I Raised the Villain’s Daughter Too Well

Seeing the way my face was falling apart, Maclaine gave a bitter smile and added:

“It’s true that she’s an exceptional person. She reached Third Rank by the age of ten. However… she still throws little tantrums from time to time, as a child her age would.”
“She’s ten? Wait, she’s really that young?”
“Hmm…”

Maclaine looked at me like he wanted to ask, “Do you even hear yourself?”
Feeling a little more at ease, I responded,
“If it’s because she’s young, that’s perfectly fine. I’m good with kids.”

“Then let me ask you something this time. Are you really ten years old? That’s what was written on the application.”
“What fool would lie about something like that?”
“Truly astonishing. If it’s true, then that’s a heaven-sent talent.”

Maclaine looked at me with a soft smile.
From that gaze, I sensed a subtle ambition—and instinctively took a step back.
Should I report him?

“Please be careful. I’d rather not see you ruined.”
“…Yes, thank you for the warning.”
I figured he was just saying that.

What orders could a ten-year-old possibly give me? Something like, “Climb that tree and fetch me fruit,” right?
I realized how wrong I was—exactly one day later.
 

****
“You’re Virdem?”
“Yes, my lady. I am Virdem of the Serbus family.”
A hill where the apple trees were in bloom.

I knelt down before the master I would serve for the next ten years.
“Lift your head.”
I raised the head I’d lowered so stiffly.

There stood Firnea.
Short silver hair, blue eyes, soft round cheeks that still held traces of baby fat—a cute little girl.
There was already a hint of the femme fatale she’d one day become, but for now, she was simply a child.

“Hmm…”
Firnea inspected me like she was evaluating livestock, then—
“You’re not very good-looking.”

—blurted it out.
…I staggered, forgetting that Maclaine was standing right next to her.
They say children don’t lie.

But me, ugly?
After reincarnating, the thing I liked most about myself was my pretty face.
As I tried to keep myself steady, the next blow hit even harder.

“What can you do?”
“…Anything you wish, my lady. I will prove myself.”
I pulled myself together, smiled gently, and expressed confidence.

I had poured countless hours into becoming a butler.
Even if her orders were childish—or came from some elderly tyrant—I would carry them out perfectly.
But then—

“Show me magic.”
“…Pardon?”
“Magic. I’m Third Rank already. What about you?”

“F-Forgive me, but I have not walked the path of magic.”
“Seriously? You’re not that great, then.”
And just like that, I was shattered.

As Maclaine watched my tragic fall, he quickly stepped in.
“Ah, my lady. Most butlers are not capable of using magic. If you wish, we can assign a royal mage to serve you—”
“Royal mage?”

Firnea pondered for a moment, then delivered the final blow.
“Could I have him as my butler instead?”
Three minutes.

My entire sense of pride was trampled in just three minutes of conversation.
“Using royal mages as butlers isn’t really—”
“—I’ll do it.”

Both Maclaine and Firnea looked at me in shock at my serious tone.
I looked Firnea straight in the eye and said,
“What kind of magic would you like to see, my lady?”

“You just said you don’t know magic.”
“I will learn.”
“…Are you stupid?”

“Please, just give me one chance.”
I bowed once again.
It would be too much of a waste to get kicked out now.
—More than anything, I wanted to repay her.

This bold little girl who’d dismissed me.
“I will never disappoint you.”
“Hmm…”

Firnea stared at me with amusement for a moment, then held out her right hand.
—Fwsh! A blue flame ignited in her palm.
It was unmistakably magic. I was so amazed by its beauty, I forgot where I was.

“Ignition. Learn it within a month.”
“As you command.”
“You do know what’ll happen if you don’t, right?”

“Yes.”
On my way out, Maclaine summoned other butlers to attend to Firnea and quickly rushed to me.
Now that we were in a butler-chief relationship, I bowed in greeting, and he looked at me in disbelief.

“V-Virdem… You knew how to use magic?”
“No. I’ve never studied it.”
“???”

“So I’ll start now. May I borrow some magic books?”
“…Are you insane!? Just because Lady Firnea used it easily doesn’t mean magic is something simple! She’s a once-in-a-millennium genius! Ninety percent of humanity can’t even sense the flow of mana in their lifetime!”
“I’ll just hope I’m part of the remaining ten percent. So… may I borrow those books?”

“…”
Seeing the resolve on my face, Maclaine shook his head.
“You’re reckless. Just like the Young Lady.”

“I… I’ll take that… as a compliment…”
With Firnea as my master and Maclaine behind me, I devoured magic tomes like a madman.
Unfortunately, the boundless talent that had made me a butler prodigy didn’t help me here.

Apparently, my gifts were limited strictly to butler work.
But—
—Fwsh.

“…It’s been two weeks, my lady.”
I paid off my sleep debt in advance.
Standing tall before her, I lit a small flame above my palm.

It wasn’t very impressive. Dark circles clung to my eyes, and I had tissue stuffed in my nose.
The flame was barely as big as a candle.
But the important thing is—I did it.

“It’s too small.”
“S-Still… I did it, didn’t I?”
“Yeah, I guess so. Hmm… I’ll let you be my butler.”

Firnea waved her hand dismissively, as if she wasn’t particularly pleased, and issued what could only be called a dismissal.
I bowed my head low and left the room.
Outside, Maclaine was waiting with a look of pity in his eyes as he offered some words of advice.
"You have talent, no doubt. But the Young Lady… she’s an unparalleled genius."

I knew it was just lip service.
So, I clenched my teeth.
"—Let’s see how far I can take this."

"Hm? Take what?"
I took an advance on my salary.
I bought every book related to ignition that didn’t already exist in the mansion and spent a full 24 hours reading them, literally without rest.

The basic idea of magic, as far as I could grasp in such a short time, boiled down to the act of understanding.
Understanding the structure of phenomena, manipulating mana to reconstruct that structure, and then manifesting it.
I wasn’t a genius.
But when it came to pure understanding, an adult mind had an advantage over a child’s.
I supplemented my lack of talent with the memory and knowledge from my previous life, driving myself mercilessly.

—Fwoooosh!
"—It’s been three weeks, my lady."
I proudly ignited a flame.

A fire twice as large and powerful as Firnea’s.
"...Wow."
Firnea nodded slightly, seemingly a bit impressed.

"Amazing, you’ve got talent! I like you!"
"Haha, well, it’s nothing much..."
She grinned brightly as she praised me.

While I was rubbing my nose shyly, Firnea, still smiling, said something bizarre.
"That’s good enough. Now go practice swordsmanship."
"S-Swordsmanship, my lady?"

"Yeah, that’s right."
Firnea lifted the book she was holding.
On the cover, the title read—[War of the Knights].

"I want a knight."
"..."
I looked over at Maclaine.

He simply shook his head, as if to say there was nothing he could do.
 
****

If I had to sum up Lady Firnea in one word—
She was insane.
After I poured my heart and soul into learning swordsmanship from knights—

"Yaaawn, I’m bored. Want to try shooting arrows instead?"
She said that.
Because, apparently, she had just read a novel where the protagonist used a bow.

When I managed to hit the center ten times in a row thanks to the genetics I’d been born with—
"Wouldn’t it be easier to just launch ice spears? Can you chant an ice spear spell?"
If I then went through hell to learn ice spear magic—

"Virdem! Try fist-fighting an orc and win. No magic allowed. Ah, don’t worry! I bought the strongest one I could find!"
She pulled that nonsense.
For about half a year, I lived like a ◆ Nоvеlіgһt ◆ (Only on Nоvеlіgһt) circus clown or stuntman, doing whatever she whimsically demanded.

Thanks to that, the Young Lady—who at first looked at me as if I were some insect—eventually grew quite fond of me.
…Which only meant the amount of work I had to do kept growing.
And then one day, I opened my eyes to find myself lying in a hospital bed.
Maclaine sat nearby, looking down at me with a sorrowful expression.

"Mmph... Mmmph?"
What the hell—
I tore the bandages off my mouth and protested.
"Just asking... am I really a butler?"

Ever since I became a butler, I hadn't done a single butler-like task.
At this point, I had no idea why I even took the exam.
Maclaine let out a sigh and answered.

"Well… the Young Lady is a little lonely."
"Lonely?"
I tilted my head, not understanding.

"The master adores her to death. She has hundreds of maids who would obey any order—even to die. How could she possibly be lonely?"
"We’re not in the same position as the Young Lady."
"And what about the master?"

"...Well, think of it as a kind of trial. Who knows? Maybe the Young Lady sees you as someone her own age."
Maclaine’s words weren’t very comforting.
What kind of lonely person forces someone into hand-to-hand combat with a lion? That’s not loneliness—that’s psychopathy.

Besides, even if she was lonely, she still had the master and the maids.
And kids my age? They were either peasants playing in the dirt or just barely learning their letters.
The environment Firnea lived in was fundamentally different.
Maybe sensing my troubled thoughts, Maclaine shrugged.

"I’m not asking you to understand. Just endure it."
"...What does me enduring have to do with the Young Lady’s loneliness?"
"Who knows."

He gave a meaningful smile, pulled a cushioned chair closer, and sat down.
"You’re a peculiar one, Virdem. At least, you are to the Young Lady."