“Report everything.” Theo continued, his voice calm. “What questions she asks, how you answer, and what she does. Everything.”

“But, Master, I don’t think the young lady wants to…”

“You have a contract with me, not with Yuel.” Theo interrupted.

Mio’s throat tightened. Theo’s cold, piercing gaze bored into her and she felt the pressure tighten around her, like an invisible hand squeezing her throat. Reluctantly, she nodded.

Her master’s obsession with Yuel ran deeper than Mio had ever imagined. Suddenly, she remembered the numerous cameras placed throughout the mansion. Until now, she had simply thought it was a reflection of his meticulous nature. There were no guards in the house, so Mio had assumed that the cameras and magic were to protect against petty thieves.

But now she saw them for what they were – tools of control, all aimed at one person.

But now Mio couldn’t shake the suspicion that all these cameras were there to monitor Yuel. It seemed absurd, but the faint hint of madness in Theo’s eyes made her deeply uneasy.

Mio hadn’t recognized the cameras at first. It was only thanks to her younger brother, who was studying to become a magic technician, that she had picked up some knowledge of magical devices. He had once explained the technique of imbuing mirrors with magical functions to turn them into cameras.

These enchanted mirrors gave off a subtle silver glow around the edges, a detail so small most people wouldn’t notice it. Mio had only been able to identify them because her brother had failed several times to perfect the technique, leaving behind many discarded mirrors with the same faint glow.

Now Mio could easily identify the cameras scattered around the Goldrain mansion – one in the large living room, one in the kitchen, one in the smaller sitting room, and even one in the guest room where Yuel was supposed to be staying.

The realization that Yuel was probably being watched at every moment left Mio with a chilling sense of dread.

Mio knew that she couldn’t reveal the truth about the cameras unless Yuel asked her directly. Even if she did, Mio would be forced to report everything back to Theo.

She suddenly remembered Yuel’s bright, radiant smile. The way she looked at Mio with loving eyes, like a beloved younger sibling, her expression warm and tender.

Yuel didn’t deserve this.

***

Yuel was a quick learner. So much so that she never seemed to forget a word once she saw it. Soon she was speaking Seyonese fluently. Although she hadn’t yet mastered more complex or advanced terms, she could easily handle most of the conversational phrases needed for everyday life. Her progress was astonishing, and Mio found herself both impressed and saddened – impressed by Yuel’s abilities, but heartbroken by the weight of the secrets she couldn’t share.

“Aah! This is so hard!!”

Yuel wasn’t very good at physical activities. She fell five times while trying to learn to ride a bike, but each time she got back up, determined to keep trying. When Theo heard that Yuel was learning to ride a bike, he gave her a brand-new, shiny bike.

But Yuel’s expression when she received it was strange. It looked like she was frowning, confused – almost like a child lost in an unfamiliar place.

After observing for a few days, Mio began to realize that the relationship between Yuel and Theo was quite peculiar. Theo clearly loved and cherished Yuel, but he never stopped demanding reports from Mio about everything Yuel did. There was a disconnect, a strange tension between his affection and the control he maintained.

It was as if Theo wanted to completely bind and suppress Yuel, to keep her tightly controlled, but he was too afraid of earning her resentment. It was as if he was constantly repressing his darker desires, trying to keep them from rising to the surface.

Mio didn’t tell Theo everything. She told him about the little things: Yuel’s progress in learning Seyonese, her interest in bicycles, her questions about the family, how to cook, or why the gardener was so good at hiding. She even mentioned trivial things like Yuel’s curiosity about the various servants around the mansion.

But there were certain questions Mio instinctively kept from him. When Yuel asked about the back gate, how to use magic to find missing people, the large building visible through the window, how to get to the capital, and where the nearest airport or dock was, Mio left them out. The questions made her uncomfortable and she couldn’t bring herself to report them.

Yuel would always talk to Mio in places like the glass corridor or open spaces in the garden, or as they walked along the paths. It seemed that Yuel was at least somewhat aware of the cameras in the mansion, just as Mio was.

Yuel Estin… As far as she was concerned, she seemed to love Theo, but at the same time, she was extremely cautious around him. She often asked Mio questions that she could have easily asked Theo herself. Unlike other noble ladies, Yuel didn’t go shopping, throw parties, or gossip with friends.

No matter how hard Mio tried to ignore it, she couldn’t. There was something strange about the relationship between Yuel and Theo.

“Mio, are you still holding on?”

Yuel asked several times, her voice nervous.

“Yes! I’m holding on!”

Mio replied happily, although she had already let go of the bike seat without Yuel noticing.

As Yuel struggled to find her balance, Mio watched her with a growing mixture of affection and concern. The mystery of Yuel’s cautious, quiet life and her strange, tense relationship with Theo weighed on her mind, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it.

“Mio! You’re holding on, right?”

“Yes! Don’t worry!”

As Yuel pedaled, the new bike glided smoothly down the path. She managed to ride it to the middle of the path on her own. Then she looked back and realized that Mio was much further behind than she had expected.

“Ah!”

Instinctively, Yuel slammed on the brakes, wobbling as she came to a halt.

“Did I just drive by myself?”

“Yes! That’s exactly what you’re doing!”

It had taken Yuel almost a week to learn how to ride a bike – slow progress compared to how quickly she had mastered the Seyonese language, speaking everyday phrases fluently in just five days.

“Ah, I think I understand now,” Yuel said thoughtfully. “Even if I start to wobble, I just have to keep pedaling.”

Mio couldn’t help but feel that there was something deeper in Yuel’s words, though perhaps she was reading too much into them. Every time Yuel came out into the garden, she would subtly glance in the direction of the back gate. It had been that way ever since Mio had told her of its existence.

The movement was slight, almost imperceptible, but to someone like Mio – who had spent years in noble households – it was easy to notice. Why was Yuel so fixated on the back gate? As a noble, Yuel had the privilege of leaving by the front gate in a carriage if she wished. If she spoke to Theo, she could go anywhere. But there was something about the way Yuel was quietly watching the back gate that suggested she had something else in mind.

But Mio knew only too well that Yuel would never ask Theo for permission to leave through the front gate.

Why, she couldn’t quite understand. It was as if there was a clear boundary between the things Yuel felt she could ask her master for and the things she could not. And leaving through the front gate seemed to fall on the forbidden side of that line.

“It’s too hot, Mio. Let’s go swimming.”

Yuel said, fanning herself with her hand as she pushed the bike towards the garden. Mio blushed and nodded. Yuel often invited her to go swimming. Growing up in the Goldrain River, Mio was a strong swimmer, though not as skilled as Yuel.

Yuel swam like a graceful mermaid. She could dive deep and glide from one end of the pool to the other without stopping to catch her breath. Her toned, flawless body cut through the water with elegance, moving with such beauty that Mio couldn’t help but admire her every time they swam together.

When Mio first entered the pool area with Yuel, she had expected her to simply help her swim. But to her surprise, Yuel handed her several swimsuits, all of them slightly smaller in size. As Mio stood there in disbelief, Yuel urged her on.

“What are you doing, Mio? Come swim with me.”

Mio had never met a noble like Yuel Estin before. In Seyon, the nobility tended to be less concerned with displays of authority than the Arkel. While slavery still existed in Seyon, it was more a remnant of their troubled culture than a reflection of noble power. The Seyonese nobles were generally modest, and fear of the royal family kept them in line and strictly within the law.

The nobility of Arkel, on the other hand, tended to look down on and mistreat the commoners. Despite her appearance, which was as refined and regal as any noble of Arkel, Yuel Estin was far more informal. She treated Mio as if she were a noble lady visiting the mansion rather than a servant.

 It was as if the usual boundaries between master and servant didn’t apply when they were together, making Yuel feel more approachable and far from the distant, haughty nobles Mio had encountered before.

Today, Yuel couldn’t stop staring at Mio, who was wearing a light pink swimsuit, as if she found her irresistibly cute. At one point, she even tugged at Mio’s cheek playfully.

“Ah, this feels so refreshing!”

Yuel exclaimed as she gently dove into the pool and glided into a backstroke. Mio floated next to her, staring blankly at the clouds above. The sky was a beautiful shade of blue. When Mio focused only on the sky, it made all the chaotic thoughts and feelings swirling inside her seem insignificant, almost as if they didn’t exist.

Yuel still smelled of roses. Her long, pale neck stretched gracefully beneath the tied hair, smooth and white as porcelain. Mio glanced at her briefly before turning her gaze back to the sky.