Damon followed her into the kitchen without a word, his presence quiet but attentive as he positioned himself slightly to the side, not interfering yet not disengaged either, his gaze moving carefully across every motion she made while she began preparing the meal.
The kitchen soon filled with a soft rhythm, the sound of utensils meeting surfaces, the faint crackle of heat, and the subtle aroma of ingredients blending together as the maid worked with surprising ease, her movements natural and practiced, almost as if she had done this countless times before.
Damon's eyes shifted to the ingredients laid out across the counter.
One by one, he examined them.
His fingers picked up a leaf, rubbing it lightly between them before bringing it closer to his nose, analyzing its scent, then placing it back down as his gaze moved to another, a powdered substance he had never seen before, its faint glow almost imperceptible unless observed closely.
Most of this… I have never seen or even heard of in my past life…
His brows furrowed slightly as he continued observing, occasionally touching, occasionally smelling, breaking down what he could from texture, scent, and reaction to heat, trying to piece together their purpose without asking a single question.
Then—
His gaze shifted to her.
She was focused ,calm.
And… oddly content.
A faint smile lingered on her face as she worked, her earlier nervousness seemingly replaced by a quiet concentration that made her movements smoother, more confident.
Although I can't let my guard down completely around her…
His eyes narrowed slightly.
She has had multiple chances…
The thought deepened.
Moments where she could have killed me… or at least attempted to.
His mind replayed fragments.
Even yesterday…
According to that pink fluffy… the poison used on her was strong… a complete immobilizer…
His gaze lingered on her back for a second.
And yet… she still warned me.
The conclusion formed slowly.
So she doesn't intend to harm me…
A slight shift.
…at least not yet.
His fingers tapped lightly against the edge of the counter.
But if I want to even consider trusting her…
Before the thought could fully settle—
She turned looking at him.
A soft smile formed on her face as she stepped forward, holding a single plate she had just prepared, her eyes carrying a faint, almost hopeful shine.
"It's ready, young master…"
Damon looked at the plate for a moment, then gave a small nod.
Without further discussion, they both moved back into the main room, where Damon cleared a portion of his study desk with a simple sweep of his hand, setting aside the book and adjusting the space before taking his seat.
The maid stepped closer and carefully placed the plate in front of him, then remained standing where she was, waiting.
Damon looked at her.
Then spoke.
"Sit on the bed."
She hesitated for a moment, clearly unsure, but after a brief pause, she nodded slightly and moved to the bed, sitting down quietly while keeping her gaze lowered.
Damon remained seated, his gaze fixed on her as she sat quietly on the bed, her eyes lifting to meet his, and for a brief stretch of time neither of them spoke, the silence lingering in a strangely steady way as if both were waiting for the other to move first.
After a moment, Damon tilted his head slightly and shifted his gaze toward the plate in front of him, subtly signaling without saying a word.
The maid blinked.
Then quickly realized.
"O-ohh…"
She stood up halfway in a hurry, picked up a spoon, and took a small bite from the plate, her movements careful and deliberate as if making sure he could clearly see it.
The meal itself was simple in presentation yet rich in composition, a neatly arranged plate with slices of tender meat glazed in a faintly shimmering sauce, accompanied by a portion of steamed grains that carried a soft golden hue, alongside sautéed vegetables that emitted a faint, almost mana-like fragrance.
Damon watched her for a second.
Then picked up his spoon.
And took a bite.
The reaction was immediate.
His eyes widened slightly, the expression subtle but unmistakable as the flavors settled on his tongue, layers unfolding one after another in a way he had never experienced before, the richness of the meat blending seamlessly with the warmth of the grains and the faintly energizing essence of the vegetables.
For a brief moment, he simply stared at the plate.
Then, almost involuntarily—
"It's good."
The words slipped out before he could stop them.
The maid froze.
Then her expression brightened in a way that was completely unguarded, genuine happiness spreading across her face as her shoulders relaxed, her eyes softening.
"Then… eat more, young master…"
Damon gave a small nod and continued eating, this time more steadily, no longer analyzing each bite as much as simply consuming it.
As he ate, the maid spoke again, her voice carrying a faint excitement now.
"T-this meat… it's from a silverhorn beast… it helps in strengthening the body's natural mana circulation… and the grains… they are sun-infused wheat, they provide steady energy without burdening the body…"
She pointed slightly toward the vegetables.
"A-and these… they are etherleaf greens… they help stabilize the mana flow so it doesn't become chaotic…"
Damon listened as he ate, not interrupting her, absorbing both the taste and the information as his gaze occasionally shifted toward the plate and then back to her.
She too took small bites in between, as if to show him each part was safe, her movements lighter now, more relaxed.
Damon's eyes lingered on her for a moment.
Then—
He froze.
Something felt off.
His gaze sharpened slightly as he looked more closely at her face.
"W-why are you crying?"
The maid quickly raised the back of her sleeve to her face, wiping away the tears in a hurried, almost flustered manner as if trying to hide the fact that they had appeared at all, her shoulders tensing slightly before she forced herself to steady her breathing.
"It's… ahh… nothing," she said, shaking her head faintly as she tried to compose herself, her voice soft but uneven, "I am just glad… eating with another person… I didn't know it could feel this good…"
Damon's gaze remained on her, steady and observant, though he made no immediate comment, allowing her words to settle in the quiet space between them.
"And also… young master tried my cooking for the first time… it just—" she continued, but her voice faltered midway, the emotion catching up to her again as she paused and wiped her eyes once more, her fingers trembling slightly as she struggled to maintain that fragile smile.
Damon watched her in silence, a thought surfacing unbidden in his mind.
No… don't do it… it's unnecessary…
His grip on the spoon tightened ever so slightly, his gaze lowering for a brief moment before he spoke anyway, almost against his own reasoning.
"I… what's your name?"
The moment the words left him, his thoughts resisted.
Why did you say that…?
You know exactly what this leads to…
Knowing her name will only create a connection… and once that happens, distance becomes harder to maintain…
He simply looked at her, waiting.
The maid blinked, clearly caught off guard by the question, her expression shifting into confusion as if she genuinely didn't know how to answer, her lips parting slightly before she spoke.
"I—I don't know…"
It was Damon's turn to frown, his brows drawing together as he looked at her more closely.
"What do you mean you don't know?"
She hesitated, her fingers curling slightly against the fabric of her dress before she answered, her voice uncertain yet carrying no trace of deceit.
"You can say… I just don't remember it…" she said, raising her hand and lightly tapping her head with her fist in a small, almost self-conscious gesture, as if trying to explain something she herself didn't fully understand, "the last thing I remember is… I was always working in the Valecrest manor, and everyone there just called me 'number 8'… or 'sister'… or 'aunty'… or simply… 'the maid'…"
Damon fell silent, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer before he looked away, the weight of her words settling quietly in his thoughts, forming something he did not immediately try to define.
After a brief pause, he asked again, his tone slower, more measured this time.
"You—don't you have any family?"
The maid lowered her eyes, her expression dimming slightly as she answered.
"I—I really don't remember… and even if there was someone… nobody ever came looking for me…" she said, her voice softening further as she gave a faint, almost self-deprecating laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes, "so… I've always been alone…"
The maid lifted her head slightly, and despite everything she had just said, a bright, almost reassuring smile formed on her face as she spoke again, as if trying to ease the weight of her own words.
"So… for your question… you can just call me maid, number 8, or anything… it doesn't really matter…"
Damon didn't respond.
He simply looked down for a moment, his gaze unfocused as if something had settled in his mind that he hadn't yet decided how to deal with.
The dinner ended quietly after that, and she soon gathered the plate and utensils, moving back into the kitchen to clean up while Damon shifted to the bed, leaning back against the wall with one leg stretched out and the other slightly bent, his head tilting toward the window beside him.
Outside, the night sky stretched wide and silent, scattered with distant stars that seemed far removed from everything below, and for a moment his thoughts drifted with that view.
A lonely bird… in another world…
looking away…back turned to everyone..
Silent cries… that he never heard…
His eyes softened just slightly.
Can this heart… break out of this solitude shared…
The faint sounds of water and utensils echoed softly from the kitchen as the maid continued her chores, the quiet rhythm blending into the stillness of the night, and by the time she finished and returned, the room had grown darker, calmer, wrapped in that gentle silence that came only when everything else had settled.
Damon turned his head slightly, his gaze falling on her as she moved around the room for the last few tasks, and after a brief pause, he spoke.
"If you want… you can sleep on this bed with me… the danger of assassination… it's still there."
The maid froze for a moment, clearly caught off guard, her fingers tightening slightly as she looked at him, then after a small hesitation, she nodded softly.
"Umm…"
Damon shifted slightly to make space, and after washing up, she returned and carefully lay down beside him, keeping a small distance at first as he reached over and switched off the mana lamps, letting the room fall into darkness.
The night deepened.
She turned her back toward him, her posture still for a moment before settling into stillness, as if trying to fall asleep.
Damon lay there for a while, staring into the darkness, before he spoke again, his voice quiet but clear.
"Sahira… I will call you Sahira from today."
Her body reacted with a slight flinch.
"…Mmm…"
She didn't turn nor did she say anything
Only her back remained visible in the dimness, shuddering every now and then with quiet, hitched breaths.
Damon turned his back toward her as well, his gaze drifting again into thought.
Sahira… the one who stays awake at night…
saha… meaning together…