The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

With that, Desmond gracefully stepped into the horse-drawn carriage, his eyes widening in astonishment as he took in the opulence of the interior. If it was his first time entering, he might resemble Laura, his jaw dropping in sheer disbelief. The carriage was a marvel of craftsmanship, its spaciousness rivaling that of his own room back home.

"No matter how many times I see this, it never fails to amaze me," Desmond murmured to himself, his gaze sweeping across the carriage. His neatly arranged books adorned the shelves, a testament to his love for knowledge, diligently brought by the maids who served his family.

Positioned at the far end of the carriage, two plush mattresses lay facing each other, unobstructed by any separating wall. This arrangement meant that Desmond and Laura could lock eyes from a distance when sleep beckoned.

A weariness settled over Desmond, evident in his sigh. Spotting a plush sofa, he couldn't resist its inviting allure, promptly throwing himself onto it to rest his fatigued body. "Make me some tea," he instructed, his eyes flicking open to find Laura still standing at the entrance.

"What are you waiting for?" Desmond inquired, a note of impatience creeping into his voice. "Set your things down and fetch me some tea, swiftly."

"Y-Yes, young master," Laura stammered, her nerves getting the best of her. This was her first time entering a horse carriage equipped with a dimension spell, capable of absorbing shocks and reducing noise all at once. And the experience was nothing short of awe-inspiring. She surveyed the carriage with wide-eyed wonder, her gaze shimmering with excitement.

But the absence of a barrier between her own room and her young master's room sparked a flurry of wild thoughts in Laura's mind. Only now did she comprehend the significance of Clementine's earlier question. She should have declined Desmond's request, but...

Her face, already flushed like a ripe tomato, blazed even brighter, resembling a person with a fever. Setting aside her belongings, she chose a mattress that appeared plain and modest, considering it sufficient for her role as a maid. As long as she could rest, it mattered little to her.

The carriage, almost complete with every necessity except a bathroom, allowed Laura to promptly prepare tea in the living room. This space boasted several bookshelves, a long and expansive sofa, and even a fully equipped kitchen with an array of cooking utensils.

"Your tea, young master," Laura announced, placing the steaming cup on the table where Desmond seemed engrossed in a book.

Overwhelmed by the luxury surrounding her, Laura couldn't help but feel unworthy. Even though she understood that Desmond had chosen her for his own purposes, a deep sense of happiness resonated in her heart, grateful for being singled out.

While Desmond continued reading his book, his free hand reached for the cup, and he took a sip of the tea, relishing its warmth and flavor.

*slurp*

"Ah," he uttered with satisfaction before placing the cup back on the table. His gaze shifted to Laura, who suddenly appeared flustered and fearful. "What's wrong?" he inquired, his brow furrowing as he sensed her unease. He set his book down, giving her his full attention.

"Um... I... I haven't released Shelty yet," Laura stammered, her face filled with regret as she recalled the Elf maid still locked underground. Her tone wavered with a tinge of awkwardness, aware of her own oversight.

The confined space of the room, now with only the two of them, intensified the atmosphere, adding to the discomfort. Laura felt at a loss, consumed by guilt for abandoning Shelty.

"No, that's not what I meant," Desmond interjected, his voice gentle but firm. "I already instructed Annie to handle it. What I want to know is how Shelty reacted when she entered the underground again."

Desmond's inquiry stemmed from a theory he had heard in his previous world. If someone was lost or had forgotten memories, taking them to a place of significant importance could trigger a recollection. In Shelty's case, her previous life as a slave had left minimal impact on her current memories, leaving only two possibilities.

"First," Desmond began, his voice tinged with confidence, "if she returned to the Elven Kingdom, I'm about 50% certain that her past memories would resurface immediately. The second possibility involves breaking through the ritual room to observe her."

Vividly, Desmond recalled Shelty's expression of resistance during their previous encounter and her determination to heal the slumbering Demon behind her.

Laura pondered for a moment, arranging her thoughts before responding. "Well, she seemed frightened upon entering. But I suppose it's natural for anyone, especially women, to be afraid of dark places, right?" She paused, taking a deep breath, relieved that she hadn't misspoken in relaying her young master's orders.

However, a twinge of disappointment and a pang of jealousy toward Annie began to well up within her. Desmond seemed to trust Annie more, and for the first time, Laura yearned for her young master's attention.

"And despite my mentioning that it was an order from you, Shelty remained terrified and even started to ignore Annie and me, curling up on the ground," Laura continued, her voice tinged with a mixture of concern and perplexity.

"Because our time was limited, I had no choice but to close the door and leave her in that state," Laura admitted, a hint of regret coloring her voice. She, too, felt an intense curiosity about Shelty's condition. Annie had erased Shelty's precious memories, so it puzzled Laura as to why Shelty had reacted the way she did.

It appeared that Desmond was aware of this, as he probed further into the matter. Laura understood that crossing this line meant intruding upon her young master's personal boundaries.

"Hmm... it seems my guess was correct," Desmond mused, stretching out on the sofa while resting his chin on his left hand. He took another sip of tea and finally settled into a more relaxed position, one foot resting atop the other.

"But there's a small chance she may regain her memories," Desmond murmured thoughtfully, contemplating the possibilities that lay ahead. He locked eyes with Laura, his gaze penetrating. He noticed her trembling legs and the unfocused look in her eyes.

"All right, you can go and rest now," Desmond declared, acknowledging Laura's fatigue. He could sense her need for respite. "Thank you, young master," Laura replied, her head slightly bowed as she made her way back to her designated sleeping area.

At that moment, Laura suddenly became aware that her young master was watching her from a distance, a smile playing upon his lips. It made her feel self-conscious, causing her to avert her gaze and speak softly, almost muttering, "Young master... could we please have some privacy?"

In her view, it was improper for a servant to change clothes right in front of their master, akin to the conduct of tavern prostitutes. Laura hadn't realized she had spoken her thoughts aloud until her young master responded, bringing her awareness to the slip.

"No problem, I also feel uncomfortable," Desmond assured her, his smile unwavering. He gestured toward a curtain hanging from the ceiling of the room, offering her a means of privacy.

...

Meanwhile, in Vesta's horse-drawn carriage, a different scene unfolded. Diana sat delightfully savoring a cake and syrup prepared by her father. She devoured each morsel with evident joy, regarding her father with adoring eyes as he continued cooking.

"Father's cooking is far superior to mother's," Diana proclaimed, pointing at her father with the spoon still in her hand. Her expression radiated happiness as she relished the delicious cake.

Hearing his daughter's words, Vesta smiled warmly, appreciating her compliment. "Thank you, my princess. But please, do not utter those words in front of your mother," he advised with a gentle shake of his head, focusing on preparing the next dish.