Chapter 285: Kamail and Betty

Kamail entered Gawain’s study, but the lord himself was nowhere to be seen. Only the little maid, who looked a bit dazed, was waiting inside.

“Mr. Kamail,” Betty said as soon as she saw him drift in through the door, holding a large teapot in both hands. “The master stepped out for a moment. He said he’d be back soon and asked you to wait here.”

After all the thinking and reflection he’d done along the way, Kamail’s mood had settled somewhat. Hearing Betty’s words, he felt a small relief—at least he had a few more minutes to compose himself and organize his findings before Gawain returned.

“Did he say where he went?” Kamail asked casually, settling into a corner of the study.

“The master went to the laboratory,” Betty replied, trying hard to recall what she’d heard from Gawain. “He said there was something uncertain on the blueprints that needed further testing… um… testing the ‘data’! That’s the word he used.”

“Data? Blueprints?” Kamail’s curiosity was piqued. “What kind of data?”

Betty thought carefully, then straightened up with a proud little puff of her chest. “I forgot!”

Kamail was speechless. She’d forgotten, not just didn’t know—meaning Gawain must have told her more, but she clearly hadn’t remembered. Not surprising, really.

Kamail knew Betty. Though just a maid, she had reportedly followed the lord through thick and thin, earning the family’s deep trust and affection. He’d often seen the little girl bustling about the manor, sometimes even sitting in the study practicing her writing alongside the lord. Such a unique child naturally left a strong impression on him.

So Kamail not only recognized Betty but knew a bit about her: that she was a little absent-minded, loved writing, and often forgot things that were hard for her to understand. Frankly, Kamail couldn’t quite grasp how such an unreliable maid had become head housekeeper, managing the entire manor staff so well.

He could only conclude that the lord was far too lenient with his servants. But Kamail wasn’t one to judge; as a researcher, he rarely cared about anything beyond academic matters.

While waiting, Kamail turned his attention to a large map hanging on the study wall. It depicted a vast area around the estate, rendered with astonishing detail—far beyond what one would expect from a society stuck in a technological dark age. Betty stood nearby, holding the teapot, watching him thoughtfully, as if wrestling with some inner conflict.

After a moment, Betty finally spoke up. “Mr. Kamail, would you like some tea?”

Kamail blinked, turning to the earnest little maid and awkwardly waving his hand. “Ah, no thank you.”

Betty blinked back, then returned to the table with the teapot. “Oh.”

But not long after, she came back again. “Mr. Kamail, would you like some tea?”

Kamail sighed. “…Really, no thanks, little miss.”

“…Oh.”

A short while later, Betty’s voice sounded a third time behind him. “Mr. Kamail, would you like some tea?”

At this point, Kamail realized he couldn’t focus on the map any longer. He turned around, trying his best to hide his embarrassment. “Little miss, haven’t you noticed I don’t have a mouth?”

Betty seemed to finally understand, her eyes widening in realization. She let out a soft “Oh…” and, a bit disappointed, set the teapot down on the desk.

Watching the dazed little girl, Kamail suddenly felt compelled to say something. After hesitating, he managed a dry remark: “But thank you for the tea all the same.”

“The master said to always serve tea to guests,” Betty said, looking downcast. “But I always feel like I don’t do it right…”

“You’ve done your best. It’s just that I’m a very unusual guest—probably no maid knows how to serve someone like me,” Kamail said, not sure why he was opening up to this small maid, but unable to stop himself. “How long have you served the Cecil family?”

This time Betty counted seriously—she’d never been good at keeping track of years before, but now she could count and understand things she hadn’t before. “Six years. But the first two years, I was just helping Mrs. Hansen wash dishes…”

She was only sixteen now. So she’d been sold to the castle as a servant at ten? A dishwashing child maid?

Kamail knew he had no right to pry further, but he couldn’t help himself. “Do you like this life?”

“…I don’t know,” Betty said, clearly never having thought about it. She paused before answering, “But Miss Rebecca and the Viscount are very kind to me, and Lady Hetty, and the master—they’re all very good to me. And when I was little, my family was always hungry. Since I came to the castle, we’ve all been able to eat our fill…”

It took Kamail a few seconds to grasp the meaning behind her words: Betty had a lowly servant’s ration inside the castle, while her family, sold for money, had one less mouth to feed.

This was the harsh survival strategy of the lowest class in this era, often requiring luck—since the lord didn’t always need to buy servants.

This was common knowledge for people of this time, but for Kamail, who came from the height of the Gondor Empire, it was almost unimaginable.

Yet he couldn’t change the reality of the era. After a long pause, he summed it up with a sigh: “It’s a cruel age.”

“The master said the same thing,” Betty suddenly said. “But I don’t understand what he means.”

“The lord said that too?”

“Yes. He said this era is cruel, and that he wants to build a new order or something…” Betty tried hard to recall. “Anyway, it’s complicated. I heard him say it to Miss Rebecca and Lady Hetty.”

“I see…” Kamail listened quietly, murmuring softly, “That’s understandable. He lived through the glorious age and can’t bear the ignorance and darkness now.”

Betty stared at Kamail blankly, not really understanding his muttered words. Kamail glanced down at her and suddenly realized why he’d been so willing to talk so much to this little girl.

“I once had a sister… ah, she didn’t look like you, but the last time I saw her, she was about your age,” the ancient mage said quietly. “Back then… she loved to make tea for me.”

Betty blinked. “Was your sister a great mage too?”

“No… she had no magical talent. Just an ordinary person. She died of illness before she became an adult,” Kamail said calmly. “If not for that, I might never have left the imperial capital or joined the ‘Rebellion’ project.”

Betty lowered her head. “Hmm…”

“That’s all in the past,” Kamail said, bowing his head. He reached out to touch Betty’s hair, but before his hand—charged with arcane energy—could make contact, tiny sparks of magic flickered around her head. Seeing this, the ancient mage slowly withdrew his hand with a sigh. “Ah…”

Betty felt an itch on her scalp and scratched her head. When she looked up again, Kamail had already drifted away. Their conversation was over.

The little maid didn’t understand what had happened and returned to the desk, lost in thought.

Not long after, the study door opened. Gawain came in carrying a roll of blueprints. Seeing Kamail seemingly studying the bookshelves and Betty standing by the desk in a daze, he smiled. “Getting impatient waiting?”

Kamail turned and floated over to Gawain. “No, I was just chatting with the little maid. Not boring at all.”

Betty hurried over with the teapot. “Master, Mr. Kamail won’t drink tea! He says he doesn’t have a mouth…”

“Ahem, alright, alright,” Gawain said, awkwardly patting Betty’s head. “You can go rest now. I don’t need anyone here for a while.”

“Okay!”

Betty scampered out, leaving Gawain looking a bit embarrassed as he faced Kamail. “She can be a bit blunt sometimes…”

“That’s fine. I don’t mind. She’s a very sweet girl,” Kamail said softly. “Lord, I have something to report.”

Gawain, who had been about to show Kamail his cannon design ideas, paused. “Oh? What is it?”

“It’s about those aberrations,” Kamail’s expression was unreadable, but his tone was serious. “I think… I know where they come from.”

“You figured out the origin of the aberrations?” Gawain’s face instantly grew grave. He strode to the desk and casually dropped the blueprints. “Where do they come from?”

“We made them,” Kamail said slowly. “They’re a product of the Rebellion project.”

“…”

Gawain was silent for nearly ten seconds. Even Kamail felt uneasy. Then Gawain shook his head with a quiet laugh. “So that really is the answer…”

“You suspected it?”

“Just a guess,” Gawain exhaled. “After learning about your Rebellion project, I recalled some intelligence I encountered when I escaped the ruins of Gondor. I had a hunch about this, but I never expected… it would be true. Tell me everything. How did you find out?”

“Miss Tyr gave me a sample of an aberration—cleaned of chaotic mana so it could be analyzed magically. In that sample, I found signs of Type II genetic mutation, which matches the traits of the ‘Divine Abominations’ we created.”

“Sit down,” Gawain sighed and took a seat behind the desk, gesturing to a chair beside him. “We need to have a serious talk about this.”

(End of chapter)