When Maurice finished touring the royal palace, it was already six in the evening.
Believing she was both monitoring Dorinia and protecting Maurice, Syvelinde noticed it was getting late, so she took her leave first.
Not long after, a young maid approached Dorinia to relay a new order from the Queen.
That was to bring Maurice, who had spent the whole day both exploring and starving, back to the Queen’s chamber, where the Queen was waiting to dine with him.
Of course, Dorinia complied. On the way back, while there was no one around, she didn’t forget to quietly remind Maurice to be careful around Syvelinde.
As for why she mentioned Syvelinde and not Elvira—
That was simply because Maurice’s attitude toward Elvira was openly hostile, so there was no need for her to remind him.
But Maurice didn’t seem to be nearly as cautious around Syvelinde, which worried her.
Unable to speak the truth, Maurice could only nod and assure her that he understood, and told her to be careful as well. Then, with resolve, he continued on toward the Queen’s chamber.
Watching his unwavering back, Dorinia’s heart filled with respect.
After spending the day with him, she was sure that the real Maurice was even more worthy of respect than the rumors suggested.
As expected, Maurice was a trustworthy person.
With someone who knew her true identity like Maurice staying here, she could occasionally find him to chat and relax—perhaps that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.
“My duty ends here. From now on, I leave things to you.”
After safely escorting Maurice to the Queen’s door, Dorinia handed him over to the two maids waiting at the entrance. Without sparing Maurice a friendly glance or greeting, she turned and left without hesitation.
Watching that somewhat lonely, dignified figure retreat, Maurice felt a hint of helplessness and guilt.
Though he felt sorry for Dorinia, he couldn’t just run away now. At the very least, he needed to confirm how safe this place truly was.
“Sir Maurice, you may go right in.”
Just then, a gentle reminder came from one of the young maids whose name he couldn’t remember, snapping him back to the present.
He nodded politely to the maid who had spoken and pushed the door open to enter the room.
As soon as the door opened, a delicious aroma wafted over to him.
It wasn’t some expensive perfume, but the fragrance of freshly prepared food.
Maurice hadn’t eaten for nearly two days. Originally, he could still endure it, but the moment he smelled the food, he suddenly realized how hungry he truly was.
Still, he knew he’d probably get to eat, but it would come at the cost of his dignity and pride.
That wretched woman Elvira would certainly let him eat his fill, but the process would be full of humiliation and teasing.
Mentally prepared, Maurice stepped inside and looked at the beautiful woman standing by the vanity.
——And then, Maurice’s eyes widened in shock.
From the bottom up: blue, white-heeled shoes exuding elegance; long, slender legs wrapped in white silk, and a tight, sensual waist and hips radiating mature feminine charm; an invitingly ample bosom exposed as if tempting Maurice to reach out and touch.
Up to this point, it was nothing unusual—just Elvira wearing a white silk bunny girl outfit to toy with him.
But the real problem was further up. While the white bunny ears on top seemed fine, the head beneath them was all wrong.
Because, no matter how he looked at it, that face wasn’t the Witch Queen Elvira at all, but the Queen’s aide, Roselia!
“Welcome back, Sir Maurice. You must be tired. Please, have a seat over here.”
What shocked Maurice even more was that this secretary—who was neither dressed as a maid nor in her usual office attire—greeted him with a bright, welcoming smile.
Not only did she speak with a sweet, gentle voice, she even gestured for him to take a seat on the sofa where a sumptuous dinner had been laid out.
If Maurice hadn’t double-checked that he hadn’t entered the wrong room, he might have thought he’d walked into some VIP lounge at a fancy casino.
“…Who are you really? Why are you doing this?”
As tempting as the food was, Maurice suppressed his desire, and eyed the white-silk, blonde bunny girl before him with a cold, wary expression.
“Have you forgotten, Sir Maurice? I’m Roselia, Her Majesty Elvira’s aide and head maid. Didn’t we meet just this morning?”
Roselia didn’t drop her act; instead, she looked puzzled, as if she didn’t understand what Maurice was saying, her face displaying an expression of gentle forbearance.
“…How about changing back into your maid outfit before pretending to be some virtuous lady? If you were really Elvira’s subordinate, there’s no way you’d be dressed so shamelessly in her room to greet me.”
Maurice, unmoving, showed her no courtesy, coldly exposing her disguise with an icy, rational tone.
“…You could’ve just played dumb, but instead you insist on interrogating a woman. Sir Maurice, you really have no sense of chivalry. Don’t you feel ashamed?”
As Maurice finished speaking, Roselia’s formerly gentle smile vanished as if a switch had been flipped. Her entire demeanor underwent a radical transformation.
Where her face had radiated warmth a moment ago, it now brimmed with contempt and disgust. Even her voice turned cold and commanding.
It was as if her entire appearance had changed.
She went from a friendly, kind big sister to a sharp-tongued, domineering lady.
Especially her eyes—they no longer looked at him as a person, but as if she were staring at a completely useless piece of garbage.
“Not at all. For wicked women like you and Elvira, this kind of attitude is only fitting. Sorry, but I’ve always been a bit of a rebellious, dissolute knight.”
Maurice didn’t know why she harbored such intense dislike for him, but he didn’t let her overbearing aura intimidate him. Instead, he calmly retorted.
This was Maurice’s nature, after all. As a dissolute knight, he wasn’t overly bound by the chivalric code—especially when facing villainous women.
Other knights might avert their eyes from Roselia’s provocative outfit, or feel guilty at her mockery.
But Maurice remained utterly unaffected.
If anything, he became even more relaxed and at ease.
After all, only the kind deserve politeness and respect; when dealing with evil, such courtesy is unnecessary.
“It seems you don’t grasp the situation. Why don’t you come and eat first?”
Roselia, as if suppressed by Maurice, reined in much of her harsh demeanor and disdainful gaze.
Still, dressed in her bunny girl outfit, she once again gestured for Maurice to sit—though her face was still quite frosty.
“No need. Rather than eat, I’d rather keep questioning you. Just who are you?”
Naturally, Maurice didn’t comply. He continued pressing for answers while striding slowly but firmly toward her, trying to put pressure on Roselia.
“I already told you, I’m Roselia, Her Majesty’s aide and head maid. There’s nothing questionable about my identity. As for why I’m doing this to you? Obviously because I dislike you. Why else?”
Maurice’s pressure seemed to work a little, but not much.
The golden-haired, white-silk bunny girl was indeed being honest, but her words left Maurice utterly bewildered, and he stopped in his tracks.
Huh? She’s doing all this because she dislikes him?
What kind of logic is that???
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