Chapter 55 55: “Ram… It's all for Rem that I'm doing this!”

Some time passed.

Breakfast. The manor dining room.

Natsuki Subaru sat back in his chair, mouth open and perfectly content, as Emilia carefully brought a small piece of sauce-drizzled cutlet to his lips.

The warmth of the food mingled with the faint, delicate scent still lingering on her fingertips, and it all melted together on his tongue.

Subaru chewed in satisfaction, letting his gaze drift across the two stunning maids flanking him.

Of course, in truth only the one on his right — Rem — was an actual maid.

Emilia, on the other hand, was being punished for what had happened that morning.

She had been made to change into a maid's uniform that didn't quite fit her — a little too snug, a little too tight — and this was her sentence.

The motions with which Emilia delivered each bite to Subaru's mouth were occasionally stiff in a way that was barely perceptible.

Every small shift of her body made her brow crease ever so slightly.

Beneath the clean white lines of her shortened maid skirt, which traced the curve of her waist so neatly —

— the tender, reddened skin of her bottom was being gently rubbed by the fabric with every movement, sending waves of maddening, itchy sensation rippling through her.

It forced Emilia to hold herself in a somewhat awkward posture, her weight subtly shifted toward Subaru's side.

Despite the discomfort, Emilia did her best to maintain her serving composure — dutifully blowing on each next bite to cool it before presenting it to Subaru.

On his other side, Rem moved with the smooth, practiced ease of a seasoned maid, unhurried and completely in her element.

She lifted the warm teacup at precisely the right moment.

Each time Subaru swallowed a mouthful of food, Rem's cup arrived soundlessly at his lips — temperature just right, fragrant steam curling upward.

And when she leaned in to offer the tea, the hem of her skirt swayed gently, carrying with it the clean, crisp scent of soap.

Beyond the two maids on either side —

Subaru also had a small girl settled squarely in his lap: Betty.

She was occupying that seat with the composed certainty of someone who knew it had always belonged to her — and always would.

Ever since the bond of their contract had been restored and drawn them back together the day before, the relationship between Subaru and Betty had bypassed all the long groundwork of reconnection.

It had simply snapped back — instantly — to the old closeness where the two of them were stuck together no matter where they went.

As the two maids attended to him from both sides, Subaru's hands were naturally free.

So he picked up the silver spoon from the table, scooped up a portion of the pudding dessert, and held it out to Betty — who cooperatively parted her little lips in anticipation.

The rich scent of cream swirled with the sweet fragrance of caramel as the spoon approached.

Betty closed her mouth around it without the slightest hesitation.

The smooth, silky texture and the sweetness blooming across her tongue made her narrow her eyes in pleasure.

Her small chin tilted upward just slightly, and a satisfied rumble rose in her throat.

Her whole body went loose with the contentment of being fed, and she sank deeper into Subaru's arms — completely enveloped by the furnace-warmth of his chest.

Among the four of them, she fed him, he fed her.

Each quietly doing their part — and somehow, improbably, the atmosphere was utterly harmonious.

Roswaal was absent, having wandered off somewhere as usual.

So in the dining room, beyond these four, there was only one other person — and she was very clearly out of place.

Ram stood silently in the corner of the room, her pink hair hanging loose, half-curtaining one eye.

The sharp gaze she wore as a matter of habit had gone somewhat blank — carrying, just barely, a faint glaze of bewilderment that was almost a little cute.

She stayed perfectly still, trying to reduce her own presence to nothing.

But she couldn't pull her eyes away from that dining table.

The scene unfolding in front of her was doing complicated things to her feelings.

Over there, Barusu was accepting the clumsy but wholehearted attentions of Lady Emilia on his left.

Enjoying the precise and thorough care of her little sister Rem on his right.

And cradling Betty in his lap like a satisfied cat, occasionally spooning dessert into her mouth.

The four of them together composed something that looked unnervingly like a warm, domestic family portrait.

And yet — the look in Ram's eyes when they landed on Natsuki Subaru was nothing short of contemptuous.

Just a short while ago, she had walked in on this man with her own two eyes — his hands all over Lady Emilia, the two of them hopelessly tangled together in that bedroom!

The image of his shameless, lecherous expression was still burned fresh into her memory!

And yet somehow, in the very next moment, here he sat — utterly unbothered, arms around women on both sides.

And he'd even managed to win over Lady Betty — aloof, proud Betty — just like that?

The speed of it was simply absurd.

The sheer outrageousness of how this story was unfolding left Ram feeling genuinely offended by its logic.

Her gaze drifted to her little sister Rem, and a flare of irritation rose in her chest.

Just yesterday afternoon, Rem had specifically sought her out for a talk — a private conversation between sisters.

Ram had assumed her sister was going to draw a clear line between herself and Barusu.

And then?

Every single thing out of Rem's mouth had been in that man's defense.

Her little sister was deep — hopelessly deep — in her feelings, and so Ram had done her utmost to talk some sense into her.

But Rem had only given vague, half-hearted agreements in response — and with a quiet, unshakeable stubbornness, had steered the conversation gently but firmly elsewhere.

This couldn't go on.

Ram's slender fingers quietly tightened around the hem of her maid skirt.

She couldn't just stand here and watch the little sister she treasured most in the world walk step by step into the sweet-looking trap that scoundrel Barusu had laid out for her.

Rem was too pure. And that man already had Lady Emilia by his side.

And now even Lady Betty…

How many people did he intend to rope in?

Ram's expression darkened.

And mixed into all of it — that nagging, indignant feeling of having been ignored herself.

It called to mind what happened yesterday morning, out on the garden lawn — when Barusu had snatched the plate from her and sent her away.

And then yesterday evening — when she had come to him full of eager anticipation, intending to teach him how to read and write.

She'd wanted to walk him, little by little, through the small stories tucked inside that fairy tale collection — stories she had written herself, drawn from her own experiences.

And what had happened? To avoid being taught, he had lied — claimed he already knew how to read and write.

What a joke.

Did he really think she didn't know whether or not Barusu could read? She of all people?

After all — hadn't it been her who had taught him to read in the first place?

A sudden, inexplicable impulse stirred inside Ram.

Not to stand in this ignored corner in silence any longer — but to walk right up to Natsuki Subaru.

To expose him with that very fact. To make him notice her. To make him squirm because of her.

And beyond that…

Even for Rem's sake, she couldn't keep standing on the sidelines.

Yes. For Rem's sake.

In that short span of time, Ram made up her mind.

The glazed look in her eyes sharpened back to its usual edge.

Then, without any warning, Ram moved.

She walked to the dining table and stopped beside Natsuki Subaru, standing just at his side.

The sudden movement instantly drew every eye in the room.

"Guest," Ram said, her voice cool and crisp.

Her gaze locked directly onto Natsuki Subaru, her pink irises carrying a look that was distinctly unfriendly.

"My, you really are a busy man, aren't you. Shall Ram also come and pour your tea and bring food to your mouth?"

"Or would you like Ram to join in as well?"

The corner of her mouth curved into a faint, razor-edged arc of mockery as she stared straight at the utterly baffled Natsuki Subaru.

At that, the hand in which Rem was holding the teacup tightened almost imperceptibly — the tips of her fingers going faintly white.

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