Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“I'm gonna show him!”
Another aggressive stroke of the paintbrush.
“Their opinions on myself don't matter in the slightest!!”
Another dozen.
“I will make this!!!!!–”
Suddenly, a pause. The young girl stood up and took a step back from the canvas to digest what was in front of her. As she wiped her sweat away, the realization hit her.
“Overdone it again. I'm gonna have to remake this entire portion to fix the color balance. At least the perspective is in place… barely.”
As the artist was sitting back down ready to grab her paintbrush, she finally heard a shy knock on her door.

- Yeah, who is it? You can come in!

The girl rushed to the mirror hanging on the wall on the other side of the attic. A little paint did inevitably get on her face, but if whoever was visiting had gotten inside her house, they probably knew her well enough not to judge that. Nevertheless, the young artist hastily fixed her hair right in time for the visitor to enter.

- E-Ena, sorry! I hope you weren't too busy… but… there's something huge! going on!!

The girl who entered was an unremarkable neighbor of Ena's; daughter of a merchant, she was one of the few educated girls in the Bibido district just like Ena herself.

- I was actually in the middle of painting, but…

Ena glossed over her mess of a canvas once again.

- …it's gonna be a long time before this is completed, so I don’t mind a small break. How are you doing?

Only now did the young artist notice her former classmate being so excited that she was running out of breath.

- There’s a noble..! In our district, there’s a noble on a walk talking to commoners in our district RIGHT NOW!
- Oh? So like is it a Baron? Or a Baroness? - Ena was right to assume that the appearance of a Lord or a Lady wouldn’t get anyone running as fast to alert all their friends. Bibido district fell under the jurisdiction of Lord Shiraishi who was known for his sociability, as such visits from his friends of a similar status sometimes became so frequent that the folk would forget that Ladies and Lords are nobles to begin with.
- It’s a really cute Count! With super fancy clothes, like, really fancy, oh, I’m so sure you’ll like them!
- Urgh, fine, let’s go!

Despite rolling her eyes at the sheer mention of privilege, Ena couldn’t pass an opportunity like that. After all, you don’t get to see someone as well put together to look well as a Count every day, not in Bibido district at least. That painting, unfortunately, wasn’t getting finished today anyway. Ena’s friend briefly explained where to find the mysterious guest and ran off before Ena got to put her shoes on: after all, she took the difficult role of informing all the girls she knew of the arrival, which meant she had no time to waste. However, since the Count could obviously leave at any moment, Ena was also in a hurry: his suit wasn’t going to inspire itself. Soon enough, she was out of the house and just around the corner of the street where the noble was spotted.

The crowd around seemed surprisingly sparse at first, before Ena realized how sunny it was. Especially for an evening. A quick gaze at the city chapel confirmed her suspicions - it was about 7 in the morning, meaning she’d worked through the night. Only with this realization did the fatigue hit her, but Ena was determined to at least get a look at the Count, so she easily ignored that feeling.

At last, she arrived at the place her friend told her about. The person she awaited was just across the street, chatting with some merchants. Ena’s legs froze in awe of the sight. The word “fancy” was less than an understatement, it was barely scratching the surface, barely touching the hem of the Count’s long lush skirt. Its overwhelming presence immediately overrode the surprise that should’ve been felt at the sight of a skirt instead of a suit - the messenger girl didn’t mention a Countess, after all. However, this wasn’t “a” skirt - this was “the” skirt. At the end of the day that skirt alone probably cost more than everything Ena’s touched in her life put together, including her own house and some of her father’s paintings. The epitome of privilege, the skirt made its wearer resemble a multilayered wedding cake clad in lace, pearls, pink silks and other types of decorations, for some of which Ena didn’t even know the names. However, that was just the skirt. The exotic shape of the top of the dress combined with the cleverly crafted sleeves looked like it wasn’t even physically possible to attain, yet the Count was able to not only move in that piece of art without ruining it, but also do so elegantly and without any awkwardness. That’s a real noble for you. This is what being rich looks like.

Ena still couldn’t move, overwhelmed by the beauty of what she was seeing combined with a pinch of lingering tiredness as well as an immense feeling of something else. Was it jealousy? Perhaps. However, since it manifested emotionally as anger, it would be more correct to call it the feeling of injustice. None of Ena’s friends had clothes like that, hell, none of them had touched or even seen clothes like that. And they probably never will. What did the nobles do to deserve it? Despite being familiar with the diverse ways the world is unjust, Ena was the type of character to still get mad about it. The only thing preventing her from letting this anger out now though was the awe. As such, she didn’t even realize what happened at first when the Count’s magnificent figure started drawing in closer.

- Oh my! Are you by any chance an artist? - it took Ena a good while to realize who was speaking to her and therefore to reply.
- H-how do you know, Your Grace?
- Hahaha! - the mischievous cackle took Ena off guard. The Count looked quite young, probably about her age. What could possibly be on that mind anyway? Are nobles also able to recognize someone’s profession by just looking at them? Is that an ability granted by the court sorcerer or are they born with it? - It’s actually really simple, - the Count took off a white glove revealing a hand of suitably cutely painted nails. How did those not damage under the glove? Before Ena could think of anything else, she felt the touch of one of those fingers on her cheek. In that moment, once again, something died inside of her. On one hand, a stranger just dared to touch her, violated her right to privacy, yet she couldn’t do anything about it. That person could get away with any kind of similar touch without any repercussions, while if Ena were to speak against it, she would have to face dire consequences. On the other hand, she’s never dreamt to be as close to this luxury as she was in that moment. The touch felt way too soft for any hands she knew before, yet human nonetheless.

The moment didn’t last at all though, the next second the Count was already holding that blueish finger in front of Ena’s eyes.

- That’s paint, right?
- Y-yes, Your Grace, - to add to all the other firsts, this was probably the first time in her life that Ena felt this embarrassed.
- Which means you’re an artist!
- I am, Your Grace.
- What a coincidence! I’m actually looking for a specific artist in Bibido. Would you mind helping me out?
- Not at all, Your Grace. You must be looking for Mr. Shinei Shinonome, he lives in–
- Who?
- Mr. Shinei Shinonome, - the Count was really playing on Ena’s nerves by interrupting her, but she still managed to keep her poker face. - You might’ve seen “A Peony Blooming at Night”–
- Yeah, uh, no, maybe? I think I’m looking for another artist.
- I-I don’t think that there are other artists you could’ve heard of in Bibido…
- Well, there are other artists here, right? At least you.
- That’s right, Your Grace. However, none of them are as popular–
- See, if there are other artists, one of them might be the person I’m looking for!

Ena was seriously thinking of facepalming at that moment. Who cares if that ruins her entire career, that Count is a bitch! Or at the very least completely unbearable.

- Who are you looking for?
- I actually don’t know their name. I remember the painting that I saw during one recent ball and I heard it was sent in by an artist from Bibido, so I came here!
- Is that so…

The fact that the painting was sent away, unfortunately, meant almost nothing. National contests were frequent and that was the only way to even get a chance of recognition, so any artist in their right mind would do that often. Ena sent away 3 of her works, her classmate Futaba Natsuno sent 5. Their teacher probably sent away a dozen. Ena’s father, the renowned Shinei Shinonome, was a different case. He probably sent away almost all of his works. Not like Ena cared. After what that man said to her she long since didn’t want to do anything with him.

- Th-that painting was really distinct though! I think I might recognize the artist if I see their other works… Is that possible?
- I apologize, Your Grace, but there is no art exposition going on right now. You’d have to visit every artist in the city.
- Are there a lot of them?
- Yes, Your Grace. Bibido has a small art school, so I can probably name at least a dozen off the top of my head.
- That’s a pity… I’ve never seen such an accurate portrayal of magic on a single canvas… It was really inspirational, y’know?

Ena was used to hearing that about Shinei Shinonome’s paintings. However… magic wasn’t something people painted often. Could it be… No, that’s impossible. But… If there’s at least a small chance…

- E-excuse me! Could you describe the painting a bit more please! Y-your Grace!
- But of course! It depicted this huuuuuge explosion that occurred in the area when the Masked Witch was here on her business. It was like really colorful and really over the top and the contrast with the chapel made it seem soooo cool and interesting! It felt just right.
- Th-this can’t be… But, Your Grace, didn’t you say it looked accurate? That painting… didn’t really look realistic.
- Who cares about that? It FELT accurate, and that’s way more important!

Flabbergasted, Ena didn’t come up with a reply, so the pause was broken by the Count.

- So, will you show me your other works?
- How-?! I-I mean. Yes, Your Grace.
- Lovely!

As Ena and the Count headed to the former’s humble residence, the latter insisted on continuing the conversation.

- What did you say your name was again?
- Ena, Your Grace, but I never told you–
- Oh! Does that mean I didn’t tell you my name either?
- No, Your Grace, - Ena was surprised to realize that she wasn’t able to recognize this Count at all. Surely she would’ve already seen all the nobles her age in tabloids, wouldn’t she?
- Count Mizuki Akiyama Junior of Kamiyama City at Shibuya Kingdom’s service, pleased to meet you!

Ena immediately ignored half of those protocoled words. Kamiyama… While it still was a different district, it was neighboring Bibido nonetheless. Why hasn’t she ever heard of any Count living there?

- So, - Count Akiyama continued, - how old are you then?
- I recently turned 19 years old, Your Grace.
- Oh, that young? My apologies, I assumed you were like 23 or something!

“Don’t talk back, Ena. You need your job to eat food. Prison food is not tasty, it’ll make you ugly.”

- I myself am only 18, by the way, - added the Count.

“What was that comment for?!”

- And are you married yet?
- No, Your Grace. I live alone.
- Good, good.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Ena stopped.

- Your Grace, I suggest you wait outside. My house is in too poor of a condition to accommodate Your Grace’s very lovely dress, and the paintings are located in the attic, so it would probably just be easier for the both of us if I just bring them outside.
- Sure! I’m glad you understand what a pity it would be to ruin this dress, haha. I’ll be waiting for you here!

Ena nodded and disappeared from Count Akiyama’s view into the door of her small house. She really needed some sleep, but that wasn’t an option at the moment. She was also really angry, so she took it out on some of the spices she happened to have. After swallowing a cup of boiling tea in one gulp to not waste any time, she finally got the energy she needed to rush to the attic for her paintings.

It didn’t take her too long. Soon enough Ena was outside dragging four canvases she happened to find first along with a couple of sketchbooks. She was so focused on it that she didn’t even notice that Count Mizuki Akiyama wasn’t waiting for her alone anymore.

- You’re back!

“Well, of course I am, why wouldn’t I be?!” - Ena didn’t have it in her to come up with a polite reply. Instead, she finally put down everything she brought in a way that it’s visible for the Count. Despite all of its technical problems, her art was still probably a better speaker than Ena herself.

- Wow… These are all so adorable! So it was you after all, wasn’t it?
- Yes, Your Grace.
- I see it’s signed… Enanan. Is that a pseudonym?
- Yes, Your Grace.
- What’s your last name?

Ena hesitated for a second. Of course, the Count has already asked a ton of unreasonable questions she was obligated to answer, but this one. How would the Count’s opinion of her change if she revealed who her father is? Does she have to do it? The Count seems to like her works anyway, so is that not enough? Is your family name the only thing that can dictate opinions in this world?

- Excuse me, are you okay? - the Count interrupted her thoughts once again.
- Yes, Your Grace, my apologies.
- You look soooooo sleepy though! You probably had to wake up really early today, didn’t you?

“What does your privileged ass know about that?” - a momentary thought.

- In that case, let me get straight to the point. I need your name for the document.
- What document?
- The “I’m buying you” contract!! Or whatever it’s called.

…

- My apologies, Your Grace, it looks like I really am falling asleep. Can you please repeat what you just said?
- Haha, no worries! See that carriage behind me? You're going home. With me. I’m buying you as my personal painter!

Ena’s legs gave out and she fell on her knees. On one hand, she was clearly not in the right headspace to make any grand decision that would decide the course of her life for- probably the rest of it. On the other hand… did she even have any choice in the matter to begin with? What could someone like her say when a Count was buying her? There might’ve been some loopholes, but it’s not like they were really worth it.

In fact, most importantly, it’s not like Ena had anything to lose. What are her friends and her entire life in the grand scheme of things?

- Ena Natsuno, - a name of a friend was the best one she could think of on the spot to replace her real one. - That’s my name.
Great! We’re leaving in about 30 minutes, so you…

Ena Shinonome, or rather Ena Natsuno, didn’t remember the rest of the talk. She didn’t remember packing the little amount of things she had. She didn’t remember asking that same girl that told her Count Akiyama was in town to tell everyone she’s leaving. She only remembered finally falling asleep in the shaking carriage that took her somewhere close on the map, yet far, far away in the scale of her insignificantly small life - to the city of Kamiyama.

Chapter Text

The road that had rocked Ena “Natsuno” the newly purchased artist to sleep was becoming less and less rocky with every minute as the carriage approached its destination. It passed the landscapes and minor cities of Kamiyama along with multiple residences of lesser known individuals before finally arriving at Akiyama’s. The Count was so pleased to see the artist cutely asleep that the carriage stopping at the right moment felt sudden and distracting.

- We’ve arrived, Your Grace!

- Oh, can you take care of the painter’s luggage? I don’t wanna wake her up just yet.

- …

- What, do I have to?

- That face doesn’t work on me, Your Grace. With all due respect, I’m afraid I can’t take care of Miss Natsuno’s luggage provided I don’t know where to put it.

It was at this moment that the faint sound of yawning could be heard from inside the carriage.

- Fuh– five more minutes, mom…

- She’s awake! - the Count instinctively twitched to a random direction.

- Wh-who… 

Ena was still in the middle of opening her eyes and clearing her head, when she saw Count Mizuki Akiyama sitting right in front of her. It felt like instantly sobering up. Well… almost. 

- Your Grace! What the– where am I– you bought me?!

- Yep! Did you forget, silly?

- I– no– I– where’s– what– I– - it was at this moment that Ena suddenly remembered that manners, social hierarchy and a genuine threat to her life and safety in case any single little thing went wrong were actual things that existed.

- Okay, okay, I get it, let me show you around. Come on! 

The Count seemingly flat out jumped out of the carriage and with a handwave asked Ena to follow. She carefully stepped down while trying to hide her curious looks around. Weren’t Counts supposed to live in castles or does that just come higher in the ranking? Where are all the people? The statues?

Instead of what the gossip spreading around her class back in Bibido made her expect, Ena found herself standing in front of a giant fancy door of a gothic building that was too big in size to call it a house, but definitely couldn’t qualify as a castle. The Count who smirkingly ignored everything that was clearly written on Ena’s face despite her attempts to hide it proceeded towards the door in a bouncy way and, before anyone could say anything, opened it. The door tried to refuse with a heavy creak, but submitted nonetheless. As the sunlight met with the growing gap, the sight that opened before Ena’s eyes showed her a shocking reality shattering everything that was left in her worldview of the things established by the tabloids. No swarming crowd of servants or different workers was to be seen anticipating the return of their master like puppies with abandonment issues. The enormous hall behind the front door was devastatingly empty.

- Welcome to Cordamia Mansion! - the Count announced triumphantly. - How do you like it?

- I– um… well… 

- I know it’s not too big, but I think it’s cute enough for a residence! Does your artist mind catch something inspiring here?

- Yes. Yes, it certainly does…

- Great! Oh, do you thing need to be shown around? Or is lunch soon…

- Your Grace. - the unexpected third voice came from behind. - I still haven’t gotten an instruction regarding Miss Natsuno’s luggage.

Ena turned around to find a mostly unremarkable tall woman in a dark gray suit. Her hazelnut hair formed a perfectly circular bob cut. The only piece of color on the outfit was the necktie - its shade of red reminded Ena of blood for some reason. The woman stood unmoving beside the carriage almost like a statue with zero presence, however when noticed her unphased yet very serious attitude felt somewhat intimidating.

As her surprise fleeted, three thoughts crossed Ena’s mind. Firstly - “oh, right. I’m the one she’s referring to by ‘Miss Natsuno’. I shouldn’t forget that”. Secondly - “of course there’s someone here! Someone must’ve been driving this carriage”. And thirdly - “even the servants here look prettier than I ever will.”

- Oh, Meiko! Sorry, haha…

- …

- That silent treatment you do is really scary, y'know…

- …

- Okay, okay, uhhhh… Could you just arrange one of the guest rooms?

- Your Grace, I have to request confirmation: are you sure that is what you wish? Guest rooms must normally be reserved for guests, after all.

- Yeah, yeah.

- In that case, I assume you haven't thought of a location where Miss Natsuno could be working? 

- Uh… wouldn’t the garden be sufficient? Oh, wait, do you prefer to draw inside?

Not only did Ena not expect to be included in the conversation, she was also a little preoccupied with taking in the atmosphere of the mansion as well trying to understand the weird dynamic between Meiko and Count Akiyama. Meiko was a common Shibuyan name for a female butler, so Ena imagined these women being thrown around to do petty work with no respect by their owners while they had to keep a professional calmness at all times no matter what. While this Meiko’s attitude matched the description, her relationship with the Count was completely different. Perhaps it’s the age difference that made it seem like she was scolding Count Akiyama and not vice versa, but in any case, Ena found herself once again with slightly subverted expectations.

- Well, I’m more used to painting inside, but I guess I can do either. It’s more of whatever disturbs everybody less.

- Ah, no, I’m more worried about us disturbing your art process than vice versa. Well then, find her a spot in the garden, Meiko!

- As you wish, Your Grace.

The servant turned back to the carriage to unpack the luggage, leaving Ena alone with the Count who waved at her so that she would follow. The two proceeded through the hallway until they reached a giant room at its end. Unlike most of the mansion, it was empty, almost abandoned. It was also higher than a regular room and featured small balconies on the level of the second floor. Since it was still early in the morning, the room was still barely lit by candles from a multitude of elaborate chandeliers, although they had almost burned out. Ena wondered if it was the servants’ sloppiness or the Count's careless attitude behind this room's state. And yet before she could look around any further, the candles were blown out by a gust of wind that came from a door opening in some unnoticeable corner. The entirety of the room was consumed and obscured by darkness. Ena froze in place to avoid bumping into the Count, but moments later she felt soft fabric touching her face.

- Whoops, sorry, I thought you were behind me!... except now that I turned around I’m not even sure where behind is. Hey, is anyone here?!!!

- It’s fine, Your Grace… - Ena bit her tongue as she almost thanked the Count for apologizing. Why would she do that?!

- Oh my, that’s an unfamiliar voice~! I must congratulate Your Grace on the success at finding what you were looking for then.

After saying that, this other “unfamiliar voice” dramatically opened the curtains covering one of the walls that Ena didn’t even notice. The wall in question was actually a massive window which led the bright sunlight into the room. Despite having heard everything that happened, the painter was dumbfounded by how close her owner ended up standing next to her, as if the Count had barely moved an inch after bumping into her. Apparently, the Count noticed the same thing and hastily moved towards the window. Before Ena could follow, another person sneakily jumped in to open the sliding glass door that turned out to exist in the window in front of the Count. 

The woman who kept smirking as if leaving the room pitch-black filled her with pride, looked about the same age as Meiko from before, but otherwise completely different in both demeanor and appearance. The latter, surprisingly, reminded Ena of a toned-down version of the Count - the woman wore a surprisingly standard feminine maid dress and her long hair that was only a shade darker than her master’s was also tied by a ribbon– or was at least pretending too, seeing as most of it was hanging straight down unapologetically and freely behind the servant’s back. If this Count actually had a butler named Meiko, then it wouldn’t be too surprising if the head maid at this mansion were named…

- Luka, good morning! This is Ena Natsuno, my new painter. Meiko is currently occupied with her room. Since you are here, I assume breakfast is ready?

- Precisely. But, my, oh my, you didn’t even purchase any Bibido specialties to munch while you were away? I am pleased to know you like our cooking this much! - the servant’s face oozed with smug irony.

- Oh, you know, I just really wanted the artist… You know how it is, Luka, nothing serious. I’ll make sure to bring all of you something next time! - the Count chuckled, trying to brush away some unseen aspect of the conversation.

Ignoring the fact that she was compared to an exotic delicacy, Ena noted down Luka’s relationship with the Count as another oddity. She had long since stopped believing in “kind” nobles who didn’t care about status and were willing to see everyone as equals despite the idea feeling appealing. Of course, with philosophical ideas on the rise, they shouldn’t be out of the question, but the common disregard to the hierarchical etiquette in Cordamia came across as ignorant rather than enlightened. Well, to every group its own outlier.

- Come over here! - the Count waved at Ena, inviting her to join her owner outside: in the courtyard. - This is going to be your workplace. I’ll have Meiko assemble everything you need so you can start tomorrow.

- There’s no need, I can do that myself, - the last thing Ena wanted was to contribute to the overworking of the poor butler, but there was also an impulse to defend her status as a working class person in that phrase.

- My, I see you’re all grown up! - Luka chimed in. - But you shouldn’t worry. I’m sure, Meiko will be pleased to figure out how to set up a canvas. She knows how to do everything, so it’s been a while since I’ve seen her do something new~

- I know, right! For once, she’s gonna be the one watched! - the Count grinned to Ena’s powerless horror. - And speaking of watching… or rather seeing, I suppose. Since I am seeing you here, I assume breakfast is ready?

- Should be, - Luka turned to her master playfully, - I decided to have someone else finish it today to meet our guest first! And see to Your Grace and Meiko, of course.

- You’re slacking off again? - the suddenly stern tone of Count’s voice nearly sent a small chill down Ena’s spine, yet Luka remained unphased.

- Yesn’t. And I also just called the new item Your Grace has acquired for our staff a “guest”.

- And compared Meiko and me as equals.

- …oops.

- Urgh… - the Count still sounded annoyed, but couldn’t keep an angry face no matter how much effort was put in. - Pfft, haha, okay, you know what, just go help out with the breakfast. Have everybody join. We will be there soon.

- As you wish, Your Grace.

Still smirking, Luka gracefully sneaked back into one of the side doors which Ena could only assume led to a staff-only passage to the kitchen. There was a momentary pause after that so that the young painter could finally take a look around the courtyard she was standing in. It was about as big as the empty room they just left, if not twice its size. There was another mansion wall to the right with a door leading inside and the trees right across the glass entrance were hiding a small building, probably a warehouse or something. To the left the courtyard was limited by a gothic fence; its gate was currently closed, but as far as Ena could see, the forest started pretty much right outside, so the fence must have been installed for safety. Apart from the scarce trees, a few flowerbeds and a couple of benches, the courtyard was also empty, but it at least didn’t feel as deserted as the giant room before. It should feel better to paint in here then.

The Count entered the mansion through the other door and left the glass one open. Ena tried to close it behind before following, but the Count only chuckled in response while waiting for her in the door – apparently even something as trivial as closing doors was below what nobles had to worry about. Ena gave up after realizing how heavy the glass door actually was… was there a trick to handling it or were all the servants just expected to be strong enough? In any case, she followed the Count inside what looked to be some kind of a meeting room with large sofas, a table and some other furniture Ena didn’t have the chance to ogle before they proceeded back into that first hallway to the right. The Count was heading in the direction of the building’s exit which made Ena wonder whether they were going outside – was there a whole separate building just to dine? But no, the mansion was self-sufficient, it was just the door to the right of the entrance that was their destination.

It was still not the dining room though… but a whole personal library! And bigger than Bibido City’s public one, no less. Ena wondered if she would be allowed to read what was in here for a brief moment before realizing she would probably be spending most of her time working. The Count, however, noticed her face flinch.

- Can you read? I heard most peasants were illiterate, but you looked really fascinated just now! I can give you some of my favorites!

- My apologies, Your Grace, - Ena had to really calm herself down after hearing the word “peasants”. - Yes, I was lucky enough to receive an education. I was just wondering if it would be okay for me to read books from here…

- Of course!!! Oh my god, Lord Shiraishi is a real one! Can you believe An thought education was boring and his expenses on giving it to you people were futile because “who would want to read a book when you can do anything else”-- have you read Miramagi?

- I’m sorry, what.

- The Miracles of Magic, it’s a… novel series. My favorite.

- No, can’t say I have, - Ena gave up on trying to hide her confusion and disdain: did she really look like someone shallow enough to read romantic or gothic novels? Surely, the Count didn’t think this was why she learned to read. But before Ena could contemplate any further whether she was being made fun of, the Count hastily turned around. 

- Haha, sorry-sorry. Yeah, you can read whatever you like here. It’s no big deal. Let’s just go eat now.

- Thank you, Your Grace, - Ena shrugged. Well, that was a weird interaction.

The Count stopped turning around to look at her reactions or to leave a comment as they both proceeded to the rear exit from the library. This must be what trying to stay composed while being hungry looks like, Ena thought, before realizing that the Count couldn’t know what real hunger feels like and that the Count doesn’t seem to care about composure this much. Must be pouting for some reason then. Immaturity was the only explanation for the Count’s demeanor that made sense to Ena. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sight of a majestic circular staircase the Count had led them to. One trip up and then another hallway and then the first door to the right… was finally the dining room.

The dining room was long as it was built around a long table in the center which was surrounded with about twenty chairs. The food wasn’t served yet, but there were five plates and cutlery sets at the ready – one at the head of the table and two at each side of it. Ena wondered who else lived in the Cordamia since not only have they not met anyone this far, but it has also been deadly quiet. Nevertheless, that silence was soon disturbed by footsteps – two people entered the dining room with trays of food, most of which were appetizers surrounding delicious-smelling fried eggs. Ena’s stomach treacherously growled. She recognized one of the serving people as Luka from before, the other one was a new face. Shorter than even Ena, she looked about thirteen years old, and her outfit didn’t differ much from Luka’s except that it was a little bit more plain and both of them wore aprons now, seeing as they just came from the kitchen. Other than the dress, however, the girl looked more like Meiko than Luka – her face similarly done with everything and her blond hair also cut short, although unlike Meiko’s it refused to stay in its lain and poofed in all directions outside instead, like a round of spikes. Ena felt a weird sort of connection to this girl, unlike the invisible and distant Meiko she appeared very human, which made her exhaustion seem relatable and also made her look like the only sane person in the mansion so far. If that was truly the case, it was somewhat tragic, since she was also definitely the youngest one too.

As the Count sat down at the head of the table while looking somewhere to the side deep in thought and the servants unloaded the plates, Ena stood to the side, waiting for the following instructions. The main part of the tour was over and the Count was ready to eat, so she was probably going to be left to do something else by or with someone else. She felt a little embarrassed having no idea what was the proper thing to do in this situation and that embarrassment only grew when the door behind her opened and she felt a cold stare from the person who entered.

 - Your Grace, - when the person who entered turned her gaze to the Count, Ena recognized her voice as Meiko. - Have you changed your decision regarding today’s breakfast?

- Eh?... - the Count’s head turned around slowly. - What decision?

- About us. 

- Oh! I said you could join, right, haha! - the Count seemingly forced the spark that was lost somewhere during the tour to come back. - Yes, of course, Enanan, come sit here!

- Here-? - Ena was flabbergasted to say the least. 

- Yeah, I want you to eat next to me. Meiko has to be to my right when I let the girls join me, so you get the left!

- That’s…

- Normal here, Miss Natsuno, - the blond girl suddenly spoke. Her voice was calm, yet also slightly annoyed. - I’m sitting next to you then. Our Count has the staff eat here occasionally, it’s not a big deal. Just like me speaking without permission isn’t.

- Come onnn, you can’t just say that! I can fire you~ - the Count interrupted her playfully. Ena finally got a read on the situation: nobody was getting fired. Maybe, that meant she wasn’t in any danger either.

- Oh my, Rin, but if you get fired, who will judge my jokes? Will Meimei finally have to talk to me in fully-fledged sentences? - Luka chimed in again. She had finished arranging the dishes she brought and immediately snuck her tray on top of Rin’s (which was to no one’s surprise the blond girl’s name) to sit down next to Meiko. Ena heard Rin let out a heavy sigh of annoyance.

- If you know your master well enough, you know what is allowed and what isn’t. We three have been the staff at Cordamia Mansion for about four years now. You can trust us with the boundaries.

With that being said, Rin left with the trays and Ena finally sat down and dared to look at the Count again. Was the boundaries being loose exclusive to Cordamia or were many nobles a little nicer in private than the media would let her know? That didn’t matter. She still didn’t know all the boundaries, but as annoyed as Rin sounded (which was about the same level of annoyance pretty much every teenager exhibited in that age, on second thought) her main message was definitely something along the lines of “don’t be afraid to ask us”.

The Count looked back at Ena with a cheeky grin. Ena looked at the eggs and paused for a moment, doubting whether it was really okay to take some. That moment was all it took for Rin to come back and for Meiko to start cutting herself a piece.

- Oh my, someone’s hungry! - Luka poked the butler.

- I’ve been driving all night. - Meiko remained unbothered.

- Bon appetit! - the Count announced and Ena also reached for the eggs.

Chapter Text

- You should take a break.

- This… is even worse than the last attempt, isn’t it?

- If it was that easy, I would have had the solution liquid already.

- You’re right… Let’s try again tomorrow.

***

- So, you’re that magical painter Our Count was obsessing over, Ena? - Luka only took one bite before she started chatting.

- I’m not magical, I literally just painted a magical explosion once.

- Wait, so you really are the one who made that painting? Our Count actually found you? - Rin was so surprised she dropped all of her annoyance.

- Have faith in your master! Why would I get myself any artist who isn’t the most inspiring talent I’ve ever seen? Of course I tracked her down, hahaha!

- You flatter me, Your Grace. There are artists out there far more talented than me.

This was true, unfortunately not just regarding the person Ena stole her last name from but also regarding her father, her teacher and many others Ena saw the paintings of, from Bibido or otherwise. She surely wasn’t the worst one out there, but she thought to herself on reflex that the Count must be saying this because of not having seen a lot of professional work. That would be excusable for any commoner, but not for a noble. However, Ena has long given up on judging. If the Count’s immaturity led to a limited artistic taste, as long as it provided her with safety on her new job, that was a small price to pay.

- Will she be starting today? - Meiko sounded like the only person who wasn’t just chatting, but strictly inquiring about business instead. 

- I don’t see why not– unless she needs a break after her long trip? - The Count looked at Ena from above the dining throne for the master of the house as if playfully mocking her.

- Of course not! - Ena sneered letting all of her artist pride out. The least she could do to improve the Count’s taste was to show everyone here her best and nothing less. - With your delicious breakfast, I’m ready to start as soon as I’m finished. I should hurry too if I want to fit in as much work as possible before the sun sets.

- Understood. In that case, thank you for the meal, - to Ena’s shock, the speed at which Meiko finished what remained on her plate did not result in any loss of elegance. She then gracefully stood up and rushed outside.

- Meiko–! Uh… Should I…? - Ena instinctively paused.

- Nah, no need, she’s there to help, so eat your full first! - the Count smiled.

- I shall take my leave too then, if you’ll excuse me, - Luka added while seemingly still taking her time with the food, - I need to see Meiko try and figure the artist setup out for the first time.

- Good luck with that! - the Count chuckled nervously. 

As Luka left and three people remained in the dining room, the rest of the breakfast suddenly plunged into an awkward silence that prevented Ena from savoring every bite of the perfectly timed eggs she felt like she didn’t deserve. As she slowly swallowed what was left of her humble portion, she glanced over at Rin and the Count. Luckily for her sanity, they both took about the same time as her to finish.

- Thank you, - Rin said as she stood up and collected everyone’s plates back on a tray. Ena tried to help her seeing as Luka wasn’t here to do that anymore, but the look on Rin’s face implied that she was more so disturbing her than helping out, so the painter gave up as the servant continued, - I assume both Your Grace and Miss Natsuno would want to change after the trip before proceeding with today’s activities?

- Definitely! - the Count replied and Ena nodded as she realized she’s long overdue for a shower. - Let us meet up in the courtyard in an hour then.

- Understood, Your Grace. Miss Natsuno, follow me.

Having said that Rin immediately proceeded to the back of the room and into the kitchen somehow balancing two trays of empty dishes now. Ena silently followed suit. Her curiosity got the better of her so before leaving the room she turned her head around once to what the Count was up to. Surprisingly enough, the Count was looking back at her, as if she was stared at this entire time. However, after realizing they’d locked eyes for a moment, the Count turned around and swiftly left through the main door. Rin and Ena were then in the kitchen.

Rin’s attitude changed almost immediately after the door closed behind them as if she gained a little more energy. She carefully placed the dishes on one of the tables and then as if she had never had any dishes to worry about in the first place, hopped to a door further in the back to the right waving at Ena to follow. They entered something that could only be described as a corridor – it was smaller and a tad bit dirtier than the main halls, but that even made Ena comfortable: at least it was closer to what she had at home than how fancy the rest of the mansion looked. There was an obvious explanation to the contrast between what she saw with the Count previously and this entire area: she was now in the servant passageways. 

As Ena tried (in vain) to figure out an approximate map of the house, Rin rounded the corner to the left and led the two down a small wooden staircase. Finally, a door downstairs led her to a familiarly structured common bathhouse. She immediately recognized a basket of fresh laundry and with Rin’s silent nod of approval found herself a fresh towel.

- I hope you don’t mind me choosing what spare outfit to bring you. Your room is somewhat far from here, so I’d like to save you some time, Miss Natsuno.

- I believe in your taste, don’t worry! Also, you can stop calling me that, - the only reason Ena said that was her name being faked, as she actually enjoyed being respected at the very least for her age or small accomplishments. - my name is Ena.

- To be honest, I’m confused as to your status. Are you a commoner?

- Yeah, aren’t you? - Ena felt somewhat annoyed by Rin’s bluntness.

- I am a servant. Technically a commoner, but in a somewhat specific status that sometimes makes me more and sometimes makes me less… I thought a personal painter would be the same, but the Count has you occupy a guest room upstairs…

- Maybe it’s because there are no more rooms? - Ena wondered without thinking which got her a cold look from Rin.

- This mansion has the capacity to hold over 20 servants. There are 3 of us, though. We even get individual rooms. But these are still servant rooms nonetheless. Which makes sense because we are servants. What are you?

- I… have no idea, honestly.

- Well then, go take a shower. 

- Okay..?

Rin left and Ena was left alone with her thoughts and some nicely warmed water for about 15 minutes. Finally, her change of clothes arrived. Refusing to continue with the awkward topic, Rin silently waited for Ena to change and then finally accompanied her to the courtyard which happened to be just outside the small corridor they entered through. Luka and Meiko were there already: the former watching the latter struggle with Ena’s canvas setup from afar.

- Let me help you with that! - Ena immediately rushed over to Meiko.

- Ah, it was fun while it lasted… - Luka sighed.

- About time. Doesn’t Our Count need your assistance now? - Rin glanced at Luka disapprovingly.

- You can rest, Miss Natsuno. I believe I have figured it out. - saying that, Meiko tried to block Ena physically from assisting. Ena stood up. Her patience has run thin and for once she was in a position where no authority figure could shut her up, so just as Rin said - about time. About time for Ena to explode.

- Could you stop this entire thing? I’m not a guest here– I was purchased to work! It is a different kind of labor that doesn’t compare to yours, but that doesn’t make me a noble unable to dirty her hands. Seriously, do you really like being in an inferior position to whoever’s around you? You just let people keep walking all over you?

- Meimei’s a workaholic! - Luka explained. - So she kinda walks over herself!

- I’m talking to all of you! What’s with the “Miss” thing, for example?! I’m a commoner like you! Just call me by my name, dammit!

- I apologize. - Meiko also stood up, facing Ena with the entirety of her usually intimidating height. - I’m in the habit of addressing people in a formal manner unless closely acquainted with them. My treatment of you has nothing to do with Our Count’s– as well as my own political beliefs and therefore the hierarchy. I’m just trying to do my job.

- Oh yeah, I can confirm. She’s been calling me Miss Megurine even after Miss Kagamine showed up.

- Don’t call me that. - Rin seemed to also be waiting to blow up. - And go help Mi– I mean, Our Count! 

- So can I help you with my setup, Meiko? - Ena concluded.

- Yes. 

- Okay, so the show is over, Rin is right, so we’ll be right back. See you, Ennie, see you, Meimei! - Luka grabbed Rin despite her protests and ran off before Ena could question what she was just called.

With Ena’s knowledge of her own tools, the setting up process was soon over and it didn’t take long for the Count’s entrance after that. Luka followed behind; Ena had to assume Rin left to finish other chores. The Count’s current attire stayed fancy, yet was visibly a lot smaller which would make sense for an everyday outfit that would ease moving inside the mansion – not only was there an elephant in the room shaped like a staircase, but seeing as the Count was only surrounded by servants there wouldn’t really be anyone to impress with anything extra extraordinary. However, there remained a significant problem with that.

- Glad to see you’re here already! - the Count seemed as carefree as ever. - Ready to start?

- As I’ll ever be, Your Grace. Permission to speak freely, though?

- You always have it, what?

- Are you ready though?

- Me? What do you mean?

- Well, after witnessing Your Grace’s beautiful gown yesterday, I… assumed Your Grace would want to go all in on the portrait too. Is that not the case? 

The Count froze for a moment, but then immediately forced a smile back. Ena, however, noticed Luka carefully stepping forward at that moment. Was it something she said? Did she go too far and actually offend the Count’s dress…? The context clues led her to believe Cordamia was safer than the average noble household, but she could have just been deluding herself with hope considering this is where she’ll have to live for probably the rest of her life. While she kept contemplating whether she ought to have been more careful, the Count finally answered:

- You will not be painting my portrait.

- Is that so? M-my apologies… - but what else would a noble need a personal artist for, Ena thought. - Then what?

- Um, you can start with this view outside. The courtyard. Preferably with interesting lighting– or something. Just draw something pretty.

- …As you wish, Your Grace.

Ena had to make an effort to forcefully shut down thousands of thoughts rushing through her head. The tense atmosphere that followed her question gave her such a scare that the only way she saw to deal with the surrounding anxiety was to become completely engulfed by the painting process. Yes, she was dumbfounded by the way every expectation she had of Cordamia has been subverted in the most frustrating way possible. Yes, she was offended by the way the Count’s extremely inspiring high fashion dresses shining with personality were replaced by regular old nature (of course, she was still prepared to paint that stupid courtyard the best she could, but that didn't mean she wasn't pissed off!). Yes, she was curious about what just happened. Yes, she was scared for her life in front of a noble. Yes, she was angry at herself for being scared and at the world for not being able to directly ask the questions she wanted. And yet all these “yes”es were at the end of the day just emotions - something she could easily use to fuel her creative process. To depict the courtyard of Cordamia would be to convey all of her confusing feelings about it through the subtle choices of angles, colors, lighting and brushstrokes. That's how good art was made.

Ena wasn't really disturbed throughout the day as she became so engrossed she kept working until she could barely see the canvas. The servant girls would sometimes come, but they all made sure to avoid bothering her, even Luka, despite the others having to interfere to prevent her. The few times she did need to briefly leave, Rin accompanied her - she was also the one to bring her lunch and dinner. During most of the process Ena was by herself. She felt that sometimes somebody was just watching her work from afar, inside the mansion, but she never knew who specifically it was. 

- Do you even see what you're doing? - she was finally interrupted when the sun had almost set. It was Luka.

- Yeah, somewhat.

- You know there's no deadline on this, right? You can take breaks and go to sleep whenever you want. Ah, to live the good personal painter life.

- Count Akiyama is too generous.

- True~ and it's adorable how you're not yet used to saying “Our Count”, hehe. Although, the breaks are not exclusive to Cordamia.

- Why is that? I thought normally when you're serving a noble they want you to work as hard as possible.

- But they can't paint at all if they're burnt out from no breaks or no inspiration… and it's so easy to get burnt out… no noble wants their painter to get burnt out.

- I see. 

- Shall I show you where your room is?

- I think I'll find it on my own. I just wanna do a little more…

- As you wish~ good night.

- Good night…

Finally, it was pretty much pitch black except for the stars. Luka left Ena a candle to get back, but as she reluctantly picked it up and entered the mansion, she was struck with a realization - she lied to Luka. There wasn't even a map and it would definitely be impossible to find where to go even if the place was fully lit. That's what being too concentrated on her work got her. Unfortunately, it was too cold to just immediately fall asleep outside, so she started exploring. 

The ballroom only had one big exit, the one that led to the main hall, however, which one of the doors from there would help her advance towards her room was anybody’s guess. Ena started with the first door to the left, but it only took her one look over the unfamiliar desk, fancy chairs and other elements of the overall layout inside to realize she doesn’t need to check any further. Luckily for her, the second door did not disappoint - it led to the library. Ena suddenly remembered the Count’s awkward face when the idea of her reading some novel series was ignorantly suggested. She shrugged thinking about how her lack of sleep turned her brain off with it, throwing this in randomly as if to imply that privileged face deserved pity. The thing Ena actually needed to remember about this room was the rear exit - it led to the staircase and according to Rin, that’s just what she needed to get to her room. So she followed further inside.

The towering bookshelves stood so tightly close to each other that they resembled a labyrinth. As she advanced, Ena frequently got distracted by the titles - her fatigue demolished the righteousness that contained her curiosity about the noble lifestyle, so she needed to know what the Count read, or at least could read, about as much as she needed to get to bed at that moment. There was a lot of historical records and political essays, and when Ena noticed philosophy, she automatically started looking for her friend’s publications, but while there was quite a lot of old “Bellus Society” essays, unfortunately, she never really made it big enough in that sphere. This rabbit hole, surprisingly, led Ena to a part of the library where those romantic and gothic novels they discussed were stored. There was a lot of them there, too. The Count’s sad face reappeared in Ena’s mind, almost making her feel sorry again, when she suddenly noticed a light coming from the gap between two bookshelves nearby.  

This couldn’t have been her own candle. More importantly, how did it end up there?

Ena approached the gap and touched it. This was definitely real. There was light. Since it had already been a moment since she stopped thinking straight, she didn’t hesitate to even try to fit her fingers inside that gap, and, shockingly enough, it helped, but definitely not in the way she expected. The gap largened as one of the bookshelves easily sled aside to reveal a passage into yet another part of the library, lit by multiple candles. Ena wondered why they weren’t put out so late, but what she found more surprising was what followed. There was a mannequin standing in the way. It had no clothes on except for a couple of ribbons tied to its wires. Furthermore, as Ena continued there were more - most with Count’s dresses, but some with other similarly detailed clothes that felt like their style was only adjacent to the Count’s signature one. Ena kept carefully moving every one of these out of her way not without making sure to admire them from every angle and looking back at the ones she had to leave behind as she followed the candles. Finally, behind one of them there was a desk. And at that desk slept the Count, needle and cloth in hands, frozen in the middle of a stitch.

When it came to unexpected and potentially stressful situations, despite what the last few days may have led anyone to believe, Ena actually possessed a pretty well developed fight or flight response (but more so the former) which she had only converted into stopping herself from doing anything at all lately, as angering a noble with inaction was far less likely than the opposite. This was the moment the control stopped. With barely any pause to think, she sprinted forward and swiped the needle from the Count who was immediately awakened by that.

- Hwaaaat… are you doing… W-wait, Ena?!

- Your Grace appears to have hid away in some sort of secret room that I was lucky to stumble upon, - even behind the official lingo, Ena could barely contain her annoyance, - and then carelessly fell asleep out in the cold while wielding a needle sharp enough to potentially cause serious harm. I was merely ensuring my… master’s safety.

- Oh… - the ever so slight blush that highlighted the Count’s genuine surprise meant it took a moment for Ena’s words to sink in, before a chuckle was let out. - Haha, that’s… nice. I’m sorry you had to see that, and on your first day too. 

Ena let out a sigh of relief. The Count’s stupefying absent-mindedness was at the very least compensated by either naivety or kindness substantial enough to tolerate scoldings.

- This is my… eh… the room… well, I suppose it’s a little small to be considered a room-

- Really? Have, I mean, has Your Grace ever seen any of the servants’ rooms in Your Grace’s own mansion?

- Oh– yeah, sorry, that’s probably fair? This is where I… make clothes.

Despite her almost coming to that conclusion herself, Ena was still surprised to actually hear it. She took another look around, back at the mannequins she had encountered on her way here, on all of their dresses, ribbons, frills, accessories... They were beautiful. And every single one of them was… handmade? Made specifically by the very same hands that had the money to support an entire mansion on their own, to support not only their owner and their possessions, but also three other people in servitude… and herself. Ena couldn’t hold back the question at the tip of her tongue.

- Why… would somebody like Your Grace… make clothes?

- Why? - the Count looked up in some sort of inexplicable profound emotion and sighed with a smile before looking back at Ena, - I figured that would be obvious. I make clothes because I like to.

For some reason, Ena didn’t know what to reply. She found herself captivated by this dialogue, probably just by the simplicity of the answer, she told herself, as she tried to regain her composure by changing the subject.

- We… specifically Your Grace, though, should really get to our sleeping chambers. It’s very late.

- Yeah, you’re right, you’re right… Wait, that reminds me, how did you actually stumble upon here? And that late?

- I… - Ena looked away as she felt her face reddening, - got lost. I got a little carried away with my work and by the time I left the Courtyard it was too dark to find my way up.

- That means we’re in the same exact situation here, hahaha! And here you were scolding me for working late, that’s kinda mean, y’know~!

- A-at least I didn’t fall asleep mid-stroke!

- Ah! How dare you!

As the Count laughed, so did Ena. Finally. She hadn’t let her guard down completely, but at this moment, most of her fears were gone. The Count’s voice expressed sarcasm in the tone of friendly banter and Ena heard it loudly and clearly. Cordamia didn’t pose any immediate danger. It was welcoming and pretty nice.

- Do you even know where your room is, though?

- In theory, Your Grace.

- It’s on the way to mine. Follow me, let’s get us both some sleep.

Ena nodded, as the Count stood up and the two of them proceeded out of the passageway (with the Count personally blowing out all of its candles), through the library to the staircase, then up and finally to the first door to the left.

- Good night! - the Count smiled and waved, as if the gap in status between them didn’t ever exist.

- Good night, Your Grace, - Ena smiled back and nodded politely. The Count looked at her for a couple more seconds before turning around and continuing down the hall.

Ena closed the door to her room behind her and without even looking around to take the new place in, immediately slumped down on the big bed in its center, all of her exhaustion catching up to her. Too tired of the complicated emotion of surprise, she simply passed out – the sun would only start to rise in a few hours.