Anger Still Lingers

House Maddach's Head Servant sat on a soft chair, arranging and sifting through the letters sent to the house.

The number of letters addressed to House Maddach averaged around 200—some were personal, others statements from the Imperial Offices, and the rest concerned business affairs and land management.

He carefully cut open the ones he had clearance to read, while the sealed ones—meant for the Baron—were set aside.

A light knock on the door interrupted his work. He swiftly cleared the clutter from the table and wiped the paper dust from his glasses.

"Come in," he said.

Liam's maid, Sera, entered, carrying a letter that immediately caught the old man's attention.

As she handed it over, he took it briskly, inspecting the seal to ensure it hadn't been tampered with. Seeing that the seal wasn't marked for the Baron's eyes only, he knew that he, too, had clearance to read it.

The blue-gold paper made his eyes widen. It wasn't just an Imperial letter—it was an order from the very top.

From the God Emperor.

His fingers ran over the fine parchment before he carefully set it aside, placing his expensive watch on top of it as a paperweight.

Turning his attention back to Sera, he asked, "How did the young master take the news?"

"Well," she replied.

The Head Servant nodded, noting that she had no visible bruises. "Perhaps he thinks his wealth is enough to get by outside. The gifts from other houses do sell for a pretty price… though he should have still been upset over the decision."

"He didn't seem like it," she said hesitantly. "He looked… confused."

The old man chuckled. "I don't suppose that will last. He'll come to his senses soon enough and, as usual, throw a child's tantrum. Unfortunately, the only one around to suffer it will be…"

"I know…" Sera looked down, swallowing hard.

Liam Maddach was the Lord of Gluttony.

A disgrace among noble heirs. While the other Young Lords and Ladies spent their wealth investing in businesses and propaganda, Liam funneled an absurd amount of his finances into food.

His obsession with eating was near-manic.

Sera could still remember the time a single strand of her hair landed on his volcano cake.

The result? A black eye and nearly losing one of her lungs.

But it wasn't just food that triggered his outbursts. His anger was wild, uncontrollable, and petty.

If he looked into a mirror and disliked what he saw, he would blame her.

Even if it wasn't her fault.

'Why did you let me grow this way?!' The voice of her Young Lord screaming in rage still echoed in her mind, the memory of a chair being hurled at her still sharp in her thoughts.

"I'm sorry," the old man said, noticing her distant gaze. "I shouldn't have reminded you. Only a week more, Sera."

She shook her head, regaining focus. "Would you like me to distribute the letters?"

The Head Servant pressed them into her hands.

She glanced at the blue-gold letter. "That one?"

Without hesitation, he picked it up and tucked it into his breast pocket.

"I'll give it to the Baron myself."

#

Liam's chambers had another door, one that led to his bathing room. Through that, a changing room and a resting chamber.

He twisted the pipe valve, filling the bathing pool with warm water. The floor around it was bone-dry.

"That explains the smell…"

As the water rose, he scrubbed himself down quickly.

It wasn't just filth—it was years of neglect.

For the first time, he understood why his own stench had nearly made him gag earlier.

His fingers ran through his greasy, tangled hair, struggling to pass through the knots.

"Ahh!" Frustration spiked as he stormed out of the bathing room, snatching the razor blade from the shelf.

Without hesitation, he shaved his head bald.

His heavy breaths fogged up the mirror as he stared at his reflection.

His anger… it had been automatic.

The moment he felt the filth in his hair, his body reacted before he could think.

His grip tightened around the razor as a sharp pain shot through his palm. He looked down—his fingernails had dug into his flesh.

Another deep breath.

This wasn't right. He was never this angry. 

But he let it go.

After drying off, he rummaged through the closet. Everything was custom-fitted to his large size—coats with wide structures, high-waisted pleated pants meant to conceal his bulk.

When he finally dressed, he glanced back at the mirror.

"…I look like the damn Kingpin."

Before he could dwell on it, a knock at the door snapped him out of his thoughts.

Sera entered, pushing a cart.

'Again? But it had only been an hour!'

"My Lord, your second breakfast."

She lifted the silver lid, revealing a whole roasted elk surrounded by sausages.

Her eyes flickered to the first breakfast, still untouched on the table.

He followed her gaze.

"…Oh, I guess I am pretty hungry."

Picking up his fork, he pressed it into the steak, cutting off a small bite. He brought it to his mouth—

And suddenly, the plate was empty.

His fork hung in the air.

He blinked.

'I… I only took one bite.'

The food was gone.

His stomach was full, yet he hadn't tasted a thing.

His hands trembled slightly as he set down the fork.

Sera, sensing something off, took a cautious step back.

She had expected a violent outburst.

But instead…

"Please, sit."

Her heart skipped a beat.

'What is he planning?'

Liam Maddach was not cunning, but he was spiteful. He would do anything to make sure someone felt his anger.

She had been on the receiving end of it far too many times.

Still, obeying, she slowly took a seat.

Liam inhaled deeply.

This next question… it had to be perfect.

If he made one wrong move, everything could fall apart.

The last thing he wanted was for someone to suspect him.

Finally, he spoke.

"…The other members of House Maddach—"

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully.

"And me. Can you… tell me about them?"

He closed his eyes.

'Damn it… I messed that up. It's over.'