Chapter 816: You Can’t Join My Harem
Happy looked up in surprise.
Standing before her was a beautiful maid with glasses, her dark hair pulled back in an elegant bun.
Her expression was composed, but her eyes were warm and kind.
It was Portia. She’d noticed Happy eyeing the treats and had been moved to help.
She held out her tray, which was laden with beautifully decorated cakes.
"Do you want one?"
Happy’s mouth watered at the sight. The cakes were so pretty, so perfect, with swirls of cream and glistening fruit on top.
But then reality crashed back down.
She shook her head, forcing herself to look away.
"No, no, it’s alright, Big Sister." She fidgeted nervously with her hands. "I’m a maid of the Fulham family. I’m not allowed to indulge in treats like this. They’re only reserved for nobles."
She looked up with watery eyes, forcing a sad little smile. "So it’s alright. I don’t need anything."
Portia’s heart melted. She knew about the Fulhams, a minor noble family with major pretensions, notorious for treating their staff poorly.
To see this child, who couldn’t be more than thirteen or fourteen, already learning to deny herself basic pleasures...
"Open your mouth, little one." Portia said gently, bending down to her level.
Happy blinked in confusion. "W-What?"
"Just open your mouth, dear."
Confused but trusting, Happy opened her mouth.
Portia quickly popped a small cake inside before Happy could protest.
"Hmmm—!"
Happy’s eyes went wide and she started to panic.
She’d done something wrong, she’d eaten something she shouldn’t have, she was going to be punished—
And then the taste hit her.
The strawberry cream melted on her tongue, sweet and velvety.
The raspberry jam burst with tart, fruity flavor.
The cake itself was perfectly moist and soft, almost like biting into a cloud.
"SO TASTY!" Happy squealed, her hands flying to her cheeks. "How can a cake be SO tasty?"
She was rubbing her cheeks, her eyes squeezed shut in pure bliss. All her worries, all her fears, had completely vanished in that single moment of joy.
But then reality crashed back down.
"Oh no, oh no, oh no!" Happy spun around frantically. "I ate a cake! A cake reserved for nobles! I’m going to be punished! They’re going to throw me in prison!"
"They’re going to throw me to the loan sharks! They’re going to—"
Portia gently patted her head.
"It’s alright, little one. There’s nothing wrong with eating a cake or two. I can assure you that nothing bad will happen to you."
Her voice carried such calm certainty that Happy found herself believing her.
The panic subsided, replaced by lingering awe at the taste still on her tongue.
"Did you like that cake?" Portia asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yes, Big Sister! I loved it!"
Happy nodded so vigorously her ribbon threatened to come loose.
"I’ve eaten bits and pieces of leftover cake back at the mansion, and I already thought that was good. But this..."
She spread her arms wide, as if trying to encompass the sheer magnitude of the experience.
"It’s the best cake I’ve ever had in my life!"
Then her expression shifted.
The joy was still there, but overlaid with hesitation, as if she were weighing whether to speak a thought she knew she shouldn’t.
Portia noticed immediately.
"What is it, little one? It’s obvious you have something on your mind. You can just go ahead and say it. I won’t judge you or anything."
Happy was still hesitant, but the kindness in Portia’s eyes gave her courage.
"It’s just...the cake is so good. And I want to let my mother taste it too. Just like me, my mother loves treats. I always share any treats I get with her."
She looked down sadly.
"But even if I sneak a piece and bring it back, it would take two days to return home. By then, the cake would be completely spoiled, and it wouldn’t be tasty at all."
She fiddled with her hands nervously.
"So I was wondering..." She looked up with hopeful eyes. "If it would be alright if I could get the recipe?"
"Of course, I don’t want the entire recipe!" She quickly added. "I know the chefs are quite guarded over them."
"But maybe some guidelines or tips I could use to make a cake like this?"
Hearing this adorable request from those twinkling eyes, Portia felt something tighten in her chest.
This child, who had so little, wanted to give her mother a taste of joy.
It was a simple, beautiful wish—and one that resonated deeply with Portia’s own hidden pains.
The truth was...Portia was infertile.
It was the great, unspoken tragedy of her life, the reason her marriage had crumbled.
In a world that valued women primarily for their ability to bear children, her inability to do so had marked her as broken. Less than.
But Cassius had changed everything. He’d accepted her, comforted her, and promised her that every child in the household would be hers too.
"You’ll be Mother Portia to all of them." Isabelle had said firmly, taking her hand. "And there’s no love purer than that chosen, not given by blood."
It had healed something in her.
And now this child, this little maid with her simple wish to bake a cake for her mother...
Portia reached out and gently pinched Happy’s cheek.
"You’re just so adorable." She murmured, her voice thick with emotion she couldn’t quite name. "To want to go to such lengths to bring your mother some cake...you really must love her, huh?"
"I do, Big Sister. I love Mother the most in the world."
Happy nodded, her expression serious beyond her years.
"She’s the kindest person ever and she always takes care of me. I want to lighten up her spirits as well and be a good daughter."
The words were like a key turning in a long-locked door in Portia’s heart. She made a decision.
"Normally." She said, her voice taking on a mock-stern tone. "I don’t give out secrets about the dishes to anyone out here."
"I’ve already had multiple nobles ask for this recipe, and I’ve adamantly refused them all."
Happy’s face fell. The hope drained from her eyes, replaced by polite resignation.
"Oh. Of course. I understand, Big Sister. It was too much to ask—"
"But." Portia interrupted, her stern expression melting into a warm smile. "Since the request is coming from an adorable little bunny like you, how could I possibly refuse?"
Happy’s eyes trembled in joy. "You mean it!?"
Portia nodded. "I’ll give you the recipe, dear. You can go ahead and make plenty of cakes for your mother back at home."
The joy that transformed Happy’s face was so bright it seemed to generate its own light.
But then Portia held up a finger.
"There’s just one thing. The truth is, the one who made this cake isn’t me or any of the maids or the chefs in the household."
Happy blinked. "Then who...?"
"It’s actually my Young Master." Portia said.
Happy gasped. "Young Master Cassius? The Third Young Master of the Holyfield estate?"
Portia nodded. But then Happy’s expression grew troubled.
"But...I’ve heard rumors that he’s a really bad person. They say little girls like me shouldn’t go near him."
Portia shook her head, pulling Happy’s cheeks affectionately.
"Those are all just rumors, my darling. My young master is a completely different person from what they say. If there’s a saint in this world, he’s the only person who deserves that title."
Happy found it hard to believe.
She’d heard so many terrible things about Cassius—how he stole women, how he was depraved, how he was the worst noble in the entire continent.
But Portia’s eyes held no doubt. Only conviction.
"If you want the recipe." Portia continued. "Then you’ll need to ask him yourself."
Happy’s eyes went wide with alarm.
"If I do that, he won’t eat me, right?" She asked in a small voice. "My mother told me that I’m so cute that sometimes bad people want to eat me up!"
Portia couldn’t help but laugh, a genuine, warm sound that surprised even her.
"What your mother is saying is true." She said, leaning closer conspiratorially. "You’re so cute that even I want to gobble you up into my tummy."
She gave Happy’s cheeks one last affectionate squeeze before straightening.
"But my Young Master, on the other hand, will most probably give you a bunch of head pats and won’t eat you up. So you can go ahead without worrying about anything and ask him for the recipe."
Portia’s expression suddenly grew sad as she added,
"He hasn’t been in the best mood lately. But I’m sure seeing someone who loves his dish and wants to learn his recipe will lift his spirits."
She pointed across the garden. "He’s right over there."
Happy followed Portia’s gaze across the crowded garden.
Her eyes found a man sitting somewhat apart from the others, and for a moment, she simply stared.
So this was Young Master Cassius.
The rumors had painted a monster. A leering, dangerous figure dripping with malice and ill intent.
But the man before her was...none of those things.
He was handsome, yes—with messy black hair that looked like he’d run his hands through it one too many times, and crimson eyes that seemed to catch and hold the lantern light.
He wore simple clothes compared to the peacocks around him, as if he couldn’t be bothered with showing off his wealth.
But it wasn’t his appearance that struck her.
It was his...presence. Or rather, his absence of it.
He sat at a small table, a glass of wine mostly untouched before him. Around him, the party swirled—laughter, music, the clink of glasses, the buzz of a hundred conversations.
But he seemed separate from it all, wrapped in a bubble of silence.
His eyes were distant, fixed on nothing, seeing something or someone who wasn’t there.
Every so often, he’d take a sip of wine, the movement automatic, thoughtless. Then he’d return to his stillness.
He looked...lonely.
The kind of loneliness that comes from missing someone so profoundly their absence becomes a presence in itself.
Seeing this, Happy felt an unexpected pang of sympathy.
Here was a man who, by all accounts, had everything. And yet he looked like a man who had lost something precious.
She almost didn’t want to disturb him. His sorrow felt private, sacred somehow.
But then she thought of her mother’s face lighting up at a homemade cake.
She thought of the recipe. She thought of Portia’s assurance that Cassius was kind.
She gathered her courage—all the little bits she’d scraped together from surviving her father’s rages, the head maid’s cruelty, the general hardness of her life and began to walk.
The distance across the garden felt immense.
Every step brought her closer to the man everyone whispered about, the man her master had warned her against.
She reached his table. Even with him sitting, he seemed tall. Imposing. She had to crane her neck to look up at him.
"E-Excuse me, Young Master Cassius?" She said, her voice coming out smaller than she intended.
She tried to make it more formal, more maid-like.
"Can I have a moment of your time?"
For a second, nothing happened. He didn’t seem to have heard her. Then, slowly, as if pulling himself back from a great distance, he turned his head.
His crimson eyes focused on her.
Happy felt her breath catch. There was an intensity to his gaze. For a heartbeat, she understood why people might fear him.
There was power there, tightly controlled but undeniable.
But then his expression softened.
A small smile appeared on his face, and the intimidating aura vanished.
"What is it, little maid?" He asked, his voice teasing. "Have you fallen for this Young Master after seeing how dashing I am?"
Happy blinked, completely caught off guard.
"If you have, I must apologize." Cassius continued, his tone playful. "No matter how cute you are, I can’t accept little kids like you in my harem. I’ll have to disappoint you and send you away."
The words should have been alarming.
Threatening, even.
But his eyes were warm, his smile genuine and he was teasing her. Actually teasing her, like she was a person, not just a maid.
The realization made something loosen in her chest. She shook her head, her orange hair flying.
"No, no, Young Master! I had no such thoughts! I wouldn’t dare to think of getting such a noble position from you!"
He chuckled, a soft, pleasant sound.
"Then what is it, little maid? Why exactly have you come to me?"
He leaned forward slightly, his expression turning mock-serious.
"I’m pretty sure you’ve heard the rumors about me. Aren’t you scared that I’ll just kidnap you and make you stay?"
"Put you in a small little cage like the little animal you are?"
