Chapter 1

"Hey, Jiboku?"

"Yes, young lady."

In a corner of the vast garden of the duke's mansion, a young girl in a frilly dress faced a slave in tattered clothes.

I am eight years old. The young lady is three.

The young lady, now at an age where she is interested in everything, has started to frequently escape from her room. She would catch the maids and servants within the mansion and bombard them with questions like "What's that?" "What's this?" "Where is this?"

While it was fine when she was inside the mansion, she has recently started to venture into the garden. This has made the master so anxious that he has increased the number of guards to ensure she never leaves the premises. He has also added more dedicated maids to keep a constant watch on her.

The staff has been ordered to report if they find the young lady and not to take their eyes off her.

The young lady, however, seems oblivious to everyone's concerns and enjoys finding ways to shake off the watching maids and get into the garden.

Damn brat.

What might be a fun game of hide-and-seek for the young lady is a harsh and painful game for us servants and slaves. For those of us in the slave class, not only do we face scolding but also whipping. It's unbearable. The dedicated maids take turns, but everyone is reluctant to take on the responsibility, probably out of fear of the master's scolding for doting on the young lady.

We can't handle her roughly, nor can we scold her harshly, so we often allow her to escape.

We slaves, who generally have no work inside the mansion, used to feel safe, but now we are on edge because the young lady has started to venture into the garden.

After all, she is the young lady.

Our jobs as slaves often involve dirty work, such as trimming the garden, cleaning the stables, and grooming the horses. If the young lady gets dirty, the master's scolding is certain. Even the smell is not allowed. In other words, we can't get close to her.

However, if we find her, we can't take our eyes off her.

If she realizes she's been found, she will run away. It's difficult to keep an eye on her from a distance.

One might think that at least reporting her would be a good idea, but what if you find her alone and lose her by the time you bring someone back from the mansion?

In conclusion, punishment is inevitable.

At best, we can only try to prevent her from leaving the premises to avoid more severe consequences.

The young lady is now in front of me, resting in a corner of the garden, thinking of a question to ask: "Hmm, hmm."

The master is a kind person and gives us slaves free time.

One hour.

This is very rare.

Slaves are not supposed to have 'free' time; they must always follow the master's orders.

However, the master gives us one hour a day where we are not assigned any work and are not subject to orders. This is a rare and welcome respite.

Most slaves use this time to rest, but I use it to review the knowledge that other slaves teach me. They share what they learned before they became slaves. It's said that it's good to remember it.

Since I don't get much sleep, I use my free time to review what I've learned to avoid forgetting it. This is how I spend my free time.

The location is important.

We slaves are not pleasant to look at, so if we wander around during our free time and make someone uncomfortable, we will be scolded. There are also noble children who come to serve in the mansion.

So, I started to take my free time in a place where no one would see me, but this turned out to be a bad idea.

One day, while I was writing characters I had learned on the ground with a stick in a secluded corner of the garden, the young lady emerged from the bushes.

Leaves were stuck to her clothes, and spider webs clung to her long, well-groomed golden hair. Her clear blue eyes blinked at me.

"Who are you?"

She tilted her head, and I thought she looked like the angels I had heard about.

That day marked the beginning of my honorable whipping.

I was just answering her question.

The devil must lure people like this. Damn it.

I couldn't accept it, but as a slave, that's just how it is. The other slaves consoled me before I went to sleep that night.

After that, the master gave an order to report if the young lady was seen. The head of the slaves relayed this, but the slaves all made grim faces because of my example. The master dotes on the young lady and wants to always know where she is.

I didn't want to get involved, so I changed my resting place, but when the young lady escaped again, she cried to the master:

"It's not there! Waaaah!"

And so, I received my second honor.

After that, for various reasons—such as not bringing her back immediately or not showing proper judgment—the maids were scolded, and the slaves were whipped. What did they see, anyway?

The master doesn't scold the young lady for escaping, so he directs his anger at us. He wants to be angry, but he can't be angry at his daughter. So, he takes it out on the maids and slaves who were involved.

This is a great inconvenience for the maids and slaves.

The solution they came up with was a human sacrifice.

The head maid and the head slave said that if I stay in a corner of the garden, the young lady will come straight to me without wandering around, making it easier to locate her. I have no objection to this. I didn't object from the start.

Even if the master finds out, the number of victims will be limited to me and the on-duty maid. Well, worst-case scenario.

I modestly suggested that other slaves could do it, but they had already tried and shook their heads. It seems the young lady likes talking to me.

"What did you talk about?"

That was the head slave's question.

At that time, when the young lady, with spider webs in her hair, asked me a question, I simply answered her.

"Who are you?"

"I am a servant."

"Jiboku?"

"Something like that."

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing in particular."

"You are! Look, this! ... What is this?"

"These are characters."

"Huh?"

"Yes, characters."

"Huh! You are! What about, um, cough... this, cough?"

"Something like that."

"Read it!"

"Once upon a time, in a certain place—"

There's nothing strange about it. I'm even conscious of using the polite speech I was taught, and I handle her the way other slaves did when I was a child. I said I was a servant to avoid making her feel uncomfortable, as slaves are considered unclean.

By the way, the characters I wrote said "I'm hungry," but since the young lady doesn't understand characters, I took the opportunity to tell her a story I had heard before, with some improvisation and emotion.

"Then the dragon laughed fiercely and said, 'There's no need to lament. You'll meet me inside my belly soon.'"

"Ugh, scary..."

"Then the dragon smiled gently and said, 'Don't cry. I'm sure you'll meet me soon.'"

"Hmm, hmm."

It went something like that.

Thanks to this, the young lady comes to the corner of the garden every day with high spirits, and if the master finds out, I will be the one to receive the whipping.

It's enough to make me cry.

"Hey! What is that?"

The young lady, having decided on her question, points to the sky. She's probably asking, "Why is the sky blue?"

The standard answer in such situations is "God decided it," but since I'm a slave, I'll give a slave's answer.

"Wouldn't the sky be scary if it were red?"

"Red?"

"Yes, red. The same color as the young lady's dress today."

"Is it?"

"That's right."

The young lady compared her well-made dress with the sky and said softly, "Red."

"That's right. The sky is blue so that the young lady won't be scared."

"...Hmm, hmm. See you—"

As the young lady nodded and prepared to ask her next question, I wished, as always, that I wouldn't receive the whipping today.