If You Can't Avoid it, Enjoy It!

Miss Olivia shouted at me.

"Take it off!"

Such a provocative phrase from Miss Olivia. I hugged myself and replied to her.

"Kyah, how can you use such suggestive language?"

Miss Olivia was irritated. She claimed she hadn't said that and, looking at the gloves on my hands, repeated her demand.

"Take them off, I'm going to get a refund!"

Such a flirtatious remark to make me remove them.

I fiddled with the mittens on my hands, snorting at Miss Olivia's command. They were small but still usable, so why ask me to remove them?

I felt like I would lose the memories associated with them if I returned them, so I steadfastly refused Miss Olivia's request.

"Why bother with a refund?"

"They're too small!"

"If you stretch them, they'll fit."

"That's not why I bought them!"

"I thought you purposely bought them small for this purpose."

In front of Miss Olivia, I waved the tight-fitting gloves, putting on an act.

"They're warm and nice, what's the problem?"

Miss Olivia glared at me. Her eyes were like she was about to devour me, but the corners of her mouth twitched up into a smile.

I responded to Miss Olivia's smile.

"Clothes are supposed to stretch when worn and shrink when washed, isn't that so? It's good to stretch them out and use them anyway."

"Still"

Miss Olivia felt sorry.

Sorry for buying me small gloves. She said gloves that are too tight could restrict blood circulation and are bad for your health, but I felt that returning them would fade the memories we made, and they were too precious.

"Are they really much too small?"

Just looking at the gloves made me laugh.

I remembered Miss Olivia, with a runny nose, trying desperately to put on the gloves.

Deciding the negotiation was hopeless, Miss Olivia sighed deeply and, looking at the gloves on my hands, said.

"Ricardo."

"Yes."

"The chick has become a chicken."

Miss Olivia remarked upon seeing the stretched embroidery of the chick on the gloves. Due to forcefully pushing my hands in, it was inevitable that the embroidery would stretch.

Touching the stretched embroidery on the mittens, I spoke to Miss Olivia.

"This little one also needs to grow. That's how we raise and eat it."

"You can't eat gloves."

"I know."

Miss Olivia pouted and bit into a piece of chocolate.

"You're mean."

"I know."

A day that started with a small mishap.

We hadn't left the mansion in a week. While Miss Olivia had been pestering me to visit her forest friends, I had avoided seeing faces I wasn't eager to see in Hamel.

It was certain that I would growl at them and Miss Olivia would bite them. Considering the master's dental health is also a virtue of a butler, I had decided on confinement.

Although I was glad that Miss Olivia wanted to go out, I hoped she'd wait a while longer, wiping the chocolate off the corner of her mouth.

"Speaking of which, Miss Olivia."

"Hmm?"

"Do you remember the wheeled chair I made for you last time?"

"The wheeled chair?"

Miss Olivia, who seemed to have banished the monstrosity from her memory, pondered for a while. Whether she remembered the ill-fated invention Benzx No. 1', now lost to history, remained uncertain.

I cautiously asked in anticipation of the Porxsche No. 1' to be born in December. Even if Miss Olivia didn't like it, I planned to ride it. Still, it was polite to consider the car owner's opinion.

I awaited Miss Olivia's reply with a tense heart.

"Hmm"

Click.

She broke a piece of chocolate and chewed thoughtfully. To jog Miss Olivia's memory, I mimed pulling a nearby chair like the one with wheels I had mentioned.

"The chair I could push from behind while Miss Olivia rolled the wheels."

"Hmm Ah! The wheeled kindling?"

Kindling?

As the inventor of the kindling, my pride took a hit.

"It's not kindling, it's Benzx No. 1'."

"You gave a name to wood?"

"Benzx No. 1' Anyways, what do you think about that kindling? I think it's quite wonderful."

Miss Olivia firmly shook her head.

"I don't like it."

"But I haven't said anything yet."

"You're going to make it again, aren't you?"

Miss Olivia was quick to catch on where she didn't need to be.

I countered her assumption, knowing that I needed to change her perspective now so that she would enjoy the test driving later.

If she unwrapped it and didn't like it, that would be a problem too, so I began my persuasion, keeping in mind the cost of 3 million gold.

"This new model is different."

I included a hint of mania.

"Created with the latest magical technology and significant capital investment"

It wouldn't be proper to let the soul-child product of the investor and the possessed end up rotting in a warehouse unseen by the world.

"A full 3 million"

"3 million?"

Miss Olivia was unusually quick today. To avoid further questions, I pushed another piece of chocolate into her mouth.

"Ugh, sweet."

"That's alright. Its the best to eat a lot at times like this."

Miss Olivia nodded and bit into the chocolate.

"Anyway, this new model is different. It's a finely prepared piece that I dare say will satisfy Miss Olivia."

Miss Olivia asked me:

"Its not made of wood like last time, is it?"

"Don't even compare it to that trash. It will be made of mithril for maximum comfort"

"Mithril?"

"No, intricately wrought steel for a pleasant design, and it will be in black, which I know is to Miss Olivia's taste among the nobility these days."

Miss Olivias eyes shone with interest.

"Ooh" she said, putting down the chocolate. It seemed she was close to being convinced.

I continued my passionate speech to Miss Olivia.

"Is it faster than a carriage?"

Indeed, it seemed Miss Olivia had an eye for vehicles. I stood tall and confidently asserted.

"Of course, wouldn't you think?"

"Ooh! And does it shoot fireballs too?"

"If it couldn't do that, I wouldn't have even mentioned it."

Miss Olivia's eyes sparkled with excitement. Her eyes resembled those of a poor man in a used car dealership, enticed by the allure of full financing on a foreign car.

She was almost persuaded.

In a previous life, I should've been a used car dealer, not an office worker. If I had realized my talent for negotiations sooner, I could've quickly escaped the life of convenience store triangle kimbap.

Miss Olivia was falling for my eloquent sales pitch.

"Then can it climb mountains with that?"

"The mountains?"

"Yes, the air is better there."

"Do you want to hike?"

Miss Olivia, gazing at the sunny Hamel Mountains, shook her head.

"No, it's too tiring and I don't want to."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Aren't there chocolate trees on the mountain? Fresh chocolate seems like it would taste better."

"There's no such thing."

Miss Olivia, having lost interest, clicked her tongue. It's unnecessary, she observed.

She then looked up at the blue sky and asked one last question.

"Can it fly too?"

"No. That would only be possible for Arch-mages, wouldn't it?"

"It cant do that?"

"..."

I'll have to consult the investor.

Judging by Miss Olivia's reaction, she seemed to enjoy the concept. An astronomical amount of money had been spent compared to the first prototype, and given the dismal state of its predecessor, the expectations could only rise higher.

Perhaps it's a stroke of luck that the first creation was a failure.

Thankfully, this unintentionally laid the groundwork with Miss Olivia.

She looked at me, or rather, at my right hand to be exact. Glancing at my right hand, which was still heavily bandaged today, she lowered her gaze to the floor and murmured softly,

"I'll ride it since Ricardo's arm hurts."

As a butler, I could not just pass by Miss Olivia's downtrodden statement. Slipping the mittens around my neck and muttering, I crouched down to meet her eyes.

"Why are you squatting like that? Do you think I am unable to carry someone of your size?"

Miss Olivia nodded.

"Yes. I'm heavy, after all."

"No, you are incredibly light."

Miss Olivia, shaking her head, told me not to lie.

"Ricardo once called me a pig. You said I was heavy and fat. What if your arm hurts?"

She was a very considerate master.

Up to this point, I was easily able to lift Miss Olivia. My dulled senses were gradually returning, and my resistance to dark magic seemed to have increased the discharge from my hand and the cracked scars were both slowly fading.

Thinking that it might take a short month or at most a year for my right hand to recover, I waved my hand at Miss Olivia to show that she need not worry.

"It's fine. Although Miss Olivia is very slightly heavy, I can manage to lift you."

"That's a lie."

"If I am lying, then tomorrow at sunrise, I'll take you to meet your friends in the forest."

"..."

Miss Olivia spread her arms wide.

Go ahead then, try to carry me.

Challenging me with the assertion that she was heavy and that I'd be shocked if I tried to lift her, I responded with a light laugh and presented my back.

-Huwaaa!

Miss Olivia climbed onto my back with a loud noise.

She was lighter than a tuft of cotton. If Miss Olivia felt heavy, I might as well quit being a knight or a butler and just retire for recovery. I wasn't that worn out yet.

Just as I was about to give Miss Olivia a triumphant smile to show her,

-Mshooo!

I felt an unusually vivid sensation against my back.

"Oops"

Ah, surely not. No way.

My eyes trembled as I looked back at Miss Olivia. I saw her pale face, taking in deep breaths, trying to make herself lighter.

It was supposed to be a hilarious situation

I felt like laughing because it was so cute.

But this

Uh

"Miss Olivia."

"Wah! (What!)"

"Well"

Miss Olivia, holding her breath, urged me.

"Hry uuhp! Mm Sffcating (hurry up, I'm suffocating)."

"Well by any chance, Miss Olivia..."

Did you forget to put on your underwear?'

I couldn't bring myself to voice such an explicit question. Instead, it was the black underwear stuck in the corner of the bed that answered for me.

Underwear of a villainous size.

Hmm.

I gently placed Miss Olivia back onto the bed.

"I concede."

"I Knew it!"

Leaving the self-declaring dieter behind, I quickly fled the room to cool my flushed face.

***

On the way to visit the friends in the forest.

-Rururuk

Riding in the handcart, Miss Olivia wore a pleasant smile. It was a common sight on the streets, the handcart. Miss Olivia, riding in it, looked around gleefully.

"This is fun."

"Miss Olivia."

"Hmm?"

"Why don't you just let me carry you?"

I spoke cautiously to Miss Olivia, dressed in a black gown, having made herself up on this rare occasion to go out, but now sitting in a handcart.

She had pulled her hat deeply over her face, trying to hide as much as she could, but it was impossible to avoid the gazes of the people directed at us.

Miss Olivia then said to me,

"It's not okay if your arm hurts."

"Aren't you uncomfortable? And the people are looking"

Miss Olivia replied, pressing down her hat even further,

"It's okay. That's better than Ricardo being in pain."

My heart swelled with warmth.

Compared to her first time out, Miss Olivia seemed less concerned about people's stares, but a rapid change was impossible. Whenever we might meet someone's gaze, she'd flinch, pressing her hat even deeper.

Although we were traveling to places without people, it was impossible to avoid the gaze of one or two passers-by on the streets. I feared this rare outing might become a regrettable memory.

She would protest if I offered to carry her. If I did not suggest going out, she'd scold me for not keeping my promise. As her butler, I yearned to always do what was best for her.

We need to hurry.

And I was about to pick up the pace until I overheard a conversation between a father and child passing by.

-Dad that looks like fun.

-Indeed

Hmm?

-Dad used to play like that too.

-Really? Let me try too!

-No, dad's back hasn't been too good lately

-Why!

I recalled that, in the past, I'd also played like this.

Riding the handcart, pretending to be a king,

Speeding down a slope too quickly and getting hurt.

Paradoxically, by brazenly drawing attention and moving on, it appeared to others as playful escapades of an immature noble lady.

"If you can't avoid it, enjoy it." the saying suddenly sparkled in my mind.

I felt a surge of confidence.

I threw a meaningful remark at Miss Olivia.

"Miss Olivia, isn't this too slow?"

"Huh?"

"Don't you want to go a bit faster?"

"?"

Miss Olivia looked at me with shaky eyes.

"Ah no?"

I pressed her hat down firmly and grabbed the handle of the handcart, and remembering a certain rubbery pirate, stated,

"Gear Fourth!" 

"Eh?"

-Hwaeek!

A scream from Miss Olivia echoed across the path.