You blinked blankly at him. Head cocked to the side in bafflement.

"Brew tea....?"

Seconds ago he was all intense and threatening and now he was asking for tea. Were you missing something?

I mean hurray! You weren't dying. Making tea was a small price for that.

But it is too easy. Wasn't the punishment...not that much of a punishment?

Claude's eyes were emotionless and cold. His expression pure apathy and boredom. He stared at you few seconds before going back to his paperwork.

"Get going." Claude flipped the page and gave you a short dismissive glare. "I won't wait all day."

You stood rooted. Really that's all? You just had to make tea and BAM he'd be happy?

Fishy...

No, it's the whole aquarium...

You squinted at him in suspicious but forced a smile when he stared at you.

"Don't use magic. I'll know if you did. Make the tea with your own hands." Claude paused. "You're still standing? Scram."

You jumped, alert and quickly turned around to leave. But then you stopped.

Turning around with a sheepish smile you asked, "Where's the kitchen?"

"...." Claude slowly scowled, eyes flashing dangerously.

Idiot! How would he know that?! He's the Emperor, not the butler. I deserve to die for my stupidity!

"Never mind! I'll just ask the stuff!" You said hurriedly. "Um, then I guess I should get going?"

"...."

"Yeah, I should definitely get going." With a short, ungraceful bow you staggered outside.

You heavily leaned against the door after stepping out.

"What's going on?" You mumbled to yourself. "Is he toying with me?"

You wondered if you were reading him wrong. If you were exaggerating the situation and missing the point.

With a heavy sigh, you pushed yourself away from the door. You could think about it later. Right now making tea for the bipolar tyrant was important.

You walked towards the main Palace. You had to cross the ground in between the two palaces. The moment you step in the sun, you hissed. It was hot.

You quickly made your way to the Main Palace. You looked around for guidance and stopped dead middle of the hallway.

"Um, excuse me?" You stopped a passing maid. "Can you tell me where's the kitchen?"

The maid scanned you from head to toe, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "It's on the left wing. Second hallway."

"Thanks!"

"Are you a new maid?"

You smiled tightly. "Yeah, something like that."

A Royal healer and a bounty hunter reduced to being a maid. When did your life get demoted?

It took another five minutes to find the kitchen. Once you did find it oh boy, you were in awe.

The kitchen looked straight out of a five-star restaurant. Sparkling clean. With fancy equipment placed neatly in an appropriate place. At least fifty staff members were working.

"Do ya need something, Miss?" A bald man asked who seem to be the Head chief.

After awkwardly explaining things, he guided to a marbled counter.

You stared blankly. The Head Chief quickly explained things to you after seeing your oblivious look.

You felt a bit nostalgic when he handed you Lippe tea leaves. Diana used to love it to the point of obsession.

Ah, I'm feeling down. No time to go down memory lane.

It took a while to figure out the equipment. You were quite proud of yourself.

Lippea tea finally ready! Let's hope Claude likes it or your head would be rolling on the floor.

The chief arranged the tea on the trolley artistically. Adding cutlery and decorative.

You felt it was over-the-top but then again it was for the Emperor.

Crossing your finger, you took pushed the trolley in direction of the Oval Office.

You were kind of giddy. A bit fearful and nervous. Would he like it? You shook off the negative thoughts before they could freeze you.

"I brought you tea. As you told I made it myself!" You proudly announced. You nervously bounced up at him. Be careful not to disturb the contents.

"Hmm." Without looking at you, Claude continued his work.

Your giddiness immediately faded away.

What a killjoy. You deflated, shoulders slumping in disappointment at his dry reaction. It was the first time you made something and he already put a dumper on it.

"Serve it."

Jumping, you did as he said and waited with bated breath. You were bouncing on your heels. A small eager and nervous smile tugged at your lips.

Maybe he would like it so much, he might forgive you and take back his punishment. Chances were slim but hey, a girl can hope.

C'mon! You slowpoke drink it already!

Claude calmly took a sip with a poker face. It felt like ages before he put the cup down.

"It's horrible. And cold." He mercilessly remarked. "Make me another."

Your jaw dropped. Shocked, you spluttered, "It can't be that bad! I followed the instructions precisely. And you could use magic to heat--"

"Should I say it twice?"

Offended beyond words, you could only gape at him. He was already back to his work. His hand moved at lighting speed, scribbling words on paper, his full focus on it.

Claude waved his hand in afterthought as if shooing away a bug. "Get going now."

With a huff, you stood up. Eyes hardening in resolve. "This time for sure, I'll make a fantastic tea!"

You saw a ghost of a smirk on his face when you turned away. You scowled.

Just you wait. I'll make the most delicious tea you'll ever have. And you'd be begging for more.

You nodded to yourself, smirking in confidence.

This time you made sure to run and prepare. Having memorized the previous instructions, you made quick work of it.

You sped walked back and placed the Lippe tea on his table without instructions.

You crossed your arms and stared at him in a challenge.

"Terribly horrible.." Claude commented after taking a single sip. "Another."

No, I won't expect defeat!

You made another and served him only to be ruthlessly rejected again.

"No change."

The third time is a charm, right?

Another redo and another cold rejection.

"It's more terrible than previous ones."

It's gone for another 5 cups or so. At last, you almost collapsed to your knees in defeat and exhaustion. The staff looked at you pitifully.

"Damn him.." You said through clenched teeth, gloomy clouds hovering over your head. "He burst my confidence like a freaking balloon. I know I'm not meant to be a five-star chef but damn that hurts my pride! How can I be so horrible at making tea?"

"Ma'am, your hands.." The head chef said worriedly, looking at your hands dipped in a bowl of ice. "It's not wise to use them."

You flexed your hand and winced at the sharp burning sensation. Stupid haste mistake on your part. You poured hot tea into your hand instead of the teapot.

Now it was hurting like hell.

With the help of the chief, you got your hand bandaged. You slightly whimpered and closed your eyes at the pain.

It sucked that despite being a healer you couldn't heal yourself. Stupid magic rules.

It's all Claude's fault.

A nasty idea formed in your head the more you stared at the tea.

"Can I have sugar?" You asked the chief.

Despite being confused, the chief handed you the jar and watched in horror as you put 6 cubes in the teacup and stirred it.

"M-miss wait, His Majesty doesn't like sweet!" The head chief squealed in horror.

Just to be spiteful you added two more.

"Exactly." You smirked crazily. "He said my tea is horrible right? Let's see what he has to say after drinking this."

Gritting your teeth through the pain in your hands, you grabbed the handle of the trolley and returned to Oval Office.

Claude paused and stared at you. "You sure took your sweet time."

"My legs are sore, your majesty. It's 10 minute walk. And I walked 10 times back and forth. Unless I turn into a robot, I'm bound to get tired and slow." You sarcastically retorted. Damn, all the exhaustion was bringing out your sassy side.

"...Robot?"

Brows furrowed, Claude uttered. He almost looked adorably confused. Almost.

"It's a thing back from my homeland. You won't know about it." You said causally, walking to his desk to put the teacup.

"Like every weird thing, you said to me so far," Claude murmured, eyes fixated on you. "A homeland I don't know about despite being an Emperor. I wonder about that."

You froze midway, hand hovering in the air as you gulped. You avoided looking at him as you put down the cup and moved away.

"Almayan," Claude laced his hands together and rested his chin on it, looking thoughtful. "isn't that your original homeland? A small village on the outskirts of Obelia, with a population of less than 300. Most of them were farmers and traders. Not so much of unknown homeland."

You were frozen stiff. Dammit, you forgot how sharp he was. Okay, okay. Damage control. Calm down and do damage control. Quick!

Keeping your expression careless, you shrugged your shoulder. "That's right. But I was an outcast. Living with my Mom and Nana. Away from the village. So yeah, all the stuff I say, all credit goes to my Mom. Who by the way was a Herbalist and travelled a lot." You lied.

So sorry, Mom! Please forgive your daughter for using your name to save her neck.

"Hmm." Claude looked unconvinced.

"The tea!" You said in a rushed voice, trying to steer him off the topic. "It will get cold if you don't drink it fast."

Claude spared it a disinterested glance before he focused on you again.

You groaned internally. C'mon dammit, take the bait. I'm desperate here!

"Now I think about it, we had this conversation before, didn't we?"

Why are you poking a dead horse?! Just let it go!

"That time we got interrupted," Appearing indifferent, Claude said. "You got a leeway."

I wish I'd get interrupted again!

You laughed nervously. "Past is best left behind. You got your answer now. It's should be enough. And I know His Majesty has more important things to do than reminisce insignificant memories."

Claude didn't respond.

You shifted from one foot to another. Your legs were starting to hurt from running and standing. You looked around. There was no place for you to rest.

"Stop squirming like a worm," Claude said suddenly. "It's unsightly."

You almost rolled your eyes. "You see, it's a human thing. When exhausted, one likes to rest. Your majesty wouldn't know about it."

"Only the weak get tired too easily." Claude retorted quickly, monotonous as ever.

You sighed and waved your hands. No use rising to his provoking. Man, you were exhausted. Tired. You just wanted to collapse on your soft bed and sleep.

"Whatever you say, your majesty." You mumbled, voice soft from tiredness.

Keeping up with him was draining your energy. You blinked sluggishly, rocking back and forth to relieve the tenseness of your muscles.

"Sit."

Before you could process it, your butt was forced on the cushioned seat. Startled, you squeak.

"Now stop squirming like a bug," Claude said, face stoic. He went back to his work, his facial darkened in annoyance for an unknown reason.

What? You blinked owlishly at him, caught completely off guard. Did he just show you kindness?

'You're someone special to him.'

The softness of the seat made you relax. Your tensed muscles loosen up. But the turmoil inside you made your eyes waver as you looked at indifferent Claude

Were you the problem? You keep analyzing, keep trying to read him but it never worked.

It always seem like you were misjudging him. Misinterpreting his action.

His unpredictable actions always put you on edge. Even his veiled kindness felt terrifying.

Was Felix right?

You knew you were letting the past cloud your present. Your own trauma had stained the way you see Claude and his actions. But you couldn't help it. Each time you see him you were reminded of Athanasia's painful death. Your own ruthlessly death.

You flexed your hands anxiously. There was a nervous, bitter feeling welling up inside you. You realized you were less scared than you came in with. The fear was there but the intensity had faded away. Now you were just extremely uneasy and on edge that found nostalgic comfort in his presence.

The scribbling noises stopped.

You didn't notice the sudden lack of sound, too caught up in your head.

It seems like somehow, the bond you created all the years back was there, shallowly breathing within both of you that you refused to acknowledge.

Even if you neglected it, it somehow managed to survive. Festering within your heart, and festering his heart too.

You didn't what to make of it. You weren't ready to forgive him. Not yet. But was it fair to blame the action of past life Claude, on present Claude who wasn't even aware of what he has done wrong?

Things have changed undoubtedly. But you were still stuck in past. Chained within the perpetual loop of despair, loss and tragedy. Not ready to let go.

Not strong enough to let go.

It also made you realize just how tightly you held on to bad memories rather than good memories. How your every fear-driven action was fuelled by your traumatized past. Even if bad times impacted you more adversely, it would not automatically remove the warmth of good days.

You knew it. You realized it. But the fear was greater than your willpower to keep a hold on to happy memories.

While you were struggling with your conflicted thoughts, Claude watched you, silently. A vague curiosity in his blue eyes.

"What are you thinking?" Claude questioned, startling you out of your thoughts. He picked up the tea you brought and took a sip. His face immediately stiffen.

"Shit," Your breath hitched quietly, eyes bulging in horror. The tea. You forgot about the fucking tea!

Claude froze completely. His nose scrunched up in disgust and his face took a greenish hue.

You watched as he struggled to hold the extremely sweet tea in. His troubled and slightly disgusted expression made you snort softly.

Claude caught that and his blues eyes turned razor-sharp.

For some reason, you found it hilarious instead of intimidating. Your downcast mood lifted. You coughed to cover up your laugh.

He still hated sweets as back then. His extreme hate and disgust for sweets made you remember old, light-hearted times when you would tease him for it.

Straightening up, you smiled shrewdly and sweetly said, "I hope this one's good. I put all my heart into making it."

Claude's brows twitched subtly as he gulped down the tea with visible difficulty. "You think it's funny?"

"Funny? Oh, it's another fail." You feigned disappointment, slumping your shoulders in exaggeration. "Here I thought I finally made a masterpiece tea to match your taste. Maybe I should give up. I can't seem to make tea to His majesty's unique taste."

Claude slammed the teacup down and glared coldly at you.

He opened his mouth only to close it when his eyes flickered to your bandaged hands.

"Your hands..."

Your cheeks flushed a little in embarrassment. You resisted hiding them behind your back. It was such a stupid mistake.

"Oh, this. I had an accident in the kitchen. Got my hands burnt. It's not ba--" Wait a minute. You could use it to your advantage. "I mean it's pretty bad. Like really bad. I can't use it. My useless hands can't make more tea for you."

You said in a serious, grave tone as your face turned gloomy and sad. "I'm sorry, your Majesty but I'm longer useful to you."

Claude frowned slightly. You continued to blink in fake sadness. Maybe you could get out of this maid duty.

"Your teas' were horrible," Claude said bluntly, without missing a beat. "Any more of that and I would've thrown up."

You were offended. It couldn't be that bad...

"And your got your punishment. Good. I don't have to waste my energy."

There it was again. The vague kindness and care. His ultimate effort was to hide it with his cold words and harsh glare.

Your eyes fixed on him in curiosity. You for once wished you could read his mind. See what's going on behind his indifferent mask.

Did he still care? Was he still holding on to the friendship bond?

The answer seems to be leaning on yes. The signs were there, clear for your eyes but it was ambiguous. Vague in a sense you couldn't describe.

You needed something solid. Something more concrete before you'd make any decision.

Clearing your throat, you asked softly, "Then should I leave and call someone else to serve you?"

"Did I say I care about your injury?" Claude bit coldly, "So shut up and stay there. I'll order when I need something."

You fell silent. He had an air of annoyance, even though his face was stoically cold. He would frequently glance at your bandaged hands, click his tongue and go back to his work, more aggressive than before.

So he did care...

You played with your sleeve, bashfulness laced in your action. Your lips were curled up in small hopeful smile.

A small fragile hope festered inside your heart. It was hard to ignore the warmth spreading all over your body.

Maybe, when you'd grow strong enough to leave behind the past, you'd give yourself a second chance at love and perhaps for the fairytale you always dreamt for.