A Mastermind? No, I'm just the Live-In Son-in-Law-Chapter 69: Secret (2)

“...Tch. Whatever it is, looks like the master’s pissed.”

“Hey, boss... I dunno what’s going on, but... she’s just a kid. Go easy, alright?”

But as they hesitated at the doorway, their expressions seemed oddly grim.

...Why are they looking at me like I’m some kind of abusive tyrant?

Sure, I was a little rattled by the letter, but I’d only planned to talk to Parsha.

Just what kind of image do I have in their heads after the whole tournament?

“Parsha, those two are clearly misunderstanding so—”

“Master, it’s fine if you do whatever you want to me...!”

Just as I turned to explain, trying to correct the misunderstanding, Parsha raised a trembling hand and cut in with a surprisingly bold statement.

“But... I’d like to at least keep my dignity!”

“...Wait, what are you—?”

I spun to her in a panic, suddenly fearing the worst—but then I finally understood what she meant.

“...I just really need to use the bathroom.”

“Ah.”

Parsha, seated stiffly in her chair, was awkwardly twisting her legs together, trying to maintain a smile as she peeked at me.

“...Next time, you don’t need permission to go to the bathroom.”

“Haah—thank you!”

The moment I gave my blessing, her face lit up and she scurried out of the office at a near-run.

......

“Haa...”

Silence fell.

I let out a quiet sigh and opened the top drawer of my desk.

「The gift I’m leaving for my granddaughter is in the top drawer of your desk, young master.」

According to the very last part of Alfred’s letter, he’d left something inside.

“...Alfred, honestly.”

After a moment, I picked up the object with a faintly bittersweet smile and turned it over in my hands.

“What in the world happened to you...”

Inside the drawer was a monocle. These days, he hadn’t worn it much—his eyesight had deteriorated too far. But just ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ a few years ago, he never went anywhere without it.

When I’d asked him about it once out of curiosity, he’d said, “This monocle is the very essence of a butler’s soul.”

To entrust something like that to Parsha... Whatever’s going on, Alfred must be in serious trouble.

「Though there is no blood between us, ever since I rescued Parsha from the black mages’ hideout, I’ve raised her like my own granddaughter.」

The rest of the letter only deepened my unease.

「So if this old man no longer remains in this world, please consider this my retirement wish: take good care of Parsha.」

Leaving behind words that sounded almost like a will at his age... Of course I’d be worried.

I know how skilled Alfred is. But still—under circumstances like these, it’s impossible not to feel anxious...

「P.S. By the way, since it’s come to this... Master, you’re not seriously the Demon King, right? Because otherwise I can’t figure out why my granddaughter would be that loyal...」

“...Haha. Yeah, guess I should send this off soon.”

Just as concern was starting to twist my expression, I reached the most Alfred-like P.S. imaginable—and couldn’t help but laugh quietly.

If he really were in danger, he wouldn’t waste time with nonsense like this. He would’ve written down his location and the details of the threat.

Good grief. Senile old man...

“Eek.”

“...Ah.”

As I let my guard down and set the letter back on my desk, I caught sight of a maid who had probably walked in seconds ago—and clearly overheard my muttering.

With a calm smile, I tried to explain.

“You heard wrong just now, really—”

But judging by her ghost-white face, it was already too late.

If it had been Sasha, I might’ve been able to pressure her into keeping quiet with a glare. But now, another weird rumor was bound to spread around the estate.

“I-I don’t know what that was, but you—y-you need to come with me. Now!”

While I sat there internally screaming, the maid—still looking stunned—grabbed my arm in a panic.

“P-Parsha! In the bathroom...!”

“...?”

“She—she’s doing something to her shoulder—”

Only then did I realize her pale face wasn’t because she’d heard me talking to myself.

And once I understood what she was trying to say, I bolted out of the office.

“She—she’s trying to stab herself!!”

After hearing that, how could I not run?

***

–Clang!

The moment I reached the bathroom after sprinting from my office, I froze at the sound of metal clattering to the floor.

“Haa... Haa...”

Peeking inside, I saw exactly what the maid had described—Parsha, standing in front of the mirror, panting heavily.

Her shoulder had already been slashed multiple times—raw and bloodied—and the floor was stained with dark crimson.

“...M-Master...”

Frozen in place, all I could do was stare. Parsha turned at the sound of movement, flinching and stumbling back.

“What are you doing here all of a sudden...”

“I don’t think that’s the important part right now.”

Finally snapping out of it, I stepped into the bathroom with a tight expression—and Parsha, startled, began to stammer out words in a fluster that was so unlike her.

“I-I’m sorry. But I... I couldn’t help it.”

“......”

This translation is the intellectual property of Novelight.

“...That letter... it’s about my identity, isn’t it? I can tell.”

And only then did I start to fully understand why Parsha had done what she did.

“Was it from Grandpa? Or Lady Meredia? No—it doesn’t matter.”

“......”

“W-Whatever it says, it’s not true. Haha...”

Her usual smile was nowhere to be found. Her face had gone pale as paper, her breathing erratic, her pupils shaking with fear.

I’d seen that exact look plenty of times in my past life, especially in intensive care.

Post-traumatic stress disorder. Classic case.

The more cheerful someone seems on the outside, the deeper they tend to bury their darkness.

And if Alfred’s letter was to be believed... then Parsha’s darkness ran far deeper than I’d imagined.

“So please... please believe what I say instead—”

“...Parsha.”

Fortunately, thanks to my ICU experience, I had some idea how to handle situations like this.

“Let’s start by taking a deep breath, okay?”

“Haa...”

I stepped in slowly, crouching to her eye level and whispering softly. As she followed my words and exhaled deeply, a little color returned to her face.

“I’m... sorry.”

“...For what?”

“I just... I wanted to protect at least a shred of dignity. Not as your subordinate, but as a person.”

But her next words made it clear: she wasn’t alright at all.

“...You’re disappointed, aren’t you? Of course you are.”

“......”

“Trusting something like me, a former lab rat... Honestly, even I think it’s ridiculous.”

Her voice had steadied. Her expression too. But her words were still thick with self-loathing.

“To be honest, I’m not even that smart, like you guessed.”

“Haha...”

“I just force my vision to project possible futures and slap on half-baked guesses that line up with what I see.”

For someone who could finish a week’s worth of paperwork in a day to say that—Parsha must’ve suffered more than I’d ever imagined.

“So... so...”

“Parsha.”

Sure, I’d had similar experiences myself. But even then, I didn’t want to say I understood her pain.

Because even if two people’s suffering looks alike, it’s never truly the same.

Still—genuine empathy, spoken with sincerity, was always the best remedy for wounds of the heart.

The source of this c𝓸ntent is frёeweɓηovel.coɱ.

“You don’t have to let it all out at once.”

“Ah...”

And with that, I gently pulled the trembling Parsha into my arms, lowering my voice as I whispered.

“If, someday, you feel ready... then you can tell me everything. I’ll be here to listen.”

Her trembling slowly began to ease.

“...You’re not disappointed in me?”

“Haha. You know something, Parsha?”

Hearing her muffled voice from where she hid her face against my chest, I smiled and whispered again, even more gently.

“The most important skill for a leader... is knowing not to lose good people.”

It might not be the perfect answer—but it was the best I could give her right now.

“I’m not letting the world’s best butler slip away over something as meaningless as a bit of old history.”

“...!”

“...This is a gift. From me to you.”

And just in time, I remembered the monocle Alfred had left in the drawer. I’d absentmindedly shoved it into my pocket earlier.

I carefully placed it in her hand.

“It’s about time you took your official post as head butler. Consider this a special inauguration gift.”

It pricked my conscience a bit, using Alfred’s gift like this—but I was sure he’d forgive me if it gave her strength.

“...This is a first.”

As I tried to shake the image of a pouting Alfred from my mind, Parsha began tracing her fingers along the monocle, whispering softly.

“Normally... just looking at you makes my heart ache.”

“......”

“But right now... it’s all warm and tingly. I’ve never felt this before.”

For the first time in a while, Parsha looked her age—a young girl, full of confusion and emotion.

“Aww, how cute.”

“Uugh...”

I couldn’t help but gently pinch her cheek, stretching it slightly before turning my gaze toward her still-bleeding shoulder and reaching out.

“Still... the wound on your shoulder is pretty deep.”

“......”

“Let me give you a bit of healing, just to stabilize it.”

I paused to see if she’d flinch away, but thankfully, she silently accepted my magic without resistance.

“...Thank you.”

Maybe the lingering pain made her nuzzle closer into my chest—but somehow, Parsha looked more adorable today than ever before.

–Zzzzt...

Though... something about the healing spell felt off.

–Zzzzzzzzzzt...!

Why did it look like her shoulder was burning with gray light instead of glowing with healing energy?

“If this is Master’s will... I’ll endure it gladly...”

“...Wait, what?”

***

“Ggh...!”

At the same time—in the depths of the Shadow Council’s stronghold.

“Ugh...”

“...Great Shadow?”

“W-What is it, my lady?”

The monstrous creatures beside the throne—a throne fashioned from bone and writhing tissue—began to stir as the woman seated there clutched her right eye in pain and stumbled.

“Never mind.”

But the moment she spoke in that glacial voice, silence fell like a blade.

“To think he already has the strength to resist my power...”

The woman murmured to herself, almost amused, then rose to her feet with a slow, eerie grace.

“At this rate, I might lose my place as Demon King...”

In her hand, a crystal orb shimmered.

And within that orb was Whitney’s face—staring intently at Parsha’s shoulder with a grave expression.

“...Yes. I need to make him mine for certain—this time.”

The face faintly reflected in that orb... bore an uncanny resemblance to Parsha.