessed with the idea of a joint marriage. But now, we needed to follow the proper order of marriage and rank. Naturally, the butler would want to introduce them in the correct order.

“The second wife isn’t among them.”

However, the butler was mistaken about something. Neither Louise nor Irina was the second wife.

“Oh, is that so? What a shame. I wanted to greet them in advance.”

“You’ve met her before. Remember the Mage Duchess?”

The butler’s footsteps faltered for a moment as he followed behind me.

“...Ah, yes. I had momentarily forgotten.”

But he quickly resumed walking as if nothing had happened.

“Haha, it was a hectic day.”

“It was a day none of us will ever forget.”

Anyone who saw the Mage Duchess that day would never forget it.

She had sat there with her shoes off, crying silently. She was also covered in bruises and cuts from dragging herself around. I was shocked, like everyone, by her pitiful state.

I had to make sure that nothing like that happened again. If it did, rumors could spread about me being an abusive husband.

“Oh, is Louise in her room?”

I turned my attention back to the butler as I considered the grim possibilities. Since I had successfully handed off ring number two, it was now time for ring number three.

Besides, from the butler’s reaction, it seemed like Louise was already being treated as a lady of the house. But the more she was treated that way, the more anxious she would probably feel.

While the staff might treat her as a lady of the house, she’d likely be reminded of the fact that she still hadn’t heard my response, which could be quite disheartening.

“She’s in the kitchen. She said she wanted to prepare some snacks for the staff.”

The butler's expression was subtly warm as he spoke. It seemed that he was pleased that a lady of the house was making something for the staff.

“Make sure to eat it with enthusiasm even if it doesn’t suit your taste.”

“I’ll do my best if there’s any left for me.”

At that, both the butler and I burst into laughter.

She was cooking alone, but there were many mouths to feed. Especially with snack lovers like Yuris and Sophia around, the butler’s share would be small.

***I couldn’t hide my excitement as soon as I arrived at oppa’s mansion.

I was able to enjoy sightseeing around Wulken Duchy thanks to Lady Marghetta, but I had to restrain myself a bit because the reason for our sudden trip to Wulken was to discuss oppa’s engagement with her.

No matter how much I enjoyed wandering about, I couldn’t afford to cause a commotion when it was a critical time for Lady Marghetta’s future.

So, arriving at oppa’s mansion after an unintended period of restraint felt incredibly comforting.

"I must say I'm a bit nervous to be hosting the future ladies of the house."

The butler’s words brought me not only comfort but also joy.

It was only natural for them to consider Lady Marghetta as their future mistress. After all, oppa’s relationship with her was widely acknowledged even if it hadn’t been officially announced yet. She even had a ring on her finger.

In contrast, I hadn’t received such a ring, nor had I even heard a response from oppa. So, being referred to as a lady by the staff filled me with happiness.

...And if the staff were already treating me as a lady of the house, then did that mean that oppa had given them a hint?

That’s possible.

Yes. They must know something, which was why they were treating me this way. Surely the staff wouldn’t call me ‘my lady’ without confirming oppa’s intentions, right?

Thinking that, any lingering anxiety quickly dissipated. After all, the fact that both Irina and I were invited to oppa’s mansion along with Lady Marghetta was a positive sign.

Thanks to the staff, I felt at peace. That was why I wanted to offer a small token of appreciation to those who helped calm my heart.

“Excuse me, Mr. Butler.”

“Yes, please feel free to speak.” freēwēbηovel.c૦m

I cautiously asked the butler, who responded with a warm smile.

“Would it be possible for me to use the kitchen?”

It was just a small gesture to the point that it was almost embarrassing. I was just a young noblewoman who hadn’t inherited a title or land yet, so there wasn’t much I could offer.

But still, wasn’t it better to give something, no matter how small, rather than nothing at all?

***Luckily, I was granted permission to use the kitchen. Well, I was told I could use it as much as I liked, so I guess ‘permission’ wasn’t quite the right word.

Anyway, the kitchen was huge. I had seen it a few times last summer, but it was impressive enough to leave me in awe even now. How did oppa manage to acquire such a mansion?

“If you need any tools or ingredients, please don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Oh, thank you very much.”

“And please speak more casually. I’m at a loss when someone of your stature speaks so formally.”

I offered an awkward smile to the head chef, who let out a hearty laugh.

Head chef?

I’d seen him before, but it felt like a new experience every time I did.

With his build, it was hard to believe he was a chef. I knew we weren’t supposed to judge people by appearances, but still.

With bulging muscles, sun-tanned skin, a towering height of over two meters, and a head and beard shaved clean in the pursuit of extreme cleanliness, the chef looked more like a mercenary from a novel than a head chef.

Wow…

And every time he moved, his arm muscles seemed to ripple like they were alive.

What exactly did it mean to be a head chef in this mansion? Did it mean they had to personally hunt the ingredients for meat dishes? Oppa certainly had high standards.

"Do I look a bit intimidating?"

"No, not at all."

I quickly responded, shaking my head as the chef asked with a grin.

It wasn’t a lie. He wasn’t just a bit intimidating—he was extremely intimidating.

"Haha, thank you for saying that, but I’m well aware of how I look. When kids see me for the first time, they usually burst into tears."

Two specific faces came to mind immediately: the two young maids with brown hair who were always stuck together like glue.

It was obvious that the staff in the mansion adored those girls. They were diligent and seemed to get along with everyone.

So even those girls cried in front of the chef... I see.

"It took a lot of effort to bribe them with cake to stop their tears."

The chef sounded amused, but the image of him coaxing the frightened children with cake made me flinch.

No, no, stop it.

Just because he looked rough on the outside didn’t mean he wasn’t a kind person on the inside. It was rude to judge him based on appearances.

"...Though the butler almost called the guards when he saw that."

“Ahaha...”

I could only manage a weak laugh in response as he added, looking a bit downcast. It seemed that others felt the same way I did.

Still, our conversation eased some of my tension toward the chef. Now I knew for sure that it was just his exterior that was intimidating.

“Well, that was a lot of small talk. Anyway, I’ve made quite a few things over time, so the staff here are used to desserts. No one dislikes sweets, so feel free to make whatever you like."

"Thank you."

"Haha, don’t mention it. We should be the ones thanking you for making something for us."

With that, the head chef turned back to his work but then suddenly paused and came back to me, lowering his voice.

"I almost forgot to mention—Master eats just about anything, but he never touches cookies."

"...What?"

I stared blankly at the chef, not understanding what he meant.

What does that mean? Oppa has always enjoyed cookies and other treats…

***I noticed the familiar giant as soon as I entered the kitchen. Unlike some villainous bald man somewhere, this one was incredibly kind.

Or maybe I should call it a fashion statement since the head chef shaved his head by choice. Who knows whether the 3rd Manager lost his hair voluntarily?

"Chef."

At my call, the chef, who was standing far away, immediately responded.

"Oh, Master!"

I gave a light wave as he strode over, grinning toothily and bowing deeply.

...Did he get bigger?

I couldn’t shake off the feeling that he looked even larger than before as he bowed. Was he still growing?

What an extraordinary person. No matter how I thought about it, he was better suited for something other than the kitchen. But if this was where he wanted to be...

"Have you been well?"

"Oh, yes. It seems you’ve been doing well, too."

"Thanks to your kindness, I’ve been living without any shortages!”

The booming response from the towering chef right in front of me made my ears ring a little.

But what could I do? That intense energy was part of what made him the chef.

“But where’s Louise—”

“Oh, she’s over there!”

I looked past the chef who was practically a human shield and spotted Louise in a corner, deeply focused on her work.

“But, Master, I think I might have made a mistake...”

His unexpected words made me turn back to him.

“A mistake?”

“Yes, Master.”

Seeing the usually confident chef nodding with a bit of a defeated air made me raise an eyebrow in curiosity.

The head chef might look like a wild mercenary on the outside, but he was a gentleman filled with thoughtfulness and warmth inside. People around the mansion even joked that someone put a gentleman’s soul into the body of a beast.

Besides, Louise wasn’t the type to get upset over small things. Even if the chef did make a mistake, she was the kind of person who would laugh it off.

“Tell me what happened. I’ll decide if it was really a mistake.”

“Well—”

And so, the head chef launched into a long-winded explanation. I half-listened, letting some of it go in one ear and out the other until he said something that caught my attention.

“—So I told her that you don’t eat cookies. It would be sad if she worked so hard on them only for you not to eat them.”

I couldn’t help but smile wryly at that.

Now that I think about it, I haven’t mentioned anything to Louise. Actually, it wasn’t just Louise—I hadn’t explained it in detail to anyone except Marghetta.

“I—I must have really messed up...”

The head chef murmured, his face turning pale.

“No, it’s not a mistake. The truth is, my tastes changed after I went to the academy. I now enjoy cookies.”

The head chef finally relaxed as I patted him on the shoulder. He must have felt relieved to know that he hadn’t committed a serious faux pas, just a small mix-up.

He was surprisingly sensitive despite his imposing size. Maybe that was why he was so comfortable with staying in the kitchen.

“Don’t worry about it. If you apologize, it’ll only make things more awkward.”

“Yes, understood.”

He replied, nodding repeatedly before returning to his work.

With the head chef back in his place, I approached Louise, who was still facing away from me.

Yes, I was supposed to give her an answer today.

It might take a little longer than expected, but it was a process we needed to go through.