“The young miss is absolutely beautiful.”
Thud!
The comment from the person beside Alessandro brought him back to his senses. He reorganized his emotions, once again viewing the woman before him as his enemy’s daughter.
Alisia stopped right in front of the line of new servant applicants and looked at each of them in turn with a smile on her lips. “So you’re the ones applying to become my personal servant?” she asked.
Her sweet voice made it impossible for the men there to be satisfied with merely hearing it. If they were allowed, they wanted to draw closer and embrace her. Even pinch her doll-like cheeks. She was a doll—an incredibly beautiful one.
“Yes, Miss,” they answered in unison.
But Alessandro’s expression was different. His gaze was indeed directed at Alisia, yet it appeared flat, devoid of the enthusiasm shown by the other applicants.
And that attitude succeeded in catching Alisia’s attention. Her blue eyes focused on Alessandro. They assessed him, sliced through him, dissected him down to the bone—as if carefully investigating the man before her.
“What’s your name?” she asked.
“I’m Leo Hart,” Alessandro answered.
“Leo Hart?”
“Yes, Miss.”
“Are you also applying to become my personal servant?”
“Yes, Miss,” he replied.
“Then why are you looking at me like that? You don’t like me?”
Honestly, Alessandro was quite startled by Alisia’s blunt question, though he made sure not to show it. His face remained expressionless, as if he felt nothing at all.
“I don’t understand what you mean, Miss,” he said at last. His voice was calm, the result of sixteen years of training under his father.
“You really don’t understand? You’re looking at me without smiling, unlike the other servants.” Alisia’s voice held a trace of annoyance.
“Forgive me, Miss. As a prospective personal servant, I thought it would be rude of me to do that.”
Alisia fell silent after hearing Alessandro’s reply. She studied him again, then showed him a faint smile. “Interesting,” she murmured, though no one heard her.
She then stepped back, her blue eyes leaving Alessandro and shifting to all the servant applicants there.
“You know it isn’t easy to become a servant here, right?” she asked.
“Yes, Miss,” they answered in unison.
“Since you’re applying to become my personal servant, that means I’ll be the one testing you.” Alisia moved toward the living room.
She sat down there and, with a gesture of her hand, ordered her servant to bring the testing equipment to the applicants.
Alessandro fell silent as he looked at his own hands. These hands had not been born calloused. Sixteen years in a cold basement had shaped them. He still remembered being seven years old, when Marco threw a kitchen knife without warning. “Catch it, or die!” The knife had grazed his cheek. From then on, he learned that hesitating for one second meant ending up in a grave. From then on, his hands were never empty. A knife, wire, a sharp pen… anything could become a weapon.
But the hands trained to kill were now holding a silver tray. On it were jasmine tea and cookies shaped with almost unnatural perfection.
“Leo Hart.” The voice he had just come to recognize called his name again. He turned toward Alisia. “Come here!” she ordered.
Alessandro obediently lowered his head. With care and all the training he had undergone, he carried the tray toward Alisia.
He did it perfectly, with precision and careful calculation, so not a single drop of tea spilled from the cup.
Alessandro set the tray on the table, moved the tea and snacks onto it, then courteously handed the cup of tea to Alisia.
Before accepting it, Alisia once again seemed to look Alessandro over. But the man did not take the bait at all. As before, he merely looked at Alisia with an expression that revealed nothing.
Alisia smiled again—not a faint smile, but a sweet one capable of captivating anyone. “Thank you.” The moment her sweet voice spoke those two words, the men behind Alessandro melted.
“You seem very skilled. Have you worked as a personal servant before?” Alisia asked as she drank her tea.
“Never, Miss,” Alessandro answered honestly.
“So you deliberately trained just to apply here. Why?” This time, Alisia stared more deeply into Alessandro’s eyes, and he noticed. “Do you have a special purpose?”
I knew it. Julian Thorne’s daughter couldn’t possibly be as innocent as she appeared, Alessandro thought. “I’m an orphan, Miss. My father just passed away, so from now on, I have to earn my own living. Then, by chance, I saw a flyer saying that the Thorne residence was looking for a servant.”
“I didn’t want to let this opportunity go to waste, so before the interview, I trained as hard as I could. That way, I could be accepted as your servant,” Alessandro replied.
He considered the answer perfect because half of it wasn’t a lie. He was certain Alisia would believe him.
But what followed was only silence. Alisia still hadn’t responded to Alessandro’s answer. Her blue irises remained fixed on him, while her gaze focused on Alessandro’s hands.