Betrothed to My Sister's Ex

This morning's breakfast consisted of potato and cheese galettes, thick-cut ham, and consomme soup. First, I arranged ceramic plates on the table and poured soup from a pot on the wagon.

“Don’t spill it on your clothes. Stay a little back.”

Saying that, the one who surprisingly served with quite skillful hands was none other than Lord Cyrus, the count of Granado Castle. I accepted the plate in a daze, ate silently, and finished everything.

“...Thank you for the meal...”

“Hmm. Then, I’ll brew some tea for after the meal.”

“...Ah, um... well...”

“Don’t worry. I'm not as good as Mio or Wolfgang, but I can at least brew tea properly.”

“Well, that’s... fine. But more than that... um... Lord Cyrus, about the maid... ”

“Hm?”

Two plates were set on the table. Lord Cyrus, as he was about to pull out a chair, looked down at me with curiosity.

“Lately, Mio should be joining us for tea as well, right?”

“Th-that's not what I meant. Well—about the maid, you see...”

I hesitated, and he tilted his head, letting out an “Ah,” then smiled gently.

“You thought a maid’s uniform is a black one-piece dress with a white apron, right? Haha, that’s not possible. The size wouldn’t fit.”

“I think it’s impossible in many other ways too.”

My complaint was brushed off with a look that said, “What?” Maybe he really intended to wear it if it fit.

But it’s hard to say that his current outfit suits him either. It’s a common butler’s suit: an elegant white blouse with frills and black trousers. Yet it’s just barely wearable—the sleeves and length are too short. Although Lord Cyrus is slim, he apparently has quite a bit of muscle in his shoulders, chest, and neck. The collar and sleeve buttons were left undone, and his loop tie dangled like a pendant.

...Through the gaps in the white fabric, his sinewy wrists and tanned, robust physique could be seen.

I was at a loss where to look—no, I quickly averted my eyes and shouted.

“A-maids are women who serve as attendants, right!? Lord Cyrus is a man, so he can’t be a maid! At least be a butler!”

“Ah, that’s true. But my wish is different from being a butler, and I don’t want to be a footman either. And as for housekeeper, even if I wanted to, I couldn’t do it.”

Because my question was somewhat off the mark, I got an offbeat answer. I guess it showed on my face that I didn’t understand at all, so he explained while counting on his fingers.

“To put it simply, a butler is a secretary who supports the master’s tasks. A maid takes care of the master’s daily life. A footman is a versatile servant, and a housekeeper manages the building. The chief chamberlain oversees all of them. —That’s how the roles are divided in this castle.”

“...I think I roughly understand...”

“You can’t say which is superior between a butler and a maid. From a work perspective, the butler is higher, but for personal and emotional reliance, it’s the maid. Especially when the mistress is a woman, there are many things a male butler can’t do. In fact, Marie is much closer to Mio than Wolfgang, right?”

I nodded in response, taking the offered tea.

“Yes, we spend a lot of time together... I’d say Mio is the closest friend I have in this castle.”

“That’s it. I want to be the person Marie is closest to.”

He said it so casually, so naturally, and as if it was a self-evident truth that it took me several seconds to stop choking on my tea. It was just a little, so nothing spilled, but I gasped and found it hard to breathe. Lord Cyrus smiled brightly as he handed me a handkerchief.

“Are you okay? That was still hot, wasn’t it?”

cough cough “I’m fine, but... cough... what? What!?”

“No matter what you say, it’s still the same. If you’re uncomfortable with the word ‘maid,’ then, how about ‘attendant’?”

Ignoring my continued confusion, Lord Cyrus stood up. Every time he moved, the loop tie swung over his bare collarbone. I couldn’t help but keep looking at it, feeling dizzy. Ah, this must be hypnosis—I must be seeing an illusion.