21 Compensation
In the comfort of Alice's room, the dawn of a new day gently caressed her slumbering form. As the first rays of sunlight filtered through the parted curtains, they eagerly reached out to awaken the young miss. Alice stirred, her eyelids fluttering open, gradually revealing her drowsy gaze.
"Good morning, young miss," greeted a maid with a warm smile, her hand gracefully pulling back the curtains. The sudden intrusion of sunlight spilled into the room, piercing Alice's eyes and rousing her from her peaceful dreams. With a yawn, she sat up in bed, taking in her surroundings.
"Why am I here? I distinctly recall dozing off in the dining room yesterday," Alice murmured, a hint of confusion lacing her voice.
Another maid, broom in hand, chimed in, "It appears that young master Desmond brought you to your room yesterday. We didn't want to disturb your rest, young miss."
"Oh…" Alice nodded, her memory slowly piecing together the events. Then, a realization struck her like lightning, and she exclaimed, "Where is the gift?!"
Regret mingled with urgency in her voice as she scanned her bed frantically, searching for any sign of the precious offering. With hurried steps, she rushed to inspect the cupboard, her fingertips brushing against each trinket. Alas, the gift remained elusive. The maids joined the quest, diligently scouring beneath the bed, beneath the pillow, and even casting their gazes up to the ceiling.
Minutes ticked by, marked by the mounting desperation in Alice's heart. Yet, despite their collective efforts, the gift remained stubbornly hidden. Alice's legs gave way, and she crumpled to the floor, anguish etched across her face. Tears welled up in her eyes, cascading down her flushed cheeks, and a sorrowful sob escaped her lips.
Panicked whispers filled the air as the maids scrambled to console her, their soothing words falling on deaf ears.
"Young miss, please don't cry. We can always purchase another gift for the young master," one of the maids tenderly pleaded, her hand gently stroking Alice's disheveled hair as she sat on the floor.
"But-today-it's Desmond's birthday," Alice managed to utter between choked sobs, her voice trembling with emotional strain. Her cries reverberated through the room, drawing concerned maids from all corners to gather by her side.
It had been two days prior when Alice embarked on a quest of her own, diligently scouring every corner of the town to find the perfect present for her beloved brother. After an hour of meticulous consideration, she had finally settled on a precious necklace. It was a work of art, expertly crafted by the skilled hands of the master blacksmith, tailored to Desmond's tastes. The anticipation had swelled within her as she eagerly collected the masterpiece, entrusting the payment to her servant while hastening back home.
But destiny had played a cruel trick, for the necklace, the symbol of her heartfelt affection, had vanished without a trace. The weight of disappointment bore down on Alice's fragile shoulders, her tears serving as a poignant testament to the depth of her despair.
.
.
.
Desmond retired to his room after a night of meditation and introspection. Wearyness began to overtake him, and he stretched out on his bed, speaking softly to himself. "I didn't realize it was already morning. The meditation was truly revitalizing; it allowed me to lose track of time."
As fatigue settled upon his body, Desmond closed his eyes, intending to steal a moment of rest. However, his tranquility was shattered by the unmistakable sound of crying emanating from the adjacent room. His heart skipped a beat. "Alice?!" He recognized his sister's voice and wasted no time, springing into action.
Arriving at Alice's door, Desmond noticed a group of maids discreetly peering into her room, causing his heart to quicken its pace. Without hesitation, he forcefully pushed past them, determined to reach Alice's side.
Upon entering her room, his gaze darted around, searching for Alice, but found her bed empty. Instead, his eyes fell upon a maid standing in the corner, her head bowed. Then, his gaze landed on Alice, seated on the floor, her face flushed and tear-stained.
"Alice?! Are you alright?" Desmond rushed to her side, cupping her cheeks gently in his hands.
"Desmond?" Alice raised her head, her teary eyes meeting his worried gaze. In that moment, her gaze shifted downward, and she noticed the precious gift she had carefully prepared adorning Desmond's neck.
"Stupid, stupid..." Alice muttered, her frustrations taking the form of gentle strikes against Desmond's chest, before burying her face against his strong frame.
"Ow, ow..." Desmond feigned pain, playing along with Alice's antics, though confusion flickered in his eyes. He glanced at the maid, who could only offer a wry smile in response.
"This morning, the young miss woke up and searched for the gift she intended to give you. After several minutes of fruitless searching, she became quite distressed," the maid explained, her tone laced with sympathy.
"Ah," realization dawned upon Desmond, and he leaned in to whisper something in Alice's ear. "How about I accompany you on a shopping trip today?!"
At the sound of Desmond's offer, Alice's eyes widened with excitement, and she nodded fervently, her spirits lifting. "You promise, alright! I'll get ready immediately." Alice rose to her feet, pointing an accusatory finger at Desmond.
Desmond mirrored her playful gesture, his right hand placed over his heart, assuming the pose of a knight receiving orders. "Yes, Sister!"
Alice stifled a laugh, struggling to contain her mirth, before finally surrendering to a fit of laughter. "Puff, hahaha!" Their joyous laughter filled the room, a testament to the bond they shared as siblings.
Desmond could only offer a gentle smile as the maid in Alice's room ushered him out, leaving him to ponder the peculiar emotions that had welled up within him. Over the past three years, Alice's unwavering affection had gradually seeped into his heart, eroding the barriers he had erected against familial bonds. Though he still considered himself an outsider, these moments of warmth had left an indelible mark on his soul, sparking subtle changes within him.
He was neither the valiant hero who readily embraced the shifting dynamics of this world and stood as a staunch defender of his newfound family, nor was he the archetypal villain who viewed everyone with suspicion and kept a cold distance. In the past, Desmond had merely maintained a friendly facade, indulging in playful banter, laughter, and smiles. But now, he found himself thawing, his aloofness giving way to a more tempered demeanor.
...
...
...
In the sanctuary of the library, Desmond immersed himself in the pages of a captivating book, relishing the solace it offered. A delicate china teacup sat beside him, filled with aromatic tea. Suddenly, the creaking sound of the library door reached his ears, and a maid timidly entered.
"Young master, young miss has finished her shower," the maid informed him.
"Ah, I see," Desmond replied, setting aside his book and taking a final sip of tea before gracefully rising from his seat. With measured steps, he exited the room, his thoughts momentarily drifting back to a time two years prior.
Back then, with only one bathroom shared among the four of them, the Desmond family had taken turns bathing, including the servants. However, the upper bathroom belonged exclusively to the Desmond family, and the servants were expected to utilize a smaller, modest bathroom downstairs. Desmond often observed a few maids venturing out to a public bathhouse for their cleansing rituals.
When he first experienced the bathing facilities in this world, Desmond was surprised to find them strikingly similar to those in his previous realm. The ceramic bathtub, with its water temperature gauge, caught his attention. And hovering above him, he noticed a crystal-like object. Inquisitive, he had queried his parents, who explained that it was an energy-saving crystal.
Functioning akin to a battery in the world he had left behind, it operated on similar principles, utilizing its unique energy source for charging purposes.
An idea sparked within Desmond's mind. He embarked on a series of experiments and eventually succeeded in creating a self-cleaning wardrobe, drawing inspiration from the technological advancements of his former world.
