Chapter 817: Pretty Little Thing
As Cassius spoke, he reached out and gently twirled a strand of her orange hair around his finger.
It was a familiar gesture, one her own master sometimes made, usually when he was drunk and in a playful mood that made Happy’s skin crawl.
But this was different.
Cassius’s touch was light. Gentle. There was no possessiveness in it, no hint of threat.
It felt...affectionate. Like an older brother teasing a younger sibling.
Happy found herself relaxing.
"To be honest." She admitted, her voice gaining confidence. "I was a bit scared at first. Since I’ve heard so many rumors about you, and they’re all very bad, Young Master."
Cassius’s smile didn’t falter.
"But." Happy continued, emboldened. "Big Sister over there—" She pointed back. "—told me that you’re actually a really nice young master, and I can come here and ask you a favor."
Cassius followed her gesture, saw Portia, and his expression softened further.
Portia’s gentle meddling, her attempt to cheer him up through this child touched something in him.
"Then what exactly is this favor, little maid?" He asked, his voice gentler now.
Happy took a deep breath.
"I actually want the recipe to your cake dish, Young Master. You know, the cake dish with strawberry jam inside?"
Her eyes lit up as she described it. "I just tasted it right now, and it’s absolutely amazing! I want to bring this whole cake over to my mother back home as well."
She looked down, suddenly aware of how presumptuous her request was.
"Of course I won’t ask it for free!"
She pulled a small, worn pouch from a pocket in her uniform. It jingled faintly.
"I’ve saved up a couple of copper coins in my pouch. You can have that as well. As long as you give me the recipe, I can hand over all of my savings!"
But the moment the words left her mouth, she realized how absurd they were.
She was offering copper coins, probably not even enough to buy a single ingredient for the cake to one of the richest men on the continent.
Her cheeks flushed crimson. She wanted to sink into the ground.
But Cassius didn’t laugh. He looked at her earnest face, at the carefully saved coins in the worn pouch and something in him softened.
The heavy sadness that had been clinging to him like a cloak seemed to lighten, just a little.
He chuckled, but it was a warm sound. "There’s no need, little maid." He said gently. "If you want the recipe, I can hand it over to you without any compensation."
Happy’s head shot up. "Really, Young Master?"
Cassius nodded. He made a slight gesture with his hand, and suddenly a piece of paper and a pen appeared from nowhere.
From a spatial ring, Happy realized with awe. She’d heard of such magic but never seen it.
Happy watched, mesmerized, as the recipe took form on the page. But not just a list of ingredients, but detailed instructions, little tips in the margins
(Let the eggs warm to room temperature for a fluffier texture)
(Don’t overmix the batter or it’ll be tough)
Finally, he finished. He blew on the ink to dry it, then handed it to her.
Happy took it with trembling hands, holding it as if it were made of glass and gold.
"Thank you, Young Master." She whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "Thank you so much!"
She was about to turn away, to rush back to Portia and show her the precious paper, when Cassius spoke again.
"I’ve been calling you little maid this whole time." He said curiously. "But I never got a chance to ask your name. So what exactly is it little maid?"
Happy froze. She’d been hoping to avoid this. Her name...it was silly. Childish. The kind of name nobles laughed at.
"I-It’s alright, Young Master." She said, looking down. "There’s no need for you to know this lowly one’s name."
"Go on." Cassius insisted gently. "I’m giving you my recipe. I think I deserve to know who’s going to be bearing it."
Happy swallowed and finally said,
"It’s Happy, Young Master. My name is Happy."
"That’s what my mother named me long ago."
She braced herself for the usual laughter.
But it never came.
"Happy." He said slowly. "What a wonderful name. Your mother probably wanted you to have a happy life when she named you."
Happy’s heart swelled. This was the first time anyone had ever understood her name the way her mother intended.
Not as a joke, not as something silly, but as a blessing.
Before she could respond, a stern voice cut through the air.
"Happy! Come over here!"
Happy jumped, spinning around. Her master, the middle-aged head of the Fulham household was calling for her.
His expression was stern, his tone demanding.
"Coming, Master!" She turned back to Cassius, bowing quickly. "Thank you for the recipe, Young Master, Cassius!"
"I’ll absolutely cherish it! If there’s ever a chance in the future, I’ll try to bake this cake for you—so you can check if I’m doing the dish justice!"
She gave him a bright smile before running off to her master.
Cassius watched her go, a genuine smile on his face for the first time in days.
—
Happy hurried back to her master, her heart heavy. She’d wanted to stay with Cassius, who had been so warm and kind.
But she couldn’t. She had her duties.
When she reached her master, Lord Fulham, he looked down at her with cold, indifferent eyes.
"What were you talking about with that brat Cassius?"
Happy felt uneasy. The way he said it, so full of contempt made her uncomfortable.
But she kept her expression neutral.
"It was nothing, Master. He simply wanted me to do a small favor."
"There’s no need to do anything for him." Her master scoffed. "The favors he’ll ask are all futile, especially towards little girls like you."
"You should know better than to associate with someone as depraved as him."
Happy wanted to argue. She wanted to tell her master that Cassius wasn’t like the rumors at all—that he was kind and warm and nothing like the monster everyone believed him to be.
But she just nodded obediently. "Yes, Master."
Lord Fulham handed her an empty plate.
"Forget about what he said. Go to the kitchen and refill this pasta dish—the red one. Even though this mansion is small compared to the main estate, they still have decent chefs."
"The pasta is particularly good!"
Happy took the plate, her expression still blank.
"Yes, Master. I’ll be back in an instant."
She hurried inside, desperately wanting to escape her master’s cold presence.
But the moment she was alone, her face fell. She was just a maid again, full of responsibilities and expectations.
The warmth she’d felt with Cassius was already fading.
But she clutched the recipe in her pocket like it was her most precious possession. She would make this cake for her mother. No matter what.
Now, if she could just find the kitchen...
She wandered through the corridors, getting hopelessly lost.
The mansion was massive, far larger than the one she served in. She’d tried to find someone to ask for directions, but the hallways were eerily empty.
She was starting to panic, wondering how long she’d been gone, when she finally heard footsteps.
’Thank goodness.’ She thought. ’Someone’s coming! I can finally ask for directions!’
But the moment she saw who it was, her blood went cold.
Standing at the end of the corridor was a man with messy purple hair and lazy, cruel eyes.
He was handsome in the way a snake was beautiful, alluring but deadly.
Darius Valheim. The third young master of the Valheim family.
Even though Happy had never interacted with him, she knew exactly who he was. The rumors about him were far worse than the ones about Cassius.
Unlike Cassius, whose reputation was built on gossip and exaggeration, Darius’s was built on truth.
He preyed on women. He took them from their homes, their families, their husbands. Anyone who got in his way was killed without hesitation. The women he took were never heard from again.
He was a monster. A genuine, irredeemable monster.
Behind him stood his butler, maids, and knights.
Happy felt like a little lamb facing a wolf. She was trembling, clutching the plate so hard her knuckles were white.
She wanted to run, but her legs wouldn’t move.
Meanwhile, Darius who had just arrived gazed lazily over her small form.
At first, he seemed uninterested—just another servant, nothing special. But then he looked closer.
Her puffy cheeks. Her innocent eyes. Her trembling form.
The adorable way she was so obviously terrified.
A slow, cruel grin spread across his face.
"Look what we have here." He purred, stepping closer. "A little mouse all alone in the big, empty hallway..."
Happy backed away, but she hit the wall behind her. There was nowhere to run.
Darius laughed, low and menacing.
"Don’t be scared, little one. I don’t bite..." He grinned, showing his teeth. "Well, not unless you want me to."
He’d been on his way to join the party, to mingle with his so-called peers, to play the games of politics and power that bored him to tears.
But this...this was much more interesting.
An appetizer before the main course.
And the appetizer looked absolutely delicious in its terror.
"M-Master Valheim." She finally managed to whisper, the words barely audible. "I...I was just looking for the kitchen. My master sent me..."
"Your master?" Darius interrupted, his eyebrow arching. "And who might that be?"
"L-Lord Fulham, sir."
Darius made a dismissive sound.
"Fulham. Minor family. Declining fortunes." His eyes never left her face. "You know...a maid of such a...modest household might find opportunities for advancement elsewhere."
"In a more...appreciative environment."
One of his knights shifted slightly, a movement that spoke of long practice. They’d seen this before. Knew the routine.
The butler remained impassive, his eyes fixed on a point over Happy’s shoulder.
"Thank you, Master Valheim." Happy said, forcing the words out. "But I’m quite content with my current position."
"Now if you’ll excuse me, I really must find the kitchen—"
She tried to slip past him, but one of the knights moved, blocking her path without seeming to move at all.
Darius chuckled.
"So eager to leave? And here I was, hoping we could...get to know each other better."
He reached out again, and this time his fingers did touch her—just a light brush against her cheek.
"Such soft skin. Such pretty hair. You’re like a little doll."
Happy flinched back, her heart hammering against her ribs. This was bad. This was very, very bad.
"Please, sir." She whispered, tears pricking at her eyes. "I really must go—"
"Or what?" Darius’s voice remained pleasant, but there was an edge to it now. A razor’s edge. "Your master will be angry? Lord Fulham is a cautious man."
"He wouldn’t risk offending my family over...a maid."
He said the word like it was something dirty. Something disposable.
Happy’s mind raced, searching for an escape, a solution, anything.
But there was nothing.
She was alone in a corridor with a predator and his trained hunting dogs.
Darius took another step closer, crowding her against the wall.
"You know." He said softly, his voice dropping to a whisper. "I have a room here. As a guest of honor. It’s quite private. We could...talk there. About your future."
"About how a pretty little thing like you might rise above her position."
His hand moved from her cheek to her hair, twirling a strand around his finger, the same gesture Cassius had made.
But where Cassius’s had felt affectionate, Darius’s felt possessive. Claiming. Absolutely disgusting!
Darius himself wanted to see if her insides were as beautiful as her outsides.
He wanted to peel away that modest maid’s uniform and discover what lay beneath.
He wanted to hear her scream, to feel her struggle, to break her completely.
"Now, little maid." He said, reaching out toward her collar with a grin that made her blood run cold,
"Let’s see what you’re hiding under all those layers, shall we?"
Happy was frozen stiff. Her voice wouldn’t work.
All she could do was watch in horror as the monster’s hand reached toward her, her mind screaming but her body utterly paralyzed.
Someone, please, anyone, help me—
And almost as if someone had heard her prayers, a voice cut through the darkness.
"What do you think you’re doing?"
