It all began with a knock.
Not the usual thunderous crash of a dragon tail against my door, nor the self-important royal pounding of Princess Seraphina's jeweled fists.
This knock was soft. Polite. Methodical.
Tap-tap. Tap.
The kind of knock that whispered instead of shouted. Which somehow made it ten times more terrifying.
I froze midway through brushing my teeth—having barricaded myself in the second-floor guest bathroom to avoid another "accidental group bath" situation.
"Master Rei," came a gentle voice from the other side. "Forgive the intrusion."
Rosette.
Of course it was Rosette.
"I'm—uh—occupied!" I called, splashing water on my face and nervously checking the corners of the ceiling for hidden cameras. I wouldn't put it past her to have installed a mirror in the drain.
"I understand," she replied, still eerily calm. "But there's something I must show you. Something important."
I hesitated. When Rosette said something was important, it was either a freshly cleaned teacup… or a loaded crossbow engraved with my name.
"What kind of important?"
"I would prefer to show you in person."
Yup. Definitely a crossbow.
Still… I owed her.
Compared to the other girls, Rosette was quiet, loyal, always appeared at the exact moment I needed tea or rescue—and possibly trained by assassins. Sure, she occasionally radiated the calm threat level of a professional body disposal expert, but that was better than open declarations of "let's die together in a love-suicide ritual," right?
I cautiously cracked the door open.
She stood there in full maid attire, apron crisp, gloves spotless, silver tray balanced perfectly in her left hand.
No crossbow. Not even a tea knife.
I was suspicious.
"Is this a trap?" I asked bluntly.
She blinked. "Only if you say no."
"…Cool. Cool cool cool. Lead the way."
Without another word, Rosette turned and began gliding silently down the corridor. I followed, mentally preparing myself for anything—poisoned scones, love confession, maybe a shrine made of toenail clippings.
She didn't speak as we passed the library, turned left at the music hall, and descended a rarely-used servant staircase behind a tapestry of a fat cherub riding a pig.
Down we went. One flight, then another.
"I didn't know this part of the estate existed," I muttered.
"It doesn't," she replied simply. "Not officially."
We stopped in front of an unmarked wooden door with a rusted handle.
Rosette reached into her apron pocket, withdrew a brass key with a heart-shaped bow, and inserted it into the lock.
"Please don't be alarmed," she said, "and remember that everything inside is born of love."
"…That is exactly what people say before a horror movie starts."
The door creaked open.
And I immediately wished it hadn't.
What lay beyond was not a room.
It was a shrine.
No.
A museum.
To me.
The lighting was soft, provided by enchanted crystal orbs mounted on the walls. Every available surface was covered in memorabilia—framed photographs of me from all ages, school uniforms encased in glass, lockets filled with my hair.
I saw a baby tooth.
Pinned with a gold plaque that read: "Rei's First Molar – Retrieved after he fell down the garden stairs (Age 6) "
"What the actual—"
Rosette walked past me and clasped her hands before an ornate altar at the far end. Upon it stood a miniature marble statue of me in a heroic pose, complete with sculpted six-pack abs.
"I had to imagine some details," she said humbly.
Behind the statue, framed sketches lined the wall—dozens of charcoal illustrations of children. Boys, girls, twins. All variations of hair colors: black like mine, gray like hers, some with a blend of both.
"What… is this?" I asked, my voice a dry whisper.
Rosette turned to face me, face flushed with the gentlest smile.
"Our future."
I blinked. "Our… what now?"
She gestured to the sketches.
"These are the children I believe we will have. Based on genetic compatibility, ideal age spacing, and optimal gestational windows." She picked up a clipboard from a nearby desk. "I've already selected their names. The eldest will be named Rosalio, after my grandfather."
"WHAT."
"Oh. And this," she added, leading me to a mannequin, "is your wedding tuxedo. I tailored it using your childhood bedsheets."
I didn't know what disturbed me more—that she had preserved my linens from childhood, or that she had my measurements down to the millimeter.
"Rosette," I croaked, spinning to face her. "This… this is a lot."
She nodded, serene.
"I understand. It's difficult to accept destiny all at once."
"This isn't destiny. This is—this is—" I flailed an arm at the corner display, "—a lock of my hair from when I got lice!"
"Yes. The first and last time your scalp was impure. I saved it as a reminder of your resilience."
My mouth moved. No sound came out.
System Notification:
[EMERGENCY HEART RATE SPIKE]
[Heartquake Counter: 190 BPM]
[WARNING: Near-Fainting Threshold]
Rosette moved toward me, offering a glass of cold water.
"You're overwhelmed. Please, sit."
I stumbled back, knocking into a wall shelf. A small music box toppled off and opened.
It played a lullaby.
My lullaby.
One I used to hum as a child when I couldn't sleep.
"How—how do you even know this?" I whispered.
"I used to listen at your door," she said.
"…We were six."
She nodded. "It was love at first assignment. When the Duke ordered me to be your personal maid, I understood my purpose."
I needed air. I needed sunlight. I needed an exorcist.
"I… I need to leave."
"Of course," she said, gently guiding me toward the exit. "This place was only meant to reassure you. To remind you how much I care."
System pinged again:
[Rosette Affection Level: Beyond Max]
[Status: Absolute Devotion – Unshakeable.]
[Recommendation: FAINT NOW.]
I made it one step outside before the world tilted sideways.
And I collapsed in Rosette's arms.
"Master Rei," she whispered, stroking my hair as my vision faded. "You're so cute when overwhelmed."
"Help…" I croaked.
She kissed my forehead.
"I already am."
To be continued…