Surviving As An Obsessive Servant Chapter 131

“…Are you insane?”

“Perfectly normal.”

He had been about to pull my wrist toward his chest but stopped, staring at me intently.

His expression remained the same, as if he genuinely didn’t understand what the problem was.

And my fingertips—suspended in midair—were still hovering dangerously close to his chest.

This is insane.

But was he really that oblivious?

The young master spoke again, his voice filled with pure curiosity.

“Why? Lobel, you’ve always liked touching me.”

“My hand! That was just my hand! HAND!”

Even as I snapped at him, I instinctively lowered my voice, worried that someone outside might overhear.

But my efforts were wasted because, once again, he sent my blood pressure skyrocketing.

“What’s the difference? This is part of me too.”

“…….”

“You shouldn’t discriminate.”

I closed my eyes, silently struggling to contain my rage.

…Could he be some kind of fae with a completely different way of thinking?

Their anatomy was different from humans, so maybe their thought processes were too…!

I was grasping at straws.

No matter how much I cared for the young master, no matter how weak I was to him, this was too much.

But if I thought about it logically, this headache-inducing situation wasn’t entirely his fault.

He’s completely ignorant about these things, and he’s barely had any chances to interact with the opposite sex.

He didn’t talk much, so within Denkart, his only real conversation partners were me and Rimson.

If I stretched the list a little, maybe Arif and a few of his close aides.

And on the battlefield, he was constantly surrounded by men.

So that means… he must have learned this nonsense from someone there. Who the hell thought it was a good idea to teach him this?!

Regardless of my personal situation, it was clear that the young master needed to clean up the people around him.

Meeting his clear, expectant gaze only made me more frustrated.

Even if we had agreed to confirm things between us, why was he rushing straight to the physical part?!

What if he met the wrong person and got into trouble?!

I pulled my hand free from his grip and firmly told him,

“It is different. It feels different.”

Being vague would only confuse him more, so I decided to be blunt.

“Every part of the body feels different. You know this, young master. You used to hate it when I touched your hair.”

“I can’t tell just from comparing my hair and hands. I need more examples.”

I didn’t even have time to refuse.

“So let me find out.”

The young master ignored all of my protests and leaned in closer.

At that exact moment—thud!—the carriage jolted violently as one of its wheels hit something, causing him to shift even closer.

“!”

Bracing himself with both hands on either side of my thighs, he didn’t even blink.

It was as if he had rooted himself in place, unmoving like an ancient tree.

I could tell just from looking at him—he wouldn’t back down unless I complied.

At this point, a strange sense of stubbornness flared up inside me.

Does he really think I won’t do it?

My emotions—frustration, exasperation, and concern—twisted into a reckless impulse.

I raised a hand and placed it against his cheek.

His green eyes, wide with surprise, fluttered shut almost immediately.

His trembling lashes betrayed his nervous anticipation.

Look at him, acting all bold when he’s this jumpy over a simple touch.

That was the first thing that managed to break the tension.

No matter how grown he was in this world’s years, compared to me, he was still inexperienced and young.

Come to think of it, he had probably never even kissed anyone before, let alone had someone else touch him.

Not like this—not as me, not as a woman.

For better or worse, he had never let anyone else get this close to him.

And somehow, I was the only one he trusted to do so.

…Has he stopped breathing?

The more nervous he became, the more I regained my composure.

My calloused palm felt rough against the smoothness of his cheek.

After gently stroking it, I let my index finger slide down to press against the line where his upper and lower lips met.

A warning—telling him to watch what he says.

But instead of being offended, the young master… was delighted.

…What is wrong with him?

The corners of his lips curled upward, and his shoulders trembled slightly.

He looked like a boy who had just received the most precious gift he had ever dreamed of.

It was so obvious how happy he was that I started feeling really weird about all of this.

What did I even do to make him this happy…?

I had only meant to humor him briefly, but I found myself unable to pull my hand away.

And while I hesitated, the young master made a move—swiftly and decisively.

…Why is he lowering his head?

As his head tilted downward, his silky golden hair cascaded over his forehead.

The smooth curve of his brow, his elegant ears, the faint pink dusting his cheeks—all framed by the strands that slid across them.

That alone was distracting enough.

But what truly unsettled me was the only part of him that was moving—his lips.

“Ah!”

Before I could react, my fingers were swallowed into his mouth.

 

 

****

 

 

…This should be fine, right?

Rober Flor anxiously glanced around.

It was because of the man he had suddenly allowed into the merchant guild’s private office.

His name was Manellano Stell…

A noble with such an intense presence that even other men found him intimidating—his striking features and overwhelming height only added to it.

But more importantly… he controlled a staggering number of northern ore mines.

…Though, in the end, he’s just a drunken fool who drinks in broad daylight.

Manellano Stel had been an absolute mess of a man from the very first impression.

Rober had followed the summons from his servant with a mix of doubt and curiosity, only to find himself face-to-face with the nobleman at a tea house.

Manellano was seated a few tables away.

As a merchant, Rober’s eyes instinctively went to his clothes first.

He looks the part of an heir from a wealthy family.

Fine fabric that screamed wealth, jewels embedded in his accessories with no restraint—it was impossible not to feel a hint of envy.

But that feeling was short-lived.

The stench that clung to the man made Rober click his tongue.

He looked about the same age as Lobelia, yet he reeked of midday alcohol and something far worse—opium.

To be wandering around in that state in broad daylight… Rober felt worried for the parents he had never even met.

However, as he arrived, he had noticed a carriage with the Stel family crest—the emblem of ice—parked nearby.

That had been enough to make him steel his resolve.

A drunk or a lunatic, it doesn’t matter. A customer is a customer. And this one? He’s a big fish.

No matter how well his parents’ merchant guild was flourishing, no matter how heavy the title of successor weighed on his shoulders, Rober was still a sinner.

And as a sinner, he made sure to work harder than anyone whenever the guild was short-handed.

After handling successor duties, he helped with anything—manual labor, night shifts, whatever was needed. Work he never would have done in the past.

So even if Manellano Stell turned out to be shady or downright insane, as long as he could increase the guild’s revenue, Rober was prepared to reel him in.

Just like today.

“Please, have a seat and make yourself comfortable.”

Despite his inner thoughts, Rober wore the polite smile of a seasoned merchant and guided his extraordinarily important client to the sofa.

“May I look around?”

“Of course.”

Great. One of those types.

Difficult customers always found something to nitpick—how a merchant dressed, the length of their hair, anything.

…What is he going to complain about?

Despite keeping his welcoming smile intact, Rober braced himself.

But instead of picking faults, Manellano appeared… surprisingly serious.

Despite his willingness to do menial tasks, Rober was still the guild master’s son, so his office was spacious—large enough for ten people to work comfortably.

Manellano’s gaze swept across the room slowly.

Yet, he didn’t make any sneering remarks.

Rober found that oddly surprising.

…Maybe he actually has some manners after all?

But then, Manellano stopped walking.

He had come to a halt in front of a small framed picture hanging on the wall beside the desk.

It was the only portrait Rober had left up—one of his family.

Lobelia had begged endlessly to have all portraits of herself removed out of sheer embarrassment.

But since Rober spent so much time out working, he rarely came into this private office anyway.

So, in the end, he had just left it.

…But why is he standing there, grinning like a madman at our family portrait?

Manellano covered his mouth with his bandaged hands, his face turning red all the way down his neck.

He even stomped his feet on the floor like an excited child.

Rober was completely dumbfounded.

…Is he insane?

He had seemed like a relatively normal person despite the rough first impression, but now he just looked completely unhinged.

Still, seeing him react like that made him seem oddly… innocent.

Rober had done a little digging before bringing him here.

Manellano was already a well-known figure, so it hadn’t been difficult to gather information.

As it turned out, he was the same age as Lobelia.

But unlike her—who enjoyed many things but never expressed them to this extreme—his reaction felt both bizarre and strangely pure.

A nobleman, yet someone who displayed his emotions so openly.

Hmm… Come to think of it, he asked about our family back in the carriage.

[ Do you have any siblings? ]

He had confessed that he had been born an only child and had grown up lonely, then asked if Rober had an older or younger brother.

At the time, it hadn’t seemed like anything significant.

Small talk with customers often included casual conversations about the weather, food, or family.

And if needed, Rober even lent an ear to their grievances or concerns.

So he had answered easily.

[ No, I don’t. ]

Upon hearing that, the noble’s expression had visibly darkened with disappointment.

But his entire demeanor changed with the next sentence.

[ But, I do have a younger sister. ]