The silence stretched too long. In a hall where nobles fed on hesitation, every heartbeat of quiet was another knife pressed to my throat.
I forced my lips to move, though my tongue felt like lead.
"...I am but a servant, my lord. What place could there be for me, other than at Lady Alice’s side?"
Polite. Safe. Humble. The only shield I had in this den of wolves.
Honestly, what the Duke was doing now was nothing short of nonsense.
"Giving up on protocol means giving up on having a personal servant as part of it?"
All excuses.
Technically, he wasn’t wrong—but it was also something that could have been easily overlooked with the authority he wielded as head of the ducal family.
And if Duke Speda truly chose to act this way...
I could only assume it was for the same reason as the general.
"I have realized something while serving as Lady Alice’s personal servant, even if it was only for a short while."
I turned away from the duke and faced Alice instead.
Kneeling on one knee, I lowered my head before her.
"I have only one master to serve—Lady Alice."
Her brows arched slightly, her lips curving into something between surprise and amusement.
"Oh? And then?"
"Even if I am stripped of the position of her personal servant, I still wish to remain by her side in any way possible."
I could feel the Duke’s intentions pressing down on me like a weight. He wanted to take me away, to use me as a resource elsewhere in the household.
But that could never be allowed.
As head of the family, he might think in terms of efficiency and personnel distribution.
But I was not his pawn.
The Duke stroked his beard as though in thought, his frown deepening.
"This is troublesome. As the one who hired you, I can’t simply let you drift about."
"Then, it can’t be helped."
He smiled faintly, satisfied. "Glad you understand. That makes things easier."
Understand? My foot.
If he intended to strip me from Alice just because he thought I was useful, then I would use that very fact against him.
"No. I intend to leave the ducal household."
The silence that followed was sharp and satisfying.
"...!"
"Do you realize what you’re saying?"
Their reactions were priceless.
Everyone except Alice looked stunned.
Especially Hans—ever the picture of loyal service—his expression was almost comical.
"Julies! How dare you speak so rudely before the Duke!"
"...Julies. You should beg for forgiveness from Father now."
I rose smoothly, offering a deep bow to the Duke.
"My will is firm. Even if I am no longer her servant, I will still follow Lady Alice. If even that is forbidden... then I shall return to my homeland."
The air in the chamber grew taut, frozen under the weight of my words.
A mere servant, daring to defy the Duke’s command.
A servant who openly threatened to leave the household rather than submit.
And yet, it was the truth. My loyalty did not belong to the house, nor to the Duke.
It belonged to Alice.
Of course, I am bound to her by system.
If she dies then I will die too.
But it’s not like they would believe me when I say that.
All eyes were on me—on the insolence of a mere servant daring to speak as though I were an equal.
The Duke’s fingers stopped mid-motion over his beard. Slowly, his gaze lifted from me to Alice, as though weighing something on invisible scales.
"...You speak boldly for a man of your station."
I bowed lower, my forehead nearly touching the marble floor. "Boldness is born of necessity, my lord. Lady Alice is the only master I recognize. My service is hers, and hers alone."
Hans shifted behind me, his voice quivering with suppressed outrage. "This is outrageous! To speak so before the Duke—"
"Enough, Hans."
The Duke’s words cut like a knife, silencing his steward instantly. He rose from his chair, a tall, imposing figure whose shadow spilled across the floor like ink.
"Julies," he said, each syllable slow and deliberate, "you would abandon your oath to the Draken household, just to follow my daughter?"
I lifted my head enough to meet his gaze. "I would not call it abandonment. I have fulfilled my duties to this house faithfully. But my oath... was to her."
His eyes narrowed, flicking briefly to Alice. "And what do you say, Alice? This man claims such devotion to you. Would you keep him, even against my orders?"
Alice didn’t flinch. She sat composed, hands folded neatly over her lap, her gaze fixed on her father with an intensity that mirrored his own. "Julies has been indispensable to me," she said softly, but with steel beneath her tone. "If he wishes to serve me alone, I will not stop him."
"You would pit your will against mine over a servant?" the Duke murmured, though there was no true surprise in his voice—only a dangerous curiosity.
"I would," Alice replied simply.
A heavy silence pressed down again.
The Duke’s brow furrowed, but instead of the fury I expected, something else flickered in his gaze—calculation. Interest.
At last, he exhaled through his nose, a low sound like a dragon sheathing its fire.
When his eyes returned to me, they burned sharper than before.
"Ha... Bold, aren’t you? Cunning beyond compare. If Dovye had seen this, he would have fought to claim you as his own, just as General Bardik once did."
I held my tongue. Words here could only dig a grave.
"You wrap your loyalty in clever phrasing," he continued, voice curling into a smirk. "You speak less like a servant... more like a knight."
The weight of his words pressed heavy on my shoulders. Sweat traced down my palm, hidden by the clench of my fist.
No matter how I tried to steady myself, the truth remained—he held all the initiative.
"As a noble, one must always take full responsibility for what they say." His tone was edged, like steel drawn just far enough to warn. Then, unexpectedly, he softened it by a fraction. "But... there are ways around words, if your resolve proves genuine."
"I’ll do whatever it takes," I said, the oath escaping my lips before doubt could find me.
He leaned forward, his smile sharpened into provocation. "Words are cheap. Action decides everything."