Chapter 862: Out... Just The Two Of Us?
Chapter 862: Out… Just The Two Of Us? [Bonus Chapter]
She was alone in this enormous twenty-six-bedroom house with Master Silas and the realization hit her square in the chest as she was so shy she forgot about Nitocris.
’…Alone time.’
Her breath hitched, and a wave of scorching heat burst across her chest.
The blush roared up her neck, painted her cheeks a brilliant crimson and turned the tips of her ears so hot she had to press both cool palms against her face to keep from fainting.
’Alone… with Master Silas…?!’ her thoughts shrieked in dizzy, utterly improper panic. ’In this huge house… at night… with nobody else awake…?!’
Her heart hammered against her ribs like a trapped bird.
She was thirty-one years old… She was a formal dignified housekeeper who carried herself with more decorum than women twice her age.
Martha ran this household, kept it spotless, and never once let her composure slip and yet, whenever she stood near Silas… whenever she looked into those confident dark blue eyes with their mysterious rings of gold, whenever that deep voice praised her cooking or a warm hand rested on her shoulder… her foolish heart fluttered like a girl at her very first dance.
’Calm down, Martha!’ she scolded herself, patting her cheeks with both palms. ’You’re his maid! You’re family! You’re here to take care of him, not to stand in the hallway blushing like a silly schoolgirl! Get hold of yourself this instant!’
She took three deep shaky breaths and smoothed down the front of her crisp white apron precisely.
She straightened her back, pinned her stray hairs back into her neat bun, and forced her face into calm professional serenity.
…Master Silas hadn’t come downstairs since the late lunch.
He’d spent hours up there, looking around the master suite, checking the wards and soaking in that enormous bath.
He hadn’t touched a single spoonful of the beef stew simmering on the stove, or the fresh bread cooling on the counter.
A growing young man, especially a Lord who poured out as much strength as he did, needed a proper hearty meal so it was her duty to call him down to dinner.
’I’m coming…’
She walked silently along the plush runner toward the double doors of the master suite at the far end of the hall.
Martha soon stopped in front of the doors and lifted her hand, curling her fingers to give three soft respectful knocks.
Before her knuckles could touch the wood, she noticed the gap.
The heavy doors weren’t latched… About three inches of space hung between them, and warm amber light spilled out from inside.
Martha hesitated with her hand hovering in the air.
“Master Silas…?” she called softly. “Forgive me for intruding… but the girls have fallen asleep, and the stew is hot on the stove. I… I came to see if you were ready for dinner…”
No answer came.
There was no rustle of paper, no murmur of a voice and no splash of water from the bathroom.
There was only a strange silence that hung inside the room, along with a scent that made her nose twitch and her worry instantly beat her manners.
’What if he fell asleep in the tub…?’ she thought, her chest tightening. ’What if he pushed himself too hard…?!’
She pressed her trembling hand against the heavy oak door.
CREAK!
The door swung smoothly inward, opening wide onto the big dim bedroom.
Martha took a single step across the threshold with a polite smile ready on her lips… and then she stopped as her breath died in her throat.
The air inside the master bedroom felt dense and charged, humming with a feeling that made the fine hairs on Martha’s arms prickle.
In the middle of the hardwood floor, framed by the tall glass walls overlooking the twinkling city lights, Silas was balanced upside down in a clean motionless handstand.
He was completely shirtless.
His broad shoulders and sculpted back were locked in perfect alignment with every line of muscle along his spine carved sharp by the soft amber lights in the ceiling.
His breathing was so slow and steady she could barely see it but it wasn’t only his body that held her frozen.
Something was rolling off his skin in wavering heat-shimmers, invisible tendrils of raw concentrated power.
Martha couldn’t see them properly, since she didn’t have the senses of an awakened Lord but she could see the air around him bending like hot glass over a stove and floating in the air around him were things.
A heavy brass pen drifted lazily three inches above his left shoulder… A pair of notebooks circled his waist in a slow hypnotic orbit… An empty porcelain teacup hovered upside down beside his right palm, turning gently as if someone invisible were admiring it.
Slowly, Silas cracked one dark blue eye open as his gaze slid toward the doorway and locked right onto her face.
The gold ring in his eyes flared to life in a brilliant circle of light cutting through the dim room and a sharp electric shiver ran down Martha’s spine and settled at the back of her neck.
“Mmm—”
Her breath caught.
The presence of him, the aura of a man who could do things like this without even trying, was breathtaking in the most awe-inspiring way.
’To be able to do that…’ she thought, her hands tightening against her apron. ’How wonderful it must feel…’
A quiet bitter little pang touched the corner of her heart.
Deep down, in a place she never let anyone see, she wished she could understand it… She wished she could use magic too, could feel the invisible currents of the world dancing across her fingertips but the thought crumbled almost as soon as it formed.
She had no potential to become a Lord.
Nothing inside her had ever stirred, not once in her whole life and even if a miracle fell from the sky tomorrow morning, what business did a plain, ordinary housekeeper have chasing the path of warriors?
She was far too old for dreams like that… Her place was at the stove, ironing school uniforms and making sure the people who carried the weight of the world came home to warm bread and clean sheets.
Before the melancholy could settle, the air snapped as Silas let the wind go slack.
The pen, the notebooks and the teacup drifted gently downward and settled onto the walnut desk without a single clatter.
In the same heartbeat, he pushed off the floor with his palms and flipped forward in a clean silent arc through the air.
SWOOSH!
His bare feet landed with barely a whisper on the rug, right in front of her, less than two steps away from her.
Martha gasped and stumbled half a step back, her eyes going wide as his broad bare chest filled her entire view.
Silas grinned with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
“Evening, Martha,” He drawled, his deep voice rolling over her like warm velvet. “Did you come all the way up to the third floor just to admire the view, or were you planning on coming in…?”
The blood rushed to her face like an erupting geyser.
“M-Master Silas!” she stammered, dropping her eyes to the carpet in mortified propriety and clutching her apron like a shield. “Forgive me! Forgive me for barging in! The… the girls fell asleep in Lady Lia’s room, and the stew is ready! I… I only came to tell you that dinner is ready!”
Silas let out a bright laugh that rumbled through his chest.
He didn’t step back or reach for a towel. He just stood there, completely comfortable in his own skin, tilting his head to try and catch her eyes.
“You don’t need to apologize for checking on me, Martha,” he said softly, his voice dropping into that warm fond tone that always made her knees feel a little unsteady. “And you can stop staring at the floor… I don’t bite.”
Martha kept her eyes glued firmly to his toes, her heart pounding.
“It’s… it’s highly improper for a maid to look at her master while he’s… not properly dressed, Master Silas!”
“Right, right, proper decorum,” Silas teased, stepping aside to give her room to breathe.
He grabbed a clean dark T-shirt off the back of his desk chair and pulled it over his head, the soft cotton sliding down over his chest.
Only then could Martha lift her eyes without feeling like she’d committed a crime against housekeeping.
Silas rested his hands on his hips, and his expression shifted from playful to something quiet, thoughtful and surprisingly gentle.
“Actually, Martha,” he said, his dark blue eyes holding hers with steady warmth. “I’m glad you came up… I’ve been thinking about something since this afternoon.”
Martha blinked, smoothing her apron.
“Master Silas?”
Silas leaned his shoulder against the doorframe beside her.
“You do so much for this family,” he said softly. “You cook every meal, you clean every room, you teach the girls extra lessons so they stay ahead in class, and you never ask for anything back… Even when I tell you to take a break, you find another basket of laundry to fold or another shelf to reorganize.”
He paused, and a handsome smile curved his mouth.
“I want to reward you for everything you do… You’ve earned it ten times over.”
Martha’s eyes widened in genuine bewilderment, and her hands fluttered at her waist.
“Master Silas, please! You’ve already given me more than enough! A beautiful room overlooking the gardens, Lady Lia’s care, and a home nicer than anything I ever dreamed of! I don’t need anything else! Taking care of all of you is my greatest joy…”
“That’s not what I mean,” Silas cut in gently, raising a hand to stop her frantic protests.
He looked at her with his gaze feeling undeniably firm.
“I want to take you out tonight,” he said. “Just the two of us…”
The bedroom went completely silent.
Martha stood frozen on the rug, her mouth slightly open and her breath stuck somewhere between her throat and her lungs.
’Out…?’
Her mind refused to process the words.
’Just… the two of us…?’
A sudden intense wave of shyness rose up from her chest and painted her cheeks a soft rosy pink as her lips twitched into a small and wonderfully sweet smile then, half a heartbeat later, her housekeeper instincts slammed back into place like an iron gate.
“Master Silas, I… I’m truly honored, but…” she stammered, her eyes darting anxiously toward the hallway. “…what about the girls? Lady Lia, Miss Penelope and Lady Kaede are fast asleep, but they’re only eleven! I can’t just leave three little girls alone in a huge new house on top of a mountain! What if Lady Kaede has a nightmare? What if Miss Penelope tries to climb out onto the balcony? I can’t leave them alone!”
Silas laughed softly and rested a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
“Martha, look around,” he said, nodding toward the window. “This whole plateau is covered by Class-A wards… Nothing’s getting through those gates and besides, Nito’s here.”
“Lady Nitocris…?” Martha blinked.
“She’s an SSS-Rank ancient empress,” Silas chuckled. “She’s curled up on the living room rug downstairs right now and she’ll keep an eye on the girls… Nothing’s going to happen to them while we’re gone for a couple of hours.”
Martha looked up into his calm confident eyes.
She knew there was nothing left to argue about.
More than that, she couldn’t refuse her master.
When Silas looked at someone with that gentle sincere warmth and asked them to accept his kindness, the whole world seemed to bend to his will.
She lowered her head and gave a trembling bashful curtsy.
“If… if Master Silas insists,” she whispered, her cheeks still glowing pink. “Then I’ll gladly come with you.”
“Great,” Silas smiled, stepping back toward his closet. “Go get ready.”
Martha nodded and turned to hurry back down the hall to fetch her coat…
“Hold on a second,” Silas’s voice called out behind her.
She paused on the threshold and glanced back over her shoulder. “Yes, Master Silas?”
Silas stood by his dresser with an amused, thoroughly teasing smirk, pointing one finger at her outfit.
“Dress properly,” he said smoothly. “No maid uniform.”
Martha’s foot caught on the edge of the rug.
She wobbled with her arms flailing for half a second and caught the doorframe with a tiny adorable squeak of pure panic.
“N-No maid uniform?!” she gasped, her eyes flying wide with horror.
“You heard me,” Silas grinned, crossing his arms. “We’re going out on the town… You’re not working tonight, Martha. Wear something normal and nice at least.”
Martha stood frozen against the doorframe, her entire world tilting dangerously off its axis.
…No maid uniform.
Ever since she’d started working for him, the black-and-white fabric had been her armor and her pride.
Stepping out into the night without her apron felt like asking a knight to march into battle without his plate armor.
“I… y-yes, Master Silas!” she choked out, her face burning brighter than a lantern.
She turned and practically bolted down the corridor with her shoes padding frantically along the carpet as she fled toward her room like a startled quail.