The Evil Woman I Served for 13 Years Is Very Regretful

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The lady reached out her hand toward me.

"Show me."

"What would you like to see?"

"Your hand."

The lady spoke, looking at my right hand hidden behind my back.

"I don't understand what you mean."

Pretending ignorance, I whistled, and the lady responded by throwing her beloved yellow rubber duck at me.

-Quack-

The rubber duck met its dramatic end.

I picked up the fallen duck toy from the floor and threw it back at the lady.

"Quack!"

This time the sound of a heroic fall came from the lady herself.

She glared at me with ferocity.

She outstretched her hand and made a beckoning gesture. It's not like I'm some dog that needs to give a paw.

I, too, crossed my arms and demonstrated my resolve to resist. How dare she try to look at my body so casually. This isn't how things are done in the land of the dignified East… well, never mind that.

Anyway.

I could not indulge the lady this time.

"Give me your hand."

"I refuse."

"Give it."

"I said no."

It was like a stalemate, reminiscent of playing 'boribori rice,' a game of exchange.

The lady reached out to grab my hand, and I kept her at a teasing distance while escaping her grasp, making it feel like we were playing 'boribori rice.'

As it is known, in 'boribori rice,' offense dominates defense. As a former master of 'boribori rice' who had turned kids' foreheads into unicorns with flicks, dodging the languid lady's attempts was easier than drawing tears from children.

The lady looked at me with pouting indignation.

It seems she didn't like being toyed with.

"Why are you hiding?"

"There's chocolate in the fridge."

"Oh…! Right."

Misdirection about the hidden treasure trove. I caught on to the lady's attempt to change the subject and shook my head vigorously.

"No! Not chocolate, I'm talking about your arm. I definitely saw it!"

She definitely saw it?

I thought she hadn't.

Usually slow, this was one of those times when her perceptiveness seemed sharper than a sword master's.

I hastily hid my hand behind my back, but in that fleeting moment, it seems the lady had seen the scars on my arm.

One piece of good news is that she didn't see them exactly.

It appears she only saw a vague silhouette through my wet shirt, as her gaze was still fixed on my wrist.

I thought maybe I could naturally brush it off.

Not knowing about it was a good thing for both the lady and me. After all, it's better to let sleeping dogs lie.

I contemplated excuses to tell the lady in my head, but under her piercing psychic assault, I couldn't easily come up with lies.

'I need to make up a good excuse.'

A clumsy excuse would make it all the more easy for the lady to notice.

But why would she be curious about it?

I awkwardly brushed my right hand at my back once more.

The dark silhouette turned murky from being wet. It was inexplicably curious, but not something worth staking a life on.

Neither a tattoo symbolizing the heretics.

Nor one representing Yuria's fan club.

Nor a tattoo detailing the family's secret.

Just a repulsive-looking scar, nothing more.

Especially. A scar I hope the lady would never have to see.

Both unsightly and unwanted.

Of course, I knew it would be discovered someday.

It wouldn't be proper to always wear long sleeves.

I thought when the scar faded with time, I'd casually reveal it while working and say I had been injured—a wound to which she would eventually understand when it gets faint enough. I didn't expect to be caught like this.

But luckily.

I had prepared excuses in advance.

I had come up with excuses while cleaning the mansion, just in case.

Whether the lady believes this way or that, I could show a plausible reaction.

If she says it's dirty.

-I haven't bathed; that's why.

If she questions why there's such a big spot on my arm.

-There's a huge birthmark on my forearm.

If she says it's scary.

-Gasp. There lives a black dragon on my right hand…

With such excuses, I was not scared. Of course, my heart was pounding madly, but it was a matter I could smoothly deal with.

The lady was reaching out to me.

And I was awkwardly hiding my hand.

Our awkward gazes crossed, and after about a minute of silence, the lady who couldn't wait any longer spoke up first.

"Ricardo."

"Yes."

"The truth is, I already know."

She said she knew.

I swallowed dryly.

How long has she known?

I didn't show any signs.

Usually, I wore a shirt that was not easily seen through. I was admittedly hot, but I always wore a shirt that wouldn't reveal anything, even under light moisture like sweat. How did the lady figure it out?

Countless thoughts raced through my head. Getting caught was not a scenario I had considered.

If indeed I were caught.

The atmosphere in the mansion would have been quite poor.

Tension swirled in the bath.

The lady spoke to me with cold eyes.

"You know, Ricardo, humans are creatures who make mistakes."

"Yes."

"And they have secrets that cannot be told."

"That's true."

"See, sometimes, like me, you might hit someone or even cause someone to go bald in a quarrel."

"That might be taking it too far."

The lady opened her eyes ferociously.

"Listen to me."

For just this moment, she felt like the youngest daughter of the Desmond family. The conversation might befit a confession in church, but the aura and intimidation she exuded were like those of the Desmond family head.

The lady said,

"I have my own secrets to keep."

"The lady does?"

"Yes."

The lady rustled her chest again.

"Actually, I stole some chocolate today."

"?"

She smiled while showing me the melting chocolate.

"A whole three pieces."

The lady laughed mischievously.

I genuinely wanted to flick her on the forehead.

-Under the bed.

-Between the pillow covers.

-Inside her hair.

As she continued to reveal the locations of her emergency rations, I had a hunch.

The lady was looking in the wrong direction.

I was a fool to be nervous.

The lady has always been oblivious. When everyone talks about black bean noodles, she's the one shouting for spicy seafood noodle soup on her own.

That's why I was a fool to think she had noticed something.

My previously tense mind started to run actively again.

Lying in the tub, having turned into a blob, the lady slowly opened her mouth.

"Ricardo, you got a tattoo, didn't you?"

As expected, the lady was barking up the wrong tree. I felt at ease, seeing her consistent behavior.

"…"

"You got a tattoo, right? Are you hiding it because I hate tattoos?"

"Did I really get caught?"

With an awkward smile, the lady grinned, apparently believing her deduction was correct.

The lady was pleased, her curiosity resolved.

I awkwardly scratched my head.

I started a wholehearted performance to avoid suspicion and make her believe she had 'caught me.'

"Was it very noticeable?"

"Yeah. It was hard pretending not to know."

"I tried my best to hide it, but I guess the lady's eyes can't be deceived."

"Of course. Who do you think I am?"

The lady patted her chest.

I was thankful that she took the bait.

Now that it had come to this, I had to be sure to deceive the lady thoroughly.

The moment a lie is believed as the truth, turning the falsehood into reality isn't so difficult.

And since I was the only one who knew about this scar, as long as I kept quiet, there was no issue.

Fabrication was no problem at all.

I smoothly lied, coming up with a story on the spot.

"I got a tattoo without the lady's knowledge a while ago."

"Right?"

"I apologize for hiding it. I got a rather odd tattoo that I couldn't just show around."

"Hmm… Really? Since when did you have it?"

The lady asked a sharp question.

"About… a year ago?"

"Yikes! You had it that long ago?! You butler! How could you keep it hidden for so long!"

Feeling betrayed, the lady threw a rubber duck.

-Quack-

I dodged it again.

"That attack was quite vicious."

I gave her a thumbs-up, and she hissed in frustration, venting her anger.

"Next time, you'll get hit."

"Sorry. Dodging poor attacks is a habit of mine."

"Eek!"

It was about time to leave the bathroom.

Three hours after the lady had submerged herself in the tub, she now had a somewhat otherworldly presence you wouldn't quite call human.

The lady, turned into something akin to a slime, seemed to have forgotten all about the tattoo.

-Splash splash-

The lady was throwing her rubber duck against the wall, playing catch by herself.

-Quack!-

"Hii-YAH!"

-Quack!-

"Ho-Hii-YAH!"

With each contact against the wall, the rubber duck made progressively more pitiful squawks. Paying respects to the toy duck suffering at its master's hands, I got up from my spot.

"Where are you going?"

"I will get a towel."

"Towel?"

The lady looked at me quizzically.

At the mention of a towel, she was on high alert, like a cat with its fur standing on end.

But I couldn't back down.

I had to clock out and go home now.

I communicated my intention to the lady with simple gestures.

Pointing at her.

'You'

Then pointing outside the door.

'Will leave.'

And then pointing at the floor.

'Right now.'

"Eek!"

She threw the rubber duck at me yet again.

***

Seated on the bed, the lady entrusted her hair to me.

She wanted me to dry it using my aura.

A true waste of premium labor. If Hanna saw this scene, she'd probably shriek and drag Olivia away.

Controlling aura finely enough for such tasks was anything but simple.

Even a Sword Master cannot do what I'm doing right now. But does the lady appreciate my greatness?

The lady, who mumbled contentedly with drowsy eyes, didn't seem to have a clue.

"Ooo… it's nice."

"Is it nice?"

"Yeah."

While drying her hair.

The lady asked inattentively.

"Ricardo."

"Yes?"

"Can I ask about the tattoo?"

It was unusual for the lady to ask so politely.

Typically, she would have demanded, 'Show me!'

I was touched that she seemed grown-up, leaning into me and asking so formally.

"Showing it seems difficult…"

"Uh huh, I won't look. No. I don't want to."

"Is that so?"

"I hate tattoos."

I felt a sting when she said she hated it.

It was like watching a daughter run away from her bearded father, which hurt my heart.

Inwardly, I pondered deeply.

How did my scar come to be?

It was cracked like a drought-stricken land, and there were black burn marks in places. It resembled what, exactly?

Since the best lies are rooted in truth, I was determined to give a believable excuse.

After about three minutes of thinking.

I thought of the most similar thing I could come up with.

"Tree bark."

The lady looked at me.

Her expression oddly changed. The look she gave me seemed very different from when she was bathing.

As she looked at me, her face appeared as if she might cry.

Why was she behaving like this?

Perhaps I brushed the hair too forcefully.

Lost in various thoughts and unable to move easily.

The lady asked me with a repressed voice.

"Why?"

"Just because."

I had thought of the closest resemblance.

I didn't expect her to ask why.

I replied plausibly to the lady's question.

"Just, because it's strong and solid. It gives shade too."

"Really?"

The lady nodded her head.

"It's like you."

The lady, who answered me, stared blankly at the ceiling.

The lady had been gazing blankly at the ceiling for a while now. I asked her in a soft voice.

"What are you looking at so intently?"

"Huh? Oh, it's nothing."

The lady dismissed the question.

"Just…"

-A quest has arisen.

"Because tattoos are scary."

[Q. The Secret He Hides.]

On the day when the master he had served for 13 years collapsed, Ricardo was there.

Nobody knew what had happened that day, but.

Just one person,

Her butler, knew the truth about that day.

Ricardo intends to hide the events of that day forever. The secret that was to be quietly overlooked, without anyone else knowing.

(!) Unravel the secret of that day.

1. See the secret Ricardo hides. (0/1)

2. Touch the secret Ricardo hides. (0/1)

Reward: Access to read 〈Side Story 29〉 'The Man's Secret.'

Olivia knew everything.

You can read all 200 translated chapters for $20. +50 new episodes every month patreon.com/Overlord02