I Raised the Villain’s Daughter Too Well

The Seriratus family was located deep within a remote mountain range.

...No, that’s not accurate.
The entire mountain range itself was the Seriratus family.
"For what purpose have you come?"
"I came to take the butler exam."

"Did you bring your notification letter?"
"Here it is."
In Earth terms, the path would have been called a mountain trail, but here it was surrounded by a wall.
They had carved and cut the entire mountain into one colossal castle.

It wasn’t just big—it completely dwarfed the pyramids by size alone.
Starting from the midpoint of the castle, clouds covered the structure so that you couldn’t even see what it looked like.
As I was wondering if there was really any need for all this nonsense—it's not like dragons lived here—the notification letter came back stamped with a red seal.
"Confirmed.
This letter will serve as your guarantee for the one week during which you will take the exam.
After that, you must leave."

"Yes, sir."
Together with the other butler candidates who had also received their notification letters, I entered the mountain—no, the castle—and after walking for about twenty minutes, we came upon a building.
Unlike the other structures, this one had a distinctly Eastern aesthetic.
Upon seeing it, the candidates began to tense up.

"This is already my fourth time coming here, but I still get nervous."
"I'm on my seventh try, and it still drives me crazy."
...Well, if you weren't losing your mind after seven attempts, that would be stranger.

Inside the building was a long, rectangular table.
Next to the table were various everyday items: bowls, candlesticks, cutlery, handkerchiefs, and more.
Seeing the others naturally take seats, I followed and sat down as well.
"Ugh...
If I fail again this time, it’s confirmed—I’ll become a servant."

"Being a servant isn't so bad.
My brother became a servant and gets five vacations a month."
After about ten minutes of small talk, a white-haired old man entered, dressed impeccably in a suit.
The candidates all held their breath at the sight.
"Welcome, butler candidates.
I am Maclaine, the Butler Chief."

"T-The Butler Chief?!"
"Why is the Butler Chief himself overseeing the exam...?"
It seemed having the Butler Chief personally oversee the exam was an unusual occurrence.

Maclaine, who stood perfectly straight, inspected each of us one by one, and when his gaze briefly met mine, there was a flicker of curiosity.
But it quickly disappeared.
With a gentle yet firm tone, Maclaine began explaining the exam.
"This exam will test your response to real-life situations.
Would you all please step away from your chairs?"
The candidates immediately stood and stepped back from their chairs.

With a snap of his fingers, Maclaine summoned a group of girls dressed in cute maid outfits, matching the number of candidates, and they each sat down in a chair.
We ended up standing behind them.
"From this point onward, consider the maid in front of you to be your master.
If you have any concerns or are unprepared, please speak up now."

No one spoke.
"Very well. Then, prepare a dinner setting for a Four-Season Table."
"...?"

The candidates froze with confused expressions.
Naturally, the first to move was me.
If it’s a Four-Season Table, then it should be one large bowl, two side plates, no forks, a knife and a skewer, and the napkin folded into a flower shape.

"A-Ah!
You mean a meal setup!"
"Uh, wait—the napkin..."
Only after I had finished my setting did the others start moving.

However, most of them made mistakes—messing up the number of side plates, or choosing the wrong main bowl.
Some were still hesitating over the plates when Maclaine, without mercy, announced:
"Stop.
Next, please prepare a breakfast setting for a Four-Season Table."

Simple enough.
Remove the side plates, add a fork.
"Yup."
The moment I finished setting up, the maid in front of me suddenly tossed the knife I'd placed with a loud clink, complete with a cute sound effect.

...Are you kidding me?
The maid stared at me proudly, as if she had done nothing wrong.
I turned my head toward Maclaine, but there was no reaction—no correction.
So we had to handle unexpected situations as well.

Simply picking up the knife and placing it back would be the worst move.
Keeping eye contact with the maid, I asked gently:
"Young Lady, is there something you find unsatisfactory?"

"I don't like this knife."
"What kind of knife would you prefer?"
"One that cuts better."

Fetching a sharper knife wasn’t a good idea either.
In an official banquet setting, bringing out non-provided utensils would be considered extremely rude.
After a moment’s thought, I took the same knife, quickly sharpened it with a whetstone, and placed it back at the setting.

The maid seemed satisfied and didn’t throw the knife again.
"Stop.
Next scenario: a ball.
You have received a celebratory toast."
Clatter—the door opened, and maids wearing tiaras entered carrying glasses and wine.

"In celebration of this expedition's victory, we offer this toast.
Please enjoy."
The maid acting as my master had wine poured into her glass.
However, after sniffing it, she didn’t drink.

"Young Lady, does the wine not suit your taste?"
"It's too strong for me."
I looked around but didn’t see any water to dilute it.

Thinking for a moment, I checked the label on the wine bottle.
It was from the Yukarum region—a specialty wine known for its rich aroma.
In that case, it would be fine.
I exaggerated the swirling motion of the glass to dissipate some of the aroma.

"How is it now?"
"Hmm..."
The maid sniffed again and shook her head slightly.

"It's better than before, but honestly, I don't feel like drinking wine today."
So it was just pure whimsy.
She was forcing me to choose between disrespecting the toast and pressuring my master to drink.

I bowed slightly to the maid who had poured the wine.
"Forgive me.
My master seems to be unwell, so we will gratefully accept the sentiment without drinking."
"I will convey that."

Strictly speaking, refusing a celebratory toast was risky—
In a real situation, I might have been reprimanded.
But during major victories or joyous occasions, people were more likely to let it slide.
Besides, as a butler, my master’s mood should always come before my own safety.

The maid who had poured the wine left, and another maid entered, carrying four different glasses.
"Next, listen to the master's description of what they wish to drink, and select one of these four glasses."
...

I stared at the glasses for a moment and asked Maclaine:
"Should I choose seriously?"
"Yes, you must."

Clang!
In the middle of the exam, everyone’s eyes turned toward me.
Naturally so.
I had just knocked over all the glasses.

Then, I pressed the freshly sharpened knife against the neck of the maid who had brought them.
The candidates, their faces turning pale, rushed to stop me.
"H-Hey...!"
"What the hell are you doing?!"

The maid, however, wasn’t the least bit surprised.
Locking eyes with me, she asked calmly:
"Why are you doing this?"
"Bringing opaque glasses for drinks is an attempted assassination.
Since this is an exam, I’ll stop at a threat, but if this were real, you’d already be dead."

Most poisons don't completely dissolve in drinks.
Especially not in thick liquors or dense beverages.
That’s why all glasses used by nobles are made of clear glass — so that any sediment or impurities can be spotted when shaken.
I was confident in my judgment, but on the off chance that I had made a fool of myself, I glanced at Maclaine—

"...Ohh."
He was looking at me with clear surprise.
Apparently, I hadn’t made a mistake.

"You may let go now."
"Ah."
Only then did I realize I had grabbed the maid’s wrist tightly to stop her from escaping.

I released her and apologized.
"I apologize.
Even in an exam, it was inappropriate of me."
"You grabbed too hard. It hurt."

The maid stuck out her tongue and left.
Cute.
"Final task: listen to your master’s order and make a judgment."

I turned to face the maid.
The maid said nothing.
...?

"Young Lady, is there anything you wish to command?"
"No."
In other words—

She wanted something but didn’t want to say it outright.
I carefully observed her.
Arms crossed, legs crossed, tapping her foot.

Bathroom? No, if it were something that simple, they wouldn’t use it as an exam question.
This was now a game of twenty questions.
Only, in reality, you get far fewer chances.
If you keep asking, you’ll annoy your master.
At most three questions, ideally two or fewer.

Fortunately, I had a killer question ready.
"Recently, some master craftsmen from the capital have delivered their finest pieces.
Would you, by chance, like to try some on?"
"...!"

The maid, genuinely surprised, looked between me and Maclaine, then nodded.
"Um... Yes, I’d like to try them."
"…"

Maclaine’s reaction was even more entertaining.
Despite being in the middle of an exam, he approached me briskly, visibly stunned.
"H-How did you figure out it was about clothing on the first try?"

"Well…"
This was /N_o_v_e_l_i_g_h_t/ basically a trade secret.
I leaned in and whispered, covering my mouth with my hand:

"My father said that nine out of ten times, when a young lady is feeling uncomfortable for no apparent reason, it's because her outfit concept clashes with another lady’s."
"That can’t possibly—"
Maclaine began to object reflexively but then froze mid-sentence.
He stood there, lost in thought for a few moments.

Eventually, he gave a bitter chuckle and nodded.
"—You have an excellent butler for a father.
What is your name and family?"
"I am Virdem of the Serbus family."

"Virdem of the Serbus family..."
Maclaine nodded slowly after hearing my name, then said:
"I will remember you."

Me.
Pass.
Confirmed.