The Most Satisfied Reincarnate

While Desmond vented his frustration with a stream of curses, completely engrossed in healing Laura's wounds, he remained oblivious to the tender gaze she cast upon him. Ahhhh... the young master's face is so close, she thought, her heart fluttering at the proximity.

Little did Desmond know that Laura, under his explicit instructions, had already mended several critical injuries, making the wounds appear more fatal than they actually were. This clandestine act had drained her energy considerably, and as she recalled the events in the haunting forest, goosebumps prickled her skin.

"For a moment there, I thought the young master no longer needed me," Laura whispered to herself, her voice barely audible amidst the tense air. She couldn't help but feel both fearful and entranced by her young master's cold and impassive demeanor. The forest had evoked a mix of emotions within her—fear, undoubtedly, but also pleasure, excitement, and a profound sense of awe.

Lost in her musings, Laura's eyes roamed over her young master's handsome face, inching closer as if drawn by an invisible force. Her hand moved unconsciously, yearning to graze his cheeks, before Desmond's bulging eyes and irate voice snapped her back to reality.

"What are you doing?!" Desmond's voice boomed with annoyance, his expression furrowed in displeasure.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, young master," Laura stammered, a wave of realization washing over her. The abrupt movement caused her body to ache, eliciting a small groan of discomfort.

Desmond snorted in response, refocusing on his healing task. Not only was his mood dampened by his innate disposition, but now Laura's audacious gesture added another layer of irritation. It was a stroke of luck that she had managed to survive thus far.

"Ah, I almost crossed the line," Laura silently chastised herself, feeling fortunate that her actions hadn't pushed the boundaries too far. Every maid knew the limits, and any other servant might have faced immediate dismissal for such behavior.

It seemed her constant interactions with her young master had finally borne fruit, not only allowing her to get involved in his plans but also granting her a degree of familiarity.

Several minutes passed, and Desmond scrutinized Laura's wound closely, only to find it completely healed, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of her flat stomach and flawlessly fair skin peeking through the tattered clothes.

Desmond swiveled around and settled onto his luxurious sofa. "Bring me my wine," he commanded, leaning back with an air of superiority.

"Yes... young master," Laura responded with a joyful twinkle in her eyes. She swiftly changed into fresh attire, eager to fulfill her young master's request.

Approaching her young master with a curious gleam in her gaze, Laura couldn't help but notice that his hand, previously ravaged by the dire wolf's bite, had fully recovered. The wounds, sharp enough to pierce human flesh up to a meter deep, had vanished without a trace. Astonishingly, Desmond appeared unfazed by the excruciating pain and bleeding that had ensued.

"Your wine, young master," Laura murmured, her voice barely audible as she carefully placed the drinking glass on the table, bowing her head respectfully before taking a step back.

*Slurp*

The sound of Desmond consuming the wine echoed in the room, capturing Laura's attention. His immediate upright posture indicated a change in his demeanor as he finished the drink in a single gulp. With a swift motion, he placed the glass forcefully back onto the table.

*Thud*

Though the sound wasn't particularly loud, it left an impact on the expressions of both Desmond and Laura. "Inform Annie that we need to expedite our plans," Desmond commanded, his voice laced with a sense of urgency. "Tell her to join me at the academy."

Vesta's previous reaction had heightened Desmond's suspicions, and he feared that this meeting might provide the perfect opportunity for the investigation he had been skillfully delaying. The exposure of his hidden troops, consisting of his maids, seemed inevitable, especially with the involvement of the old and cunning investigator, Grimm.

"Of course, young master," Laura replied promptly, but instead of immediately carrying out his orders, she chose to wait, observing the distress etched on Desmond's face. Sensing his hesitation, she gently interjected, "Umm... Should I inform your parents as well?"

Desmond paused, resting his elbows on his upper thighs and supporting his forehead with his hands. He let out a deep sigh before responding, "Tell my parents... that due to concerns for my safety, I accidentally revealed your strength."

Desmond knew that his parents had deliberately recruited witches who willingly chose to become maids. However, he remained uncertain about the methods they used to convince these witches and the reasons behind their recruitment. If his memory served him right, there were around 15 maids working in his household, including Laura, Annie, and Shelty, who were relatively new additions.

Furthermore, not all of the maids seemed to originate from the Northern Kingdom.

These observations intrigued Desmond, particularly as he noticed some of the swordsmen he had encountered during his travels now serving as traveling merchants on behalf of his father. Apart from Laura and Annie, the remaining maids had been part of his family's service since Desmond's birth on the ship, almost like an integral part of the crew.

Such details had ignited Desmond's curiosity about his family background, especially regarding his mother's lineage. The fact that all the maids possessed comparable levels of strength, equivalent to that of a High-class Witch, only further fueled his interest.

And the reason they were hiding this fact was because it went against the kingdom's regulations. According to the rules, wealthy individuals were not allowed to have more than two witches or wizards as bodyguards, and even the number of private guards was limited to ten.

This was a result of the dismantling of the aristocratic system, where only the King's family and the kingdom itself were permitted to maintain private armies.

"Yes, young master," Laura responded with unwavering enthusiasm, her determination matching her young master's resolve. She promptly carried out his instructions, ready to fulfill her role.

However, Desmond's demeanor had shifted. No longer as relaxed as before, he made his way towards the door, preparing to address the scattered "trash" near the village gate.

"Wait here, Laura," Desmond instructed, his voice laced with a sense of caution. "If anyone comes to see you, inform them that you're still recovering." With those words, he swung open the door.

*Click.*

As Laura engaged in conversation with Annie, her mind drifted towards the direction her young master had departed. Unlike before, where she would incessantly question his every move, this time she saw through his unusual frown and deciphered the complexity of the situation.

"Hufffufu, it seems this is going to be a complicated matter," Laura sighed, sinking into the sofa, lost in her thoughts.

"Laura? Hey..." Annie's cold voice abruptly interrupted her, annoyance seeping through her words.

...

Just as before, every time Desmond stepped out of his horse carriage, he inevitably attracted attention. However, this time, the gazes of onlookers only briefly lingered on him before shifting towards a different direction, their expressions filled with sorrow.

Following their gaze, Desmond's eyes landed on the village cemetery located beside the main gate, where members of the Mercenaries Steel Legion had gathered.

"Ah, they're grieving..." Desmond mused, observing the scene before him. In that moment, he noticed a single strand of deep blue hair resting in Veronica's palm.