Misha Strauss was the third daughter of an impoverished rural noble family.
Not a son, and the youngest child at that.
Naturally, she couldn’t inherit the family estate, and as for political marriages—well, her family was too insignificant to secure any decent prospects.
A mistress to a perverted noble twice her age, the wife of some mediocre guildmaster, or the third wife of a wealthy ndowner.
Perhaps it was because Misha’s beauty was exceptional, or perhaps her father was simply too incompetent.
Most likely, it was both.
Every marriage proposal her father brought her was little more than a contract for sexual svery.
At first, Misha had been prepared to accept it.
After all, the comfortable life she had lived until now had been funded by the taxes extracted from their subjects.
If offering her body to some stranger could secure financial support for their territory, then she truly believed she ought to endure it alone.
But in the end, that was nothing more than the resolve of a child.
Her resolve shattered on the day she was to have a tea party with her fiancé.
Arriving at the venue first, Misha had expected—based on the fact that her fiancé was over twice her age—a dashing, handsome man.
But what appeared instead was a monstrous pig.
An ugly man whose entire body jiggled with every step, his greasy sweat flying as he moved.
The moment the pig-like monster id eyes on Misha, his gaze crawled over her—first her face, then her chest, stomach, waist, hips, and legs—before he grinned obscenely.
From now on… I’ll have to endure being with this thing?
And not just for a decade or so.
With her mixed blood, Misha would retain her youth and beauty for at least several more decades.
She would be trapped in this hell until the man before her grew tired of her—
The moment that thought crossed her mind, Misha fled the venue at full speed.
After running away, Misha ignored her father’s rage and began searching for employment.
The conventional wisdom was that noblewomen should obey their family heads—but the result of following that wisdom had been that.
She would stand on her own. She had no intention of remaining her father’s pawn any longer.
Misha threw herself into the job hunt, cutting off all ties—whether it was her father’s threats or the veiled coercion from her ex-fiancé.
Yet finding work proved difficult.
After all, if she took up menial bor at some shop, her father could simply drag her back home whenever he pleased.
She needed a workpce that could defy noble influence—somewhere even an exceptionally beautiful girl could work safely.
Such pces were few and far between.
After months of relentless searching, she finally found one employer that fit all her requirements.
The Endenberg baronial family was hiring maids.
They held more influence than Misha’s own family, and the distance between the two estates minimized the risk of her being forcibly retrieved.
The job posting also mentioned a preference for candidates with refined education—another point in Misha’s favor.
Around that time, her father had begun making moves to arrange another marriage, and her ex-fiancé’s pressure had intensified.
If this didn’t work out, her life would literally be over.
Perhaps sensing her desperation, Misha managed to pass the interview—despite competition hundreds of times over—and proudly became a maid.
Misha’s first assignment as a maid was, surprisingly, as the personal attendant to the youngest son of House Endenberg.
A child who might one day inherit the noble house.
It was one of the most prestigious positions among the servants, but as a noble herself, Misha knew how unnatural it was for a newcomer like her to be assigned such a role.
Normally, such a child would be surrounded by trusted, capable retainers.
And as expected, the arrangement turned out to be unusual.
"So you’re my new attendant? Eh, just do whatever."
What’s with this brat?
That was her first impression of Norwin von Endenberg, the third son of House Endenberg.
Despite being a young child, his eyes were lifeless.
No matter what he did, he showed no motivation—no drive to engage with anything at all.
A boy who simply stared bnkly into space, sighing listlessly.
That was Norwin.
She didn’t know the full reason, but given how the family head and his wife treated Norwin as if he weren’t even family, it was clear there were extraordinary circumstances at py.
This is ridiculous, Misha thought.
She had escaped her family’s political marriage only to nd in the middle of some mess in her new workpce.
But if she lost this job, the only future awaiting her was as that monster’s sex sve.
She had no choice but to continue as Norwin’s attendant.
??
"Young master, it’s time for breakfast."
"...Got it."
??
"Young master, you have no pns for today. What would you like to do?"
"Oh, that. There’s never anything."
"That’s—"
??
"Young master, if you’re free, perhaps we could study?"
"No thanks."
??
Upon working with him, Misha found Norwin to be a child who required no effort at all.
For whatever reason, Norwin never once compined about the Endeberg family's demand that he refrain from learning any skills.
With eyes that seemed to have given up on everything, he would nod mechanically, becoming little more than a statue.
Occasionally, a bored expression would flicker across his face, but otherwise, he remained expressionless—a pitiful child.
Yes, pitiful.
Though not to the same extent as Norwin, Misha herself had suffered due to her family’s circumstances in the past, and so she sympathized with him.
A child his age should have been showered with unconditional love from his parents, his days filled with smiles.
So why had he been abandoned by everyone, to the point where his heart had rotted away so much that he couldn’t even muster sadness?
But meddling in the affairs of another noble house—one even more powerful than her own family—would only bring ruin upon herself.
If that happened, there would be no hope left. What awaited her wouldn’t be the warmth of her family nor this expressionless child, but rather the greasy clutches of that monstrous pig.
In the end, Misha spent the next half a year quietly, unable to do anything.
The change came six months after Misha became Norwin’s exclusive attendant.
One morning, as she headed to the annex to wake him, a shrill scream erupted from his room.
"Aaaaaaaaaaah!!!"
The sound of a child on the verge of madness. Thinking that the poor Norwin had finally broken, Misha rushed to his room—but the scream stopped as abruptly as it had begun.
Hesitantly, she knocked on the door, only to be met with an unexpectedly calm voice from inside.
"Ah, it’s nothing. Please don’t worry about it."
Calm. Too calm.
The scream she had heard couldn’t have been an illusion. That meant Norwin had indeed felt an emotion strong enough to provoke such a reaction. And yet, the voice that answered her was eerily composed—and his tone was different from usual.
Misha had once heard that when people endure unbearable pain, they sometimes create another personality within themselves as a defense mechanism.
A shield to protect their true self.
Perhaps Norwin was in such a state now.
She wanted to help him. But considering her own situation, she couldn’t afford to make an enemy of the Endeberg family.
At the very least, shouldn’t she stand by his side when no one else was watching?
Having recently turned sixteen, Misha was beginning to develop genuine affection for Norwin.
The real trouble came a few hours ter.
When she went to check on him, she found Norwin colpsed on the floor.
Fortunately, he woke up soon after, but even then, his demeanor didn’t waver in the slightest.
He refused to show weakness to anyone, ftly rejecting the idea of calling a doctor. The only time he seemed pained was when he insisted that his family wouldn’t be concerned either.
The darkness within the Endeberg family that Misha knew nothing about. The young Norwin looked tormented, but even that vulnerability was swiftly buried behind his usual bnk expression.
—I have to protect him.
Unaware of the circumstances surrounding Norwin—and oblivious to the fact that another presence had taken hold of him—Misha quietly steeled her resolve.
—That’s why, when Norwin spoke to her first, she was overjoyed.
"Will you help me?"
There was no way she could refuse that plea.
