It was evening.
Sarah and Asmodeus were lounging at a sleek wooden table in the garden behind the mansion.
She clipped his nails and painted them black, all the while relaying everything the house staff talked about behind his back.
Even though it was related to him, Asmodeus didn't seem the least bit interested. He was busy reading the ledgers of his gambling houses.
Regardless, Sarah continued, searching for even the slightest reaction.
It wasn't like Asmodeus wasn't aware of what she was doing. He knew very well how hard she tried to earn his interest every second of every day. But it didn't seem like she was aware of it herself. It was more of an instinctive behavior.
Asmodeus did not confront her; he let her be.
There was nothing for him to be concerned about. If anything, such a servile attitude was beneficial to him.
She had shown her eagerness through a multitude of scenes. She peeled his fruits, brewed his tea, and kept him company at night.
