Chapter 20: Noble Life  

Eze opened his eyes to an unfamiliar, ornate bed canopy and ceiling.  

Groggy and disoriented, many things had changed since becoming a hero, but his tendency to wake up confused, cling to the bed, and have a terrible morning temper remained constant.  

If anything, the stress from high-intensity work had made it worse.  

“Ugh…”  

Rolling around on the soft bed, letting out vague mumbles, he spent several aimless, lazy minutes before his mind finally cleared.  

This was a guest room in Velrian’s mansion.  

Technically, he was being “kept” here.  

Kept, as in… sponsored.  

Eze had some issues with the term, but he wasn’t about to pass up a chance to probe Velrian’s intentions, so he’d go along for now and see what she was up to.  

Definitely not just to mooch food, drinks, and a place to crash.  

Stretching widely, he sat up, ran a hand through his messy hair, yawned, and sighed with a touch of nostalgia.  

When was the last time he slept until he woke naturally?  

He couldn’t remember.  

On the team, work was endless. 

Sleep was timed to the minute, usually under two hours, or Liya would drag him out of bed without mercy.  

“…Time to get up.”  

Eze shook his head, pushing the thoughts aside, and was about to roll out of bed to dress when a soft knock came at the door.  

“Come in.”  

The wooden bedroom door opened slowly, and a beautiful blonde woman in a maid outfit entered, curtsying lightly.  

“Good morning, Lord Eze.”  

“Good morning.”  

Eze responded, eyeing her curiously.  

He’d gone to bed early yesterday but had explored the mansion a bit and seen no servants.  

The question didn’t linger long. 

He soon got his answer.  

“Not human… a golem?”  

As the witches’ most common creation, golems were typically hulking stone figures—strong, durable, pure tanks.  

But skilled witches could craft more “refined” ones, indistinguishable from humans, with a degree of self-awareness.  

This maid, with no trace of a living person’s aura, was likely one of those.  

“Yes.”  

Following her programmed protocol, the maid responded politely but flatly.  

“My master instructed me to attend to Lord Eze’s grooming and dressing.”  

“She’s thought of everything.”  

Convenience aside, since Velrian was posing as a human noble, some window dressing was necessary.  

“And—”  

“Hm?”  

“This body was specially designed, perfectly replicating all parts. My master instructed that if Lord Eze has special needs, you may use me freely.”  

“…What?”  

“If this appearance isn’t to your liking, it can be customized to an extent or used for simple roleplay. More complex settings would require my master to—”  

“Who asked her to waste time on this nonsense!?”  

“My master believes men may have such needs in the morning, so…”  

“To hell with that—what kind of weird misunderstanding is this!?”  

The tech was impressive, but obsessing over such pointless details—did Velrian have some side hustle outside the thirteen leaders?  

Anyway, the commotion fully woke Eze up.  

With the maid’s help, he quickly washed up, tidied his hair and face, and changed into a noble outfit adorned with gold thread.  

“This is?”  

“My master instructed us to prepare this. Your previous clothes were sent for cleaning.”  

“Hm… where’s Velrian now?”  

“My master is waiting in the parlor. Would you like breakfast first?”  

“No, take me to her now.”  

Yesterday, too exhausted, he’d rested early, leaving many things unsaid.  

The maid golem nodded obediently and led him out.  

Velrian’s mansion was two stories, modest compared to high-ranking nobles’ estates, and showed signs of long disuse, with creaking wooden floors.  

But the interior was exquisitely decorated, with furniture and carpets hinting at past luxury, disproportionate to the mansion’s size.  

To Eze, it felt like a secondary residence of some major noble.  

Since this was the only place Velrian remembered, investigating noble circles might uncover some clues.  

Lost in thought, Eze was led downstairs to the closed parlor door. 

The maid stepped forward and knocked lightly.  

“Madam, the master is here.”  

“Let him in.”  

“…Hm?”  

Still pondering, Eze was jolted back by the sudden change in address. 

Looking at his clothes and the door, he realized something.  

“Wait, I—”  

Too late—the maid opened the door.  

Besides Velrian, someone else was in the parlor.  

A young man, slightly younger than Eze, with strikingly handsome features, neatly styled blonde hair, and a lavish purple-and-white outfit—clearly no ordinary person.  

Upon seeing Eze, he sized him up with a scrutinizing gaze, then flashed a textbook noble smile:  

“This is Miss Vivian’s husband?”  

Vivian, likely Velrian’s alias—after all, a Great Witch’s name couldn’t be used casually.  

This man was undoubtedly a local noble, probably visiting out of courtesy, given Velrian’s fake noble identity.  

The problem was, in his presence, Velrian had claimed to be Eze’s wife, and he couldn’t call her out.  

Exposing her would raise suspicions, potentially blowing their cover and inviting trouble.  

But going along meant playing husband and wife in all Tafia’s public settings.  

He’d been played.  

To sell the lie, she’d even had the maid corner him and change his clothes to make him look the part.  

“Clothes sent for cleaning,” my ass—believing her was his mistake!  

Eze shot a glance at Velrian, who smiled lightly as if she didn’t notice, nodding to the guest:  

“Yes, my very exceptional husband, whom I’m proud of.”  

She was fanning the flames.  

Trapped this far, Eze had no words. 

He could only smile and respond:  

“Yes, a pleasure to meet you. I’m Ain (a random fake name), Vivian’s husband. May I have your name?”  

“Sean Edgar, Viscount, lord of Tafia.”  

The man stood, placing a hand on his chest in a perfect noble bow.  

“Hearing Miss Vivian would be staying in Tafia for a while, I came to pay a visit and see if I could offer any assistance as a gesture of hospitality. A pleasure, Mr. Ain.”