Melody continued to sip her tea, stealing glances at him every now and then. Each time she did, Michael felt his irritation stir, until it reached a point where he acted without thinking.
"I know what you and your parents are planning," he said, his emerald eyes locked onto her doll-like face.
"E-Eh!?" The cup, almost empty, slipped from her hands and shattered as it struck the ground. Melody's head whipped towards Michael, her expression one of a thief caught red-handed in the dead of night.
Instead of pressing the matter, Michael walked over to the shattered cup and began clearing the mess, opting to do it by hand rather than with magic. The task gave him time to let his words sink in.
A quick glance at Melody's face revealed the turmoil she was hiding. By the time he had finished clearing the debris, the girl had composed herself enough to respond.
"Whatever could you mean by that?" she asked softly.
"You know exactly what I mean, Melody," Michael replied, his tone calm. "I might seem young, but I understand noble society more than you might think."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said, crossing her arms.
But Michael could see through her lies in an instant.
"Your father needs an heir within the family," he said, casually walking over to a nearby armchair and sitting down. "He told me as much when we first sat down for dinner."
"You're lying…" Melody said, though her voice betrayed her uncertainty.
Michael shook his head. "If I remember correctly, this conversation happened after you excused yourself from the table," he commented.
"Your father even went as far as offering me a position—becoming a pillar of the Winterborne family. I believe those were his exact words."
Melody fell silent, taking in his words, her brows furrowing in thought.
"But that makes no sense… Why are you my butler then?" she asked, her voice soft, filled with confusion.
"Because I declined," Michael replied.
"What!? Why would you decline such a thing? Are you stupid?" she cried, shocked.
Michael laughed, not offended by her question. In fact, he felt somewhat foolish for not accepting the offer, especially now that he knew the Winterbornes weren't as virtuous as he'd once believed.
"Perhaps I am," he admitted. "But I didn't want to disappoint your father if my talent turned out to be… subpar. Since I have very little knowledge of magic, I was worried things might not work out as he intended."
Melody said nothing, her blue eyes carefully evaluating him.
"Anyway," Michael announced, crossing his leg over the other, "it seems your father thought of another way to tie me to the family… You know what I mean, right?"
"Marriage…" the girl whispered, lowering her head.
"Exactly," Michael said. "By me marrying into the family, not only would the Winterbornes gain a potential Verdant mage, but they wouldn't have to hand their daughter off to another noble family."
He tapped his finger against the armrest of his chair, a wry smile playing at the corner of his lips.
"Quite a brilliant plan, if you ask me," he added.
"So, you know… Now what do you want?" Melody asked, after a long silence.
Eh? What do I want?
The question from Melody suddenly made Michael realize how impulsive his decision to voice his knowledge had been. He didn't have a clear goal, and in hindsight, revealing that he knew about the arrangement might not benefit him at all.
"I… I guess I wanted to drop all pretenses," Michael said, scrambling for an explanation.
In reality, he felt uneasy about Melody's current behavior. The fact that she could barely look at him and acted so differently than when they first met made him uncomfortable.
Just who was the real Melody? Was she the immature, pompous noble who had driven her last personal servant to exhaustion? Or was she this coy, reserved girl sitting in front of him?
"Drop all pretenses, huh?" Melody repeated, her blue eyes scrutinizing him intently.
Ah man… Have I gone and put my foot in it? Michael lamented, realizing his mistake.
If the arrangement had been left unsaid, they could have danced around the issue, avoiding any wounded pride or moral conflicts. But now that he'd said it aloud, things were bound to change.
A crooked smile crept onto Melody's lips. "Thank the gods!" she exclaimed, "Putting on such an act was exhausting."
Eh?
Michael blinked, unsure if she was joking or serious. He watched as she raised her hands above her head and stretched deeply, before slouching back in her chair and throwing noble etiquette completely out the window.
"You know, I'm quite surprised you figured it out, Michael," she praised, propping one leg atop the other as she lounged. "I was certain I'd have you smitten by the time we left for Arcadia Academy."
Michael was too stunned to respond. He had suspected that Melody might be acting, but this—this was something else entirely. Was it possible that this was her true personality?
"Sorry to disappoint you," he replied, trying to mask his shock.
She waved her hand dismissively. "It's no matter. In fact, this might actually be better... Provided you don't intend to go against the arrangement, of course." Her tone lowered as she shot him a dangerous glance.
Michael suppressed the shudder that crawled up his spine.
"I don't want to be married off to some other noble family, as you can imagine," Melody explained casually. "So, when my mother offered an alternative, I made my decision quickly."
"As for you," she continued, her eyes scanning him with a hint of appraisal, "I guess you're quite handsome—though a little scrawny." She shrugged nonchalantly. "But it's not like you're getting the short end of the stick."
She suddenly sat up, leaning forward in her chair. "Not only do you get to stay in the manor, but you'll also get to attend Arcadia Academy, the number one academy in the nation."
"Pretty sweet deal, right?" she said, her crooked smile returning.
"Of course," she added with a teasing glint in her eyes, "becoming the husband of yours truly is the true prize."