“Ahaha! Knight Sister, I bought tons of clothes for you!”
“You absolutely must wear them later!”
“Hah…”
Charlotte, chattering excitedly, stood beside Julia.
Sylvia, who was carrying shopping bags in both hands, let out a deep, heartfelt sigh.
They had originally gone out to buy clothes for the children.
How had it turned into the children picking out clothes for her?
And not just any clothes—everything was in children’s sizes…
It was true that she now had the ability to transform into a child, so clothes that fit her smaller form were necessary.
However, buying so many types of clothes in such variety had never been part of the plan.
Why were these kids so thrilled about choosing my clothes…?
‘Well… will my Lord like them?’
Of course, there was nothing wrong with having a collection of cute and pretty outfits.
If things went south, she could even use it as leverage to smooth over a major blunder that could otherwise lead to a pay cut.
Even though the Lord was usually cold and strict with her, he became unexpectedly gentle when she appeared in her child form…
“Sniff Sniff… This smell is…?”
“Excuse me? What did you say?”
“Ah, nothing.”
At that moment, the instant Sylvia stepped inside the main gate of the mansion, an unfamiliar scent tickled her nose.
Sylvia instinctively tensed, her fur standing on end.
It was a type of smell she’d never encountered before, but…
Somehow, she could deduce its nature.
It was a scent her instincts compelled her to remain cautious of and avoid.
‘This is… the scent of a female in heat…?’
It was a scent unlike her own, something she had never encountered before.
Yet Sylvia’s instincts screamed with certainty.
This was unmistakably pheromones radiating intense reproductive desire, emitted by a female.
Her heightened sense of smell, honed as a Sword Master, confirmed it.
“My Lord!?”
“Oh, Sylvia. And you kids. You’re back.”
The door to the annex creaked open.
Aslan stepped out with a nonchalant expression, and clinging to him closely—no, almost plastered against him—was Irene Vermont.
‘My Lord’s chest is wet…?’
What on earth was this thick, overpowering scent from that liquid?
Had that wildcat of a woman finally crossed the line?
How shameless, doing such a thing to her own brother…!
Sylvia gritted her teeth and glared daggers at Irene, her eyes sharp.
Startled, Irene flinched and quickly hid behind Aslan.
Oh, this woman!
‘What exactly happened inside!?’
Wasn’t this the same woman who was always itching to kill the Lord whenever they met?
How had she turned into such a meek lamb—no, a sly fox—while they were out?
Sylvia was overwhelmed by curiosity and frustration, nearly losing her composure.
“Um… Irene, your face is quite red. Are you feeling unwell?”
“Oh, uh… no. It’s just warm.”
Warm?
Warm from what?
Was it because of some… vigorous activity indoors?
Sylvia still wore a suspicious look, prompting Aslan to break the silence.
“We were just reminiscing about the past. Emotions got heated, but everything’s fine now. No need to worry.”
“May I ask what kind of story it was?”
“It was about my secret.”
“…”
My Lord’s secret?
Sylvia could only think of a few things.
Among them, a topic that could provoke strong emotions from Irene Vermont…
Ah, I see.
Sylvia quickly pieced it together.
“So, you were talking about how the Lord is someone from another world, correct?”
“What!? How do you know that…?”
“How could I not? I’ve been guarding—no, monitoring—you for seven years. If someone changes so drastically overnight, it would be stranger not to notice.”
“…”
Sylvia casually unveiled his secret, leaving Aslan momentarily stunned, unable to speak.
No way…
I thought I hid it well…
Was it obvious all along…?
“Oh my. I accidentally spilled your secret. My apologies, my Lord.”
“Aslan! Is that true!?”
“Are you really from another world, Mister? Does that make you an alien!?”
Sylvia feigned remorse while Charlotte and Julia immediately pounced, bombarding Aslan with questions.
Someone from another world?
How could their curiosity not be piqued?
Aslan, sweating under the onslaught of questions, let out a strained laugh.
Irene and Sylvia seemed almost pleased with the revelation that another soul inhabited Aslan Vermont’s body.
Charlotte and Julia, having met Aslan only after his possession, likely didn’t grasp the full weight of the revelation.
In a way, now that the secret was entirely out in the open, Aslan felt oddly at ease.
“Alien… you could call me that, I suppose. After all, I came from a world entirely different from this one.”
“Wow! Mister, that’s amazing!”
“Th-then, what kind of person were you in that world?”
Julia couldn’t contain her curiosity and asked eagerly.
Charlotte, Sylvia, and even Irene quietly turned their attention toward Aslan, their interest piqued.
Feeling all eyes on him, Aslan glanced around briefly before clearing his throat.
“Ahem. If you’re that curious… In the world I came from, I was an influential critic.”
“A critic? What’s that?”
“It’s someone who gives credible evaluations of electronic entertainment products to help consumers make rational decisions. It’s a profession that garners significant social respect.”
“Wow! I don’t really get it, but you must’ve been incredible!”
“Aslan, you were amazing there and here too…”
Charlotte and Julia looked up at Aslan with admiration shining in their eyes.
Meanwhile, Irene and Sylvia, their skepticism evident, scrutinized every nuance of Aslan’s behavior.
‘Confident demeanor. No trembling in his voice. Natural facial expressions. He doesn’t seem to be lying… Is he delusional instead?’
‘Lady Laura’s insight says the last sentence was a blatant lie. The earlier parts mix truth and falsehood in a fine balance…’
Despite the obviously dubious nature of his answer, both Sylvia and Irene chose not to call him out.
Seeing the children so ecstatic and looking up to Aslan, they felt guilty about ruining the moment.
Besides, what did it matter if he fabricated his past profession from a world he’d left behind?
“But there were those who disliked my harsh reviews. One of them retaliated, and through some sinister power, I was sent to this world.”
“Really!? So you were forced to leave the place where you’d lived your whole life?”
“Are you okay, Aslan…?”
“I’m fine. After all, I have you all by my side.”
“Mister!”
“Aslan!”
Aslan responded with a wry smile, and Charlotte and Julia, teary-eyed, threw themselves into his arms.
Watching this display, Sylvia and Irene instinctively realized.
This guy didn’t have any family or close friends left in that other world, did he?
Even though he was pretending to reminisce wistfully, his lack of regret since arriving here was telling.
If anything, he seemed thankful for being forced into this world.
Could someone adapt so quickly to being exiled from their original world?
Far from regret, he seemed 100% content with his new life.
It was almost enough to make one doubt if he truly came from another world at all.
“I guess I’ll leave now since my business here is done.”
“I’ll lend you a carriage. Take it.”
“Thanks…”
When Irene lowered her head and responded softly, shyly, Sylvia nearly let out a yell in shock.
Who was this angelic young woman?
Was she really the same foul-tempered Irene Vermont?
Soon, Aslan finished seeing Irene off, and the carriage carrying her disappeared into the distance.
Exhausted from their long outing, the children scampered off to claim the bath first, leaving Sylvia alone with Aslan.
Her pent-up suspicions flared anew as she fixed him with a piercing gaze.
“My Lord.”
“Y-Yes?”
“Don’t try to run away, my Lord.”
“I mean, I wouldn’t if you stopped glaring at me like that.”
Thud.
Backing away, Aslan bumped into a wall, and Sylvia seized his shoulders, pinning him in place.
What’s gotten into her? he wondered, as Sylvia suddenly leaned in and sniffed at his chest.
Her expression darkened further, and her glare sharpened.
“The liquid on your chest. What is it? And what exactly happened inside? As your guard, I must know.”
“What kind of nonsense is that?”
“Answer me quickly. This is urgent.”
“It’s tears, isn’t it? Can’t you tell? I was comforting my sister while she cried.”
“…What?”
Aslan sighed in exasperation and replied matter-of-factly.
Sylvia froze in surprise, her suspicions momentarily disarmed.
His natural expression and tone suggested he wasn’t lying.
So, the ‘thing’ I imagined didn’t happen…?
And the liquid on his clothes wasn’t ‘that kind of substance’ but simply tears…?
It was all just my overactive imagination…?
Sylvia’s face flushed crimson in an instant.
