"Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa~…"
Slumped on the floor of his room, Noah repeated the same sound as if working on his vocalizations for an opera. Yet, he was no opera singer, merely something trying to drown his dissatisfaction under a long annoying sound.
Standing next to him was a white-haired maid looking at him with an amused expression—without a doubt, she was only waiting for an occasion to bring him down with her words.
"Heh… I believe Mistress Vasilisa expected this result, didn't she?"
Just like so.
"K-Ke—"
"Yes, 'Keep your mockery for yourself', yes," she said with a counterfeit voice. "Miss Vasilisa might say that, but the current state of things was almost… written in stone if I may say."
Was she talking about that fate thing again? Such hogwash. If he failed to gather the support of even one servant to this day, it was because of what he had done and nothing else!
